Goodbye Woobers...

Here's the post I mentioned in the previous post today about The Old Man passing. I'm not going to alter it. It pretty much sums up what happened. The whole thing happened so suddenly after having the dental surgery. We thought we would have longer with him. Sometimes I still think I can hear him barking to come inside, out in the yard. We miss having a dog sometimes, although I'm more partial to cats. :D

08/27/2010 A month or so ago, a friend posted a status update about how her friends' pre-baby dogs' health were starting to decline. At the Old Man's last vet visit, I was so relieved that he was not having any of the geriatric complications that I would have checked off of an assessment sheet for the vet. I knew he was old. It was his ten year appointment, but, at the time, he just seemed so healthy for his age. A while back, a bump appeared on his right mandible (that's his top jaw for you non-medical field folks. ;) We thought it may be due to an abcessed tooth. We took him in. They performed surgery to extract the possible suspects. The bump went down a bit. Then it started to grow out of control. The vet pulled fluid off and said it didn't look like the fluid that is in either cysts or tumors. We let it go. We did what we could to make him comfortable. The tumor grew and grew. He was still able to eat and happy to see us. He wasn't quite as able to keep up the way he used to. The tumor grew so big it pushed his eye shut and was protruding from his mouth. This last week, the tumor had developed lesions. Those lesions started to bleed. By Wednesday night/Thursday evening, he was bleeding...so...so...much. I stayed up with him much of the night. Then Dirty took over. We'd hoped to take him to Laumeier one more time. We'd hoped to get pictures with him one...more...time...He was bleeding too much. He was weak. We couldn't keep him any longer. We didn't want him to be miserable. Dirty took him Thursday on that final car ride. I had to go to class. I failed my first real nursing school test. Thank goodness they'll let me retake it. Now we're miserable. I go from composure to complete and udder tears. I was feeling better today. Then I came home and unlocked the door. I was waiting to hear him come to the top of the stairs and start sniffing to see where I'd been and who I'd seen. That didn't happen. I miss him. We all miss him. Goodbye Woobers. I know your spirit's somewhere out there in the Universe. I hope there is reincarnation and you can come into someone else's life who will be an even better pack leader to you and take you on more walks and not care if you lay on their couch.

Wordless Wednesday...

Not! Ha! Not really. When have I ever been wordless? If anything I'm too wordy. So the boys started school Monday. The Older has jumped right in. He is more confident about his school situation this year, which is very good. I think his teacher is a good fit and I'm hopeful that her influence will help him become a bit more organized. Monkey was worried before school started because he remembered his teacher from this year last year, and he thought she was mean. However, he learned that she isn't mean, she's actually nice. This year, I've been dropping off and picking up both boys. In doing so, I've been able to observe his teacher and I think that she is on par with his first preschool teacher at Stix. She has a real even temper and her way of keeping the class calm is speaking quietly and closely to the kids. I think his class is a really good group, meaning the class is manageable, read no intensely bad trouble makers. I know that's awful, but even the best teachers can lose control over their class when there's even just one trouble maker. Out of control classrooms leads to not much learning because there are so many disruptions. They're still getting settled though.

Our routine is not quite in place, it's only been two and a half days after all, but we're working on it. I just wanted to give a shout out to our President, Barack Obama, for not allowing tv during the school week for his kids. We had a bit of opposition from The Older about no tv/electronics/video games when we told him the rule before school started, until I told him that the President doesn't allow his children to do those things either. Since that conversation, The Older has only pondered how he'll use his time with those devices this weekend. There hasn't been any whining or even asking for those things either. Soon though our extracurriculars will really kick in and we won't have much time for electronics anyway.

Now it's time for me to go. I have five chapters of reading for when my classes start next week. I went to the bookstore today and I had a box of books...AN ENTIRE BOX...AND IT IS HEAVY!!!!! I'm so proud of myself for getting to this point and, for now, I'm excited about this new journey. The community college one was fun and, now that I've moved on, I'm really looking forward to all the work that I'll have to put into the four year university journey. Time to get reading.

Something's kind of bugging me...

Which may not be surprising to anyone that knows me. Ha. Anyway, yesterday was a primary election voting day. I researched the issues on the ballot. I voted even though it's not one of the "big" elections. I took my kids along because I feel it's important for them to see the process and it opens up dialogue about why I'm doing it. Anyway, since I became a registered voter, I've done my best to be an informed voter and to also use my power to vote.

So the issue...I am probably not liked by some of my neighbors because...well...sometimes, I can be a bit of a word that rhymes with witch. I have also snitched on my neighbors to the entire neighborhood listserv when they were using a cannon to make a big explosion noise...BETWEEN THE HOUSES...IN THE CITY!!!!! I digress, certain neighbors like to kind of schmooze with other neighbors (both on the block and throughout the neighborhood), not unlike politicians, and basically try to win a block, even neighborhood-wide, popularity contest. I don't necessarily need that sort of validation in my life. I know not everyone is going to like me. So to each his own.

Last night at the National Night Out block party our Alderman stopped in for a visit. The group of men I was standing with all said hello. A certain neighbor, we'll call him Schmoozy, made it a point to verify for everyone that he personally knows the Alderman. Then something happened that made me think. The Alderman saw my "I voted" sticker and said, "This lady's my friend. I'm Steve Conway your Alderman."

I said, "Yes, I know. I'm 'ME.' Nice to meet you. This is my husband 'Dirty.'"

He said, "I'm glad to see that you've been out to vote."

Schmoozy interjects to the Alderman, "Well, I didn't know that you were on the ballot. If I'd of known that, I would have voted today."

The Alderman, looking a little quizzical, and I say at the same time, "I/he wasn't on the ballot. That's not what this election was for." Schmoozy had to redirect after his faux pas and decided to highlight some tacos another neighbor made. I'm sure he felt (in a sing-songy voice) 'awkward.' The Alderman then said it was nice to meet me and went on to tell his son that there were carne asada tacos. So I guess the whole thing isn't bugging me as much as it's showing me that Schmoozy is a social climber that thinks knowing the right people, places him in a better station than the people he might not like and that he is above things...like the law (hence shooting off a cannon, three times, without a permit). Unfortunately, in trying to show his connections, he also showed his lack of intelligence on matters like the political process and the fact that he doesn't really feel that the right to vote is all that important. I'll take being unpopular and being a snitch.

He's full of them lately...

I told Monkey this morning that he gets to wear a tie everyday to school. He got so excited. His reply, "I get to wear a tie everyday to school?!?! At my language immersion school? I'm going to get to be rich and famous too?!?" I told him I wasn't sure about the rich and famous part. I do know that he'll be adorable in a tie and blazer.

More 5 year old musings...

One evening the boys were with babysitters and after swimming, the sitters were unable to find Monkey's underwear and shorts. They were in there, but weren't found at the time. The sitters found a pair of their sister's smallest underwear and pants. After washing, we tried to return them. First the underwear, when they were finished in the washing/drying cycle. The little girl (maybe a little embarrassed?) said don't worry about it and to throw them out. So this evening, Dirty brought the shorts back. When Monkey gave the shorts back to the mom, he said, "We can't find the underwear, but that's okay. My penis kept falling out anyway." We're working on our tact here in the House Full of Boys. Ha. Also, yes we use very techinical terminology for our "tenders" or "bits and pieces" or (insert whatever politically correct term you use for your swimsuit area here).

Can I play out in the rain?

9YO: Can I go play outside? Like out front.

Me: Wouldn't you rather play out back?

9YO: Why do you want me to go in back?

Me: I'm afraid someone might steal you.

9YO: Why? No one would want to steal me. Anyways, probably the only people out right now are hobos. And I don't think they'd want to take me.

Yes, this is an actual conversation with my nine year old.

Five year old ramblings...

The Older boy is gone on a play date for the afternoon which gave me an afternoon with Monkey. We immediately left for the grocery store to pick up some lunch meat and milk (and diet cola :). Monkey must not have heard The Older being picked up and at the bottom of the steps, he yelled back into the house, "The Older, come on we're going to the grocery store."

So I told Monkey, "He's not here."

Monkey asked, "Where is he?"

I replied,"He's at J's house. Remember? He had a play date with her."

Monkey's response as he shrugs, "Well...that was quick." So we were off to the grocery store. We had a pretty decent run. I love going to the grocery store in the mornings during the week. I honestly used the grocery store like some people use coffee shops or bars. Before I started school, almost two years ago, I was at the grocery store daily. I have also always enjoyed my time with either of the boys at the grocery store. It may sound weird, but the grocery store was my favorite place to teach my children stuff. We would talk about food or the polite way to leave your cart when you are perusing the shelves looking for items or using manners to interact with people at the deli or seafood or bakery counters or the checkout persons. I find it better to "hang out" in than say Target where I would just buy crap that I don't really need or couldn't really afford. There's always some food item that could be picked up though. (I'm looking into getting a therapist to deal with some of my eating/food issues. They run deep.)

Anyway, after the grocery store on our way home through the park, Monkey yells out, "Hey, I think that's E.'s car." Our incredibly cute two year old neighbor girl.

I said, "Yes, it probably is. They were going to be in the park today."

Monkey asked, "Well, does she even know how to swing?"

"I would say probably yes. She does."

Monkey then asked, "Does she know my name?"

"Maybe. I'm not completely sure."

His final question that left me giggling the rest of the ride home, "Well, does she know what the back of my throat looks like? Because I've looked at it in the mirror before."

My response, "No, no she probably doesn't know what the back of your throat looks like."

Once home, we had a nice little lunch chatting about his friends. This started because he wanted to watch Minnesota Cuke before nap time, which is about dealing with bullies. That led to him talking about people who he thinks are bullies and how he would go about being friends with them. Then he said something slightly disturbing, "D. always tries to kiss E. (a friend from school not the neighbor) and he shouldn't do that because they don't match."

I pushed this a little further, "What do you mean they don't match?"

"D. is brown and E. isn't."

I asked, "Who says it has to be that way?"

Monkey stated, "I do. It's a simple puzzle."

My teaching moment, "Well, I'm here to tell you that even though people don't match it doesn't mean that they can't kiss and love each other." I then gave as many examples as I could think of including his grandparents.

Monkey added, "But D. is mean to E. sometimes, and they're not best friends."

I state, "Well, I guess that's good."

Monkey asks completely shocked, "To be mean to people?!?"

I clarify, "No, that it would be good to be best friends before you kiss someone."

Monkey says a little relieved, "Oh. Can I save the rest of this spaghetti for later?"

"Yes, but I want to make sure that you know that it's okay for people who don't match to kiss each other."

He asks sounding a little bored, "Back to the D. thing again?"

"Just that." And thus ended the intercultural education of the five year old at lunch. Apparently, he was most offended by a boy being mean to a girl sometimes, but then trying to kiss her other times.

I keep thinking....

I should write something. I read other people's blogs and advice on twitter about blog-keeping. I don't seem to have time to edit photos to add to this here blog. So, what's been going on...I just finished The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. I loved the book through all of it UNTIL THE END!!! Here's a what do they call them spoiler alert, the pregnant sister at the end nurses the dying man in a barn because she's just given birth to a stillborn baby and allegedly has milk to spare. I breastfed two babies (maybe TMI get over it. This here's a family blog.) and happen to know firsthand that breastmilk doesn't come in for days. Colostrum sure. However, this was allegedly the day after giving birth. Take that John Steinbeck with all of your vivid imagery and insight into the human spirit and your Nobel Prize for literature. I really did find most of the novel beautiful and what I just described, but the final scene (that of the teenager nursing a grown man) kind of ruined it left a bad taste in my mouth (pun intended? not so much I found it while editing :). So while I find breastfeeding beneficial and a really "good thing" a la Martha Stewart, I was a bit disappointed by this final impossible scene. Sure Rose of Sharon's Rosasharn's breasts may have been of porn star proportions (have I written about my own experiences with that I can't remember? It's a funny little story. Maybe someday.), her actual milk dropping wouldn't have been an actuality...at that point. I apologize and digress. I guess it was really bugging me. To the point, of reviving my blog after months of disuse. If I haven't lost my entire readership (all three of you) from lack of writing, I just may lose it with my breastfeeding candor. Or I'll lose it if I can't get out of thinking in this "Okie" dialect. Thanks a million, John Steinbeck, for vividly placing me in the mind of a migrant worker during the Dust Bowl (Click the link and learn somethin' folks). I may have officially tipped into the country folk side of things, despite being a city dweller.

What else...we've spent much of the summer at the pool, or baseball related little league stuff, or school for me. The house was going to pot when I stayed home last night to clean and tidy up a bit. It felt good...and liberating...to once again have a clean house. I've also started working out again after two months. That feels good...and liberating too. I almost passed out twice during that workout restart though. It was a fun time explaining to my nine year old that I was about to pass out because "I'm overweight and out of shape. Please just get me a big cup of water!" URGH.

I don't have anything else to say really after class and a few drinks at The Royale. My first alleged bloody mary was sad and it made me sad. I pouted to David, my favorite bartender, though and he made it all better with two wonderfully made bloody mar(ies?) I'm glad we now have an understanding aka I tip well so he remembers my face. There's nothing worse than paying extra for ambiance and getting a poorly made cocktail. Thanks, David and good evening/morning/whatever time zone you may be in (most likely the midwest area). One final thought, should I go through and label all my previous posts? I mean as a stay-at-home mom of two boys/full-time student/doting wife/fabulous housekeeper I have a TON of time on my hands. HA! Maybe once my fall schedule starts up.

First All-Around!!!!

The oldest (because I'm still trying out good blog names for him) had his first gymnastics meet today. It was a small meet with just members of Concordia Turners. However, of all the other things that he's done, that he hoped to do well enough to win, this one he did really, really well! I was so impressed when I saw him on the rings. His form was so "on." I really felt proud of him and was surprised by how much he's progressed since he started. For his gymnastics level, he took first in four out of seven events, second in two and third in one. To top it all off, he got first in the All-Around. We were so excited for him! These pictures aren't great, but the routines are short, and there is limited good picture taking time. So...

Neighborly niceness...

(Note: This is a reconstruction. There may be some fiction involved.)

Lovely, young family of four walks down the alley to get to their car, which is parked on their parking pad. They've recently been parking here and walking around the block now that it is warmer. They realized that they can indeed park two cars on the parking pad and still have enough room to get into and out of the cars. They have come to enjoy this flexibility because their street has a high volume of cars that park on their end of the block. There is a car parked diagonally in the alley completely obstructing the roadway going east, but not causing the family any sort of problem. The couple settle their children into the car, open the windows, jokes around with a pair of walkie-talkies as the youngest son says, "Ignite engines." This tells the dad that he can start the car and begin driving because the son now has his seat belt on. Tap tap tap. "Hey neighbor."

It's the next door neighbor that has five cars total in the two person household. He parks all of his cars used or unused directly in front of his house and his neighbor's houses because this is the city after all. "Do you mind if I use your parking pad. I need to work on my car and I can't get it into the garage."

The fathers says, "Sure. We'll be gone this afternoon until about 2 for a birthday party. That shouldn't be a problem." The wife sits there steaming. She can't believe the gall of this neighbor who so inconsiderately parks so many cars on the street making it difficult for any of the other neighbors to park near their front doors, who rarely has anything to carry to the house unless it's a mini keg of beer, who has blatantly told the rest of us neighbors that getting to park in front of one's house is a chance that one has to take because it's "just part of living in the city" but leaves cones out on the street when it's snowed so that he and his wife have spots directly in front of their house, and who can't even park further down the block or on the not so far down cross street because he "just doesn't want to" making it just that much more cramped on our end of the block.

We've been using the parking pad since it got nice out. We're hoping to get the door put in on the parking pad so that we no longer have to walk around the block. It's really lovely to get home with a trunk full of groceries and to have a shorter walk to the kitchen once the back gate is open. It's nice that even though we have to walk around the corner to get to our front door, because at the moment we don't have a way into the yard, to not have to fret over getting a spot close to the front door when we have two boys and bags and crap to carry into the house. We have to walk further, but it's a guaranteed spot. It's also less stressful to not hold our neighbors in contempt when they have guests that park in the limited parking, especially when those guests take, and make, a space that could easily fit two cars into one spot because they are inept at parallel parking.

That is, until your neighbor with five cars asked to take one of those spaces in your parking pad, and now that you've written this post, you're starting to wonder if he's doing it for some sadistic I will make you give me reverence and take a bit of your newly, not really acquired but implemented, space because I get off on taking up as much public space around my private space as I can. Except, sir, that that parking pad is NOT public space. I WANT MY SPACE BACK. It's human nature to be territorial and if I have to, I'll go out there and pee all over the parking pad. It's still there, by the way, and it's almost seven. I'm going to go and jam out to P!nk's Sober now and get away for a little while.

And Dirty thinks I'm Hermione...

So we are looking into a language immersion school for Monkey next year because we aren't thrilled with our kindergarten option and he didn't test into the "gifted" (but really accelerated not gifted) school. Originally, I was turned off of the school because it's a Charter School. In my circle, Charter School=The Devil because when children go to the charter schools, the money that the government uses to pay for their education, is redirected from the public schools to the charter schools. There is a whole moral side to this that I now feel bad about. I am contributing to the decline in enrollment to the public schools and taking away the money that would follow my child through the public school system. I am not completely able to put all my feelings eloquently into words on the subject and therefore, I digress.

At this point in time, there are two language options: French and Spanish. I believe living in America that Spanish would be the most useful. I took French in high school and have never used it. I didn't even use it when I went to Canada to be perfectly honest. The French teachers at the school, and apparently the staff as well, all push for the French option. Their argument, French is spoken in more countries throughout the world than Spanish. Okay...that is true. French is spoken in more countries throughout the world and a heck of a lot of those countries are teeny tiny countries, and larger coutries, in Africa, a few countries in Europe, Canada (And who really counts Canada? I kid.), Haiti, then finally tiny remote islands in the Pacific ocean.

Spanish on the other hand is spoken throughout Central America and South America and by so many people throughout the United States. I wish that I took Spanish in high school. There have been so many instances when I could have interacted with people. The Scientist's friend in first grade's mom was from Ecuador and she wasn't comfortable enough to speak to me in English. His other classmate, J, I don't know where her family was from but again there was a language barrier and her mom only felt comfortable talking to the mom from Ecuador. In both instances, the most interaction we had was saying hello and smiling. Most conversations were stunted after that. Anyway, I decided that the Spanish option was the most practical since Mandarin isn't available yet.

Now, I would like to give a brief excerpt from my conversation with a staff member who was pushing the French option:

Enrollment Lady (EL): Have you decided which school?

Me: Yes, Spanish. I have no plans to move to the Great White North.

EL: Well, it would help with pronunciation of the street names. For instance, it isn't show-tow; it's Shuh-toh, and it's pah-pahn; not pay-pin.

Me:(thinking) It's not win-GARD-ium levi-OH-sah; it's win-GARD-ium levi-oh-SAH. Yes, we live in a French settled city. Yes, we pronounce the street names incorrectly. French is still a useless option in my opinion. It doesn't seem like a strong enough argument to learn a language just so you can pronounce the street name correctly. I've gone my entire life without people pronouncing my name correctly. I got over it by the end of high school.

I apologize if I've offended anyone by my lack of interest in using or learning French or in thinking that it is at all useful. I guess it's also obvious that the way these French speakers conduct themselves in promoting French just rubs me the WRONG way.

Not anything new...

but I'm so very excited to have my acceptance to UMSL's College of Nursing. I had to apply as an undergraduate before applying for clinicals, and even though I had that acceptance I didn't feel like I could call myself an UMSL student. Now, I am proud to say, "I'm a nursing student at UMSL." Sure I haven't actually started my Clinical Major, but I have acceptance to start. Knowing that makes my insides feel bubbly. GOOOOOOOO TRITONS! (Which can I say seems like an odd mascot since it's not living? Are there other inanimate object mascots? I can't off the top of my head think of any.) YAY!

I have my advising appointment in April on my birthday. That is when I'll get to register and get my official UMSL id. I can't wait, but I am also trying to enjoy my time at the community college. It's going to get pretty hectic once I start clinicals. I won't have my Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays off anymore. As Jillian Michaels says, "You don't get to the finish line and stop. You finish stronger than you started." That's how I want to finish out my community college career. I'll start by getting back to the four short stories that I need to read for tomorrow morning's class.

SQUEEEEEE!!!!!!!

Today, I hitched up the trailer bike, and Monkey and I rode over to the R.'s house for a morning playdate. The ride was a little brisk but not bad overall. It was one of the first times in a while that AR and I were actually able to sit and talk without child interruptions every 30 seconds. Afterwards, Monkey and I rode home taking a slight detour through the park. It was a really nice morning.

The mailman was delivering mail as we pulled in front of the house. I opened the door and let Monkey in, and when I looked down I saw a packet...from UMSL...it's the piece of mail that I've been waiting for for just over a month!!!!! I opened the packet and skimmed the cover page. It's a packet!!! It has eight items!!! It says it contains an acceptance letter!!! I then moved to the actual letter. "Dear Me, I am pleased to inform you that you will begin the Clinical Major in Fall 2010 at the College of Nursing at the University of Missouri-St. Louis." SQUEEEEE!!!!!! I immediately called Dirty and posted a status update on Facebook.

I am so excited. I got in. I am relieved. I didn't apply anywhere else. If I didn't get into UMSL's program my four year plan would be totally screwed. I didn't really want to go to Chamberlain. At the moment, it isn't one of the schools in the area that is very reputable. I think that is mainly due to newness in the area. SLU and Maryville aren't really an options due to price. Barnes-Jewish admits on a first come-first serve basis and I didn't apply soon enough. I feel like I can take a deep breath. I don't have to worry so much about my classes as long as I can keep up a "B" average, which shouldn't be a problem because I have had, up until this point, straight "A's." I did get my first "B" on a paper today though. I have to admit that I didn't do my best. What was I thinking making page long paragraphs? I am not going to just stop trying in my classes, but the stress of keeping straight "A's" to get into a merit based program isn't quite as necessary. Phew.

Morning Routine...

There are only so many moments where I feel I get the chance to really focus and connect with my boys. For most of the morning, while we're getting ready for school, there's so much silliness between them. It's mostly potty humor with "butts" and "pooping" being the main focus. They are little boys after all. I try to limit this because it's really easily escalated to running at top speed through our apartment. (I'm still processing The Scientist breaking his arm in this way; running through the house, not the potty talk. I was the cause of the fracture.) Somehow though, we are able to complete our routine in time for Monkey's bus.

I usually supervise, heavily mind you to keep on schedule, the getting ready of Monkey. He tends to sleep later which gives him less leniency with his time. Plus he's a little boy, and he hasn't quite trained his body to focus yet. Eat, get dressed, brush teeth, put on coat and backpack, head to bus stop. These are the steps to our morning. I walk with Monkey alone to the bus stop. The Scientist continues getting ready while we're gone.

As we walk, we sometimes hold hands. I don't check my phone. My undivided attention is his. Sometimes we see special birds. Sometimes there are questions that pop into his head. "Which one is our Christmas tree?" "Why did daddy put it there?" "Which one is a yard waste dumpster?" "Why is it green?" Sometimes I ask him questions about the night before. "How was gymnastics?" "What did you do last night?" "What was your favorite part?"

Most days he runs ahead to the corner. Every single time I get nervous. I wonder if he'll remember to stop at the corner? Once I catch up, he usually finds a game to play. When it snowed, he threw "snowballs" at me. This morning and yesterday morning, he wanted to break up the ice in the gutter. I usually stand and watch for the bus to turn onto the street at the end of the neighborhood. As soon as I see it, I tell him that his bus will be there soon. He always gets a little giddy when I tell him. This makes me sure of the fact that, while sometimes he is not motivated to go to school, once he's moving in that direction he enjoys himself.

As the bus pulls up in front of us, I offer him my hand. Partially, this is to make sure he doesn't run out too quickly. The other part, is because I don't know that he'll always let me take his hand. One morning he didn't want me to walk him to the door of the bus. It was bittersweet. Luckily, it only happened once. I give him the option now that he's done it once, "Do you want to do it yourself or do you want me to take you?" I now ask him daily as I offer my hand. I lean down so I can hear him better over the street noise. Every time, since that one time, he says, "I want you to take me." My heart melts. He still needs me. He still wants me. I walk him to the door and say "Good morning." to the bus driver, and "Bye Monkey." as he steps onto the bus. Then, I walk back to the curb. I can still feel the warmth of his little hand in my palm. I stand and wait. I watch to see if he'll remember to wave goodbye.

Most mornings, he does. I watch him put his seat belt on. Then, I see his little face, grinning widely, peering out the window. He waves to me. Again this feels bittersweet. He won't always look out the window smiling, waving. One morning we were fighting. I put my foot down and wouldn't let him take two different toys that each had many pieces to lose. He was angry with me. He wanted to take the pieces. He wanted to take both action figures. I wouldn't bend. There was no time for negotiations. Despite bus schedule regularity, I'm always anxious we'll be late. We never are. The walk that morning was tense. He was so angry. As we walked, he listed reasons why it was fine for him to do what he wanted. I tried to explain why it was not. We did the routine.

I told him when I first saw his bus. As it pulled up, I offered my him my hand, he took it. Now, I recall this was the morning he wanted to walk to the bus himself from the curb. His being angry with me pushed him to grow a little. I gave him his space. I supervised him from the curb. I watched him put on his seat belt. He turned his head to look out the window. He was smiling! I was surprised. He was just so angry with me. I watched his eyes as he remembered he was angry. He tried so hard to change his smile to a frowning, pouting face. That morning, like some other mornings, the bus driver took a little longer to pull away. That morning, like the other mornings, I was grateful for those precious extra seconds. In that time, he couldn't turn his smile into a frown. He began to laugh and smile again. He waved in a sort of silly resignation and turned forward as the bus pulled away.

It was over. He was fine. We were fine. In the mornings, after his bus pulls away I feel light as I walk back to the house. He's five already. He rides a bus to school. He still needs me and misses me while he's gone. Sure I enjoy the time during the day when the boys are away. I also miss my time with them as a stay at home mom. We need time away from one another though. It makes those times together that much more special. I've been so lucky to stay home with them those first few years when they develop so much socially and emotionally. I 'm so lucky to get those few precious minutes of just he and I in the morning when he's so confident and happy to move forward in his day. It makes me feel as if I'm made of air and light.

Over the Holidays and then some...

This is take two because the first take my slideshows were set to some music that I didn't endorse or approve. It's going to just be slideshows, I think.

Thanksgiving/Christmas Celebration with my dad's side of the family:

My brother, A, came into town and visited with my dad's side of the family. He hasn't done that in many, many years. He spent most of the time with my dad, stepmom, and two brothers, R and N. Then we got together with my dad's siblings and "the cousins" on Saturday for our traditional Thanksgiving/Christmas celebration. This year, my aunt's typical planning craziness included a Christmas Cantata that included worship and a sermon from her pastor. She was almost lynched though when she wanted to have the cantata before the food. We L's LOVE, LOVE, LOVE our food. So to postpone dinner was a dicey gamble. It was a fun time. Then A came home with me and the next morning my brother K, his wife M, and their boys T and G, met us for brunch at MoKaBe's. It was a good time.

Our tree farm trip:

First our car started acting funny and we had to take it to the mechanic. By the time we got on the road, The Scientist was SO CRABBY! We did everything we could to appease, or ignore him (in a nice way), to let him know that we were trying to give him an experience. It took a little creativity and patience.

Christmas:

Dirty's mom came to visit us for a week and he took off the whole week. It was a really, really nice way to start the Holiday break. Monkey developed an uncanny ability to guess what presents were. He guessed what most of the presents were that he was getting. It was completely crazy. We enjoyed a lot of family time and I didn't want the break from school to come to an end for the boys. They did start acting like my sweet boys again. So it's good to know that in two weeks, I can dust off the snotty, disrespectful attitudes and have the awesome, loving children that I raised thus far. Oh, and next year, I'm getting the boys, and maybe even Dirty and I, pajamas for Christmas Eve. Our Christmas morning pictures are a bit white trashy with The Scientist with no shirt and Monkey with no pants. You live and you learn. I try to anyway. ha.