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.