Unexpected

When I pictured this last weekend, I pictured a couple of days filled with kid activities. I pictured us running around - Chuck and I scrambling to make sure everyone got where they needed to go exactly when they needed to be there. I pictured fun. I pictured a few meltdowns (of both the kid and adult variety).

We got all of that. We also got some wackiness and a bunch of unexpected twists and turns.

It started Friday night with the kids both agreeing to go to the Carleton men's basketball playoff game. If you know my kids in their present-day form you'll know why this is weird. They prefer to cuddle up on the couches for Pizza Friday and watch movies together. We traipsed off to St. Thomas, feeling like we were introducing the kids to our old, familiar MIAC days. Only St. Thomas has now built what looks like a small airport terminal on their campus where the parking lot used to be. So that was weird.

Saturday we went to karate. Normal.

Saturday afternoon Jack had to come with me to my basketball game. He's never done that before. I have my game-face on, playing with dudes and trying not to get dunked on. Also trying not to throw my back out and show how old I am. I'm hitting shots and getting steals, helping us on a 15-0 run to bring the game within 5 points with 5 minutes remaining. And then I hear "Momma. Momma. Momma. Momma." Jack is standing 2 inches from the sideline, right next to me. And he wants to talk about who is winning and who is losing. So that was weird.

Saturday afternoon we went to the "carnival" at Jack's school. Quotations used purposefully. To be fair, it was hosted by the church that the school leases their space from, not by the actual school. But it was promoted by the school. The posters and flyers said "carnival" from 2:30 to 3:45 and then "show" from 3:45-5. There were top hats and magicians' wands. The carnival lived up to it's name, full of bouncy houses and games and face-painting and popcorn. Then everything abruptly stopped. They kicked kids out of line and packed up the karaoke machine and told everyone it was time to go to the sanctuary. The school puts on performances there so I didn't think much of it. They had the spotlights circling, beach balls flying through the crowd, music playing, and mic'd clowns running around on stage. They welcomed us all there, then told us it was time for worship. I'll skip the full story and just finish by saying that the school will get a letter from me later this week, telling them they need to be more careful with the things they are promoting, and asking them to kindly use more descriptive language than "show." Call it "worship" or "service" and I'd know to guide the children out of there before getting their hopes up and then confusing them. We did have a good talk on the walk home about what happened, and why it made us feel uncomfortable.

Sunday we went to our first karate tournament. That seemed normal at the start - Jack did his basic forms and got his very first trophy. Then we were sitting around waiting for the black belt stuff to start - and I began people-watching. Turns out that karate draws a very, very odd assortment of participants. There are people of all shapes and sizes and seemingly abilities, and then you look down and realize they are a 3rd degree black belt. It was fascinating. And the spectators were equally strange and had zero sense of personal space. The adults kept bumping into me, kicking me when I was sitting on the floor, and pushing my chair from behind. The children kept hugging Jack and Ryker and patting me on my knee.

The black belt team championships were amazing though. Serious athletes there. We got to see his school's director compete in a form competition. Then we stayed to watch one of his teachers compete in team sparring. I've seen some sparring, but that was only practice. This was for real. Mr. Schneider is a young, athletic kid who is animated and wonderful with the kids. In the ring, he was a beast, until he got knocked down three feet in front of us. He didn't pop right back up, but laid flat on his back. His face was twisted in pain and he wasn't moving one arm. I glanced over at it, and shouldn't have. I'll skip this full story too, and finish by saying that moms were covering their kids' eyes and I sprinted out of there, to my car, and sped home.

At least there weren't as many meltdowns as I had imagined.

Notes to People In Warmer Climates

First of all, let's get this out of the way - YES, I chose to live here and no, I'm not leaving any time soon. So you can just go ahead and NOT write that in the comments, okay? Okay then...

To set the stage: It is currently 2 degrees, with a wind chill of negative 8. Yesterday's high temperature was 2 degrees below zero. I can't find the wind chill yesterday, but the winds were gusting to 27 miles per hour, so I'd say it was significant.

So walking in to work today I was thinking about all the things that hearty Minnesotans get to experience that the rest of you don't, so I thought I'd share the love...

1. We plug our cars in. Okay, so I have never actually done this, until last night. But you can literally plug your car into a normal outlet with a normal extension cord. I was pretty sure that me and the cord were gonna drive to work this morning together, but Chuck kindly unplugged it before I left. Smart guy.

2. Your nose hairs freeze and stick together. It's odd and you find yourself making weird faces trying to unstick them. (You know you're making the faces now too, admit it.)

3. (LAURA T - If you're reading, skip this one. It's about eyes.) That membrane that covers your eyeball? That thing kinda freezes too. Weirder than the nose hair one, and I think that must be what the start of cataracts feels like.

4. Christi and Beth can attest to this - your jeans freeze. You get out of your car wearing jeans and after a short walk they have turned into cardboard pants.

5. It gets so cold that it's physically impossible for it to snow. When the snow falls, we consider that a warm-up.

6. Your teeth actually get cold. In your mouth. It's like eating ice cream only suckier and without the calories.

7. If your gym bag sits in your car all day while you're at work, your workout clothes get ridiculously cold and you start to see all means of creativity in the locker room. Some people simply put the cold clothes on, do the full-body shiver and then hop up and down for awhile cursing under their breath. Some throw their clothes, or entire bag, in the sauna for a few minutes. Today I found myself using the hair dryer on my gym shorts. I looked up and saw a few people staring, but I think they were secretly wishing they had thought of it first. 

8. Your freezer space increases 118-fold. Is that a thing? All winter you can put your hotdishes and lefsas in the garage and they stay nice and frigid.

9. Related to number 8 - you can NOT keep beer in the garage because it will freeze and explode. 

10. Schools close, sometimes, because the diesel fuel the buses use can "gel-up." Chuck taught me that one. I have no idea what it means. Email him.

King Jack

If you follow me on Facebook, you already know this, but I'll elaborate here. Jack won four awards in school in the last three days. This is significant for a lot of reasons, but mainly because he has worked so hard at it. I think some people (even readers here, I'd guess) have kids for whom behavior has never been a problem. It's one of those "You Can't Know What It's Like Until You're There" things, to be a parent of a kid who really struggles in that area.

He's had his eye on the Classroom VIP since he stepped foot at Seven Hills (his new school). It's the highest honor they bestow upon the students - and every class does it every week of school. Jack has ebbed and flowed with his behavior in the classroom and has not received the award.

In gym class they give a VIP as well, and Jack won that earlier in the year. Then behavior stuff got hard again and he didn't get any more. We work REALLY hard with him on all of this - I won't go into it all here, but trust me that the caps-lock on "really" was intentional and well-earned. So we took a deep breath and kept at it. He kept mentioning the classroom VIP, even saying the other week that he thought he was going to get it. I knew he wasn't, because I was having daily email conversations with his teacher about his behavior. It broke my heart and Jack got to learn the words "discouraged" and "disappointed" and the difference between the two.

He had a good day on Friday, and Monday, and again Tuesday, and the hopes started going up (on both of our parts, I'm not gonna lie) that this might be the week. On Wednesday he got the gym VIP again, and a Great Work ticket in math class. That's another way they reward good behavior.

I picked him up Friday and we were walking down the hallway and he goes "so...I got the VIP."

I literally dropped my bag on the ground and said "SHUT. UP." (I'm a great role model.) I was stunned. He was beaming.

I tried to tackle him but he's too strong for me so I had to settle for a really big bear hug. He also got another Great Work ticket. Four awards in three days - all of them behavior-related. Amazing.

Missing

We were playing that game at dinner where you draw a card and it has a question on it and you ask the question to the family and everyone gets to answer. We had done a couple of them and then we drew one that said "Who do you miss?" We each answered and then it was Chuck's turn. I said "Daddy, who do YOU miss?" And Ryker quietly goes "please say me."

Time Off for Good Behavior

Camp Grandmommy - the Winter Edition. Chuck and I left the kids with her in StL last Thursday and headed back up to Minnesota. We bought (well, leased) a car, cleaned the bathrooms and kitchen and living room and entryway, scanned hundreds of our documents into the computer and then shredded the paper-trail, folded loads of laundry, slept a lot, saw movies (the Hobbit for Chuck and Les Mis for me), hung out with friends, and had a Harry Potter movie-marathon.

The bulk of my time, though, was spent in the kids' bedrooms.

TERRIBLE.

I had this stance for awhile that they are big enough to clean their own rooms and that if I helped them, it was doing them a disservice. The last 48 hours, I've paid dearly for that decision.

The upside to filling three bags of trash and two bags of recycling is that you get another view of your kids. For instance, Ryker really, really loves his brother - he saves tiny pieces of paper that Jack gives him. He also is a hoarder of cups, writing implements, and Chapstick. Jackson likes to roll up a bunch of pieces of paper and then tape them together, and he is sentimental. He has kept all kinds of work from the last two years of schooling, awards, positive notes home from teachers, stories he's written and things he and I have drawn. I'd say that he only has them because he doesn't throw ANYTHING away, but they were in remarkably pristine condition, and sometimes stapled together into collections.

The kids return tomorrow. We'll have to stop watching movies so loudly, the new car will be introduced to Fruit Snacks and kid-sized footprints, the dust bunnies will roll once more. But I want to hug my babies, so I'll allow it. =)

So Many Thoughts

It seems appropriate that I should blog about the Connecticut tragedy, although I'm sure it'll be exceedingly random and frustratingly rambling.

First, all of these sorts of tragedies (and it sucks that there are enough of them to warrant a statement like "all of these sorts") make me sad. But this one. This one hit really close to home. I don't think I've shed tears over any of the other ones. But this one. I cried like a baby. I teared up on my way in to the school to get Jack from afterschool care. I cried watching Obama's press conference. I cried when Chuck brought Ryker home. I cried harder when Ryker pulled an attitude and wouldn't let me hug him.

This one hits ridiculously close to home. It struck me in a very sensorial (is that a word?) kind of way. I know what small kids look like and sound like when they are scared. I can picture it. I have a first grader. I know what first grade classrooms look like, sound like, smell like. I grew up in them because my mom was a first grade teacher, and I'm in one all the time now with Jack. I can picture that too. It also hit me as a person who has a mental health diagnosis myself, and as the mom of a kid who has some special needs that we're addressing with a counselor. So yeah, this one hit me hard.

There seem to be two general camps right now. One believes this is all about gun control. The other believes it's all about access to mental health care. I believe it's both. There are so many people who NEED care and who either can't get it, can't afford it, or just don't seek it out because of the stigma. I pay a LOT of money to see a counselor, and I am fortunate enough not to need to see him as often as some people do. Mental health care has got to change. Gun reform needs to happen. But I'm gonna steal from Morgan Freeman here. He said that the media's coverage, and our consumption, of these events is what tees the next one up. We treat it like it's a contest. This one "ranks" second. RANKS? We know the names of the shooters of Columbine, but try to name ONE victim... Can you? I can't.

Then there's the desensitization of our kids to violence. Today I was at a bowling party for Jack's classmate. The kids got bored after about the 6th frame and started chasing each other with their fingers pointed like guns, making shooting sounds. The ones that got "hit" put their hands around their throats, made choking noises, and then dropped to the ground laughing. The mom of the birthday boy and I were not okay with this, and spent the rest of the time keeping them from doing it. Jack and I left there and went to the library, where we saw a boy playing a computer game wherein he held a rifle and walked through a building shooting people. His dad was there watching him.

So many things are independently broken, but they are connected and together they have created a massive problem. And our babies and our nation are in trouble because of it. My heart hurts. All I know to do is help my children be good people, deal with their anger and sensitivity issues. I can be an advocate for destigmatizing mental illness. I can help my kids understand that kindness is key, and that violence is not an answer. And I can support anyone who needs it. (I just wrote a note to Jack's teacher saying I wasn't sure how this was hitting her, as a first grade teacher and mother, but that I hope she knows how much we all support her and are grateful that we can entrust our children to her every single day.)

I'll leave you with a random, goofy list to lighten things up.

Things I Never Thought I Would Have to Say, or Hear:

1. me: "Ryker, why are you bringing pencils to your bath?"
2. Jackson: "Mom, so you know how in Latin, ...."
3. me: "Ryker, stop combing your foot."
4. Jackson (at 7, remember): "Mom, can I please watch that program on King Tut An Khamun?"
5. Chuck: "Don't you want to rent Magic Mike in HD?"
6. me: "Ryker, do you think that prisoners get to play Pokemon?"

Bad Blogger

2 months since my last post? Really??? Crap. Sorry y'all.

Okay, we'll do this update-style. It's gonna read a little like a novel and a little like a newsletter.

Ryker:
He had his holiday performance this week. Always a highlight, and also a surprise because we're never sure if he's going to stand perfectly still and not say a word or if he's going to sing his heart out. This time around, it was the latter. He ROCKED it, which is funny given that a few weeks ago he asked me to legally change his name to Rockstar.

He continues to be hilarious at home, loves singing and dancing and being a goof. He has learned to write his name, both forwards and normal-looking and backwards and mirror-imaged. I have no idea why he does that or how he taught himself but it's kind of interesting to watch him do it. YOU try to write your name in a mirror-image. Not easy.

We had a bit of a behavior situation with him for awhile, but nothing that a cubic-ton of stickers and some parental strategy couldn't fix. Knock on wood, but I think we've handled it.

Jackson:
He is rocking the faster pace at Seven Hills, but also seems bored still. And when Jack gets bored, it's not a pretty picture. His teacher is awesome and has regular communication with me so we're working on it, but the kid is just too bright and too easily frustrated for his own good. We are working with him on it. He is writing a ton, reading some, and creating his own math problems. The other day we were playing with cars and he told me he wanted us to take turns and then explain why our cars went the distance they went. (Chuck works in analytics.) So we did that and then I told him about the marble shooter my friend and I made in high school and he patiently listened and then told me exactly how I could have made it better.

The other side of Jack - when he's not bored or dealing with some frustrations - is this amazingly sweet and thoughtful and caring little man. He wrote me the cutest note the other night, as well as one for Chuck and one for Ryker. Then another night I went to bed and tripped over a note he taped to the carpet for me to find. It was for my buddy Sean, who is really sick and has been for awhile. We talk about Sean and his family a lot, but hadn't talked about him for awhile. The note was addressed to Sean and told him that he hopes he feels better soon and that he knows he can do it! Soooo sweet.

He, too, had a performance at school. It was awesome. He was nervous but got up and sang and did his thing. So proud! Ryker about had a coronary when he spotted him. He is literally a head taller than everyone else, so he's not hard to spot. Plus he's the adorable one.

Siblings:
They are brothers and they act like it. Case in point, I'm sitting here blogging and Chuck comes out and tells me that when he was driving the kids to his holiday party tonight Jack was going "Abracadabra - poof - ..." and then making things disappear. Then he goes "Abracadabra - poof! Ryker's not annoying!" Not the nicest thing to say, I know. Ryker cracks up laughing and goes "hahahaha - I'm STILL annoying!" then waits a few beats and then goes "you're not cool."

So yeah. We deal with a lot of that sort of thing, and try really hard not to laugh.

Chuck:
Chuck's on this crazy weigh-loss tear. He's working hard and now having to buy all new clothes because he doesn't fit into anything anymore. Work is good. We are maybe going to have to buy a new car, so he spends a bunch of time looking at those and trying not to stress about taking on a car payment. We got to go on a vacation a few weeks back (thanks Grandmommy!) and had a very nice, relaxing, quiet weekend at a lake in central Minnesota. Ahhhh.

Me:
The kids' stuff is listed above, but obviously it takes a lot of energy to keep up with both of them and help them through their behavior stuff.

I continue to be amazingly grateful to have the friends that I do (hi friends!) and my fun and supportive and awesome family (hi family!). And I've made some new friends, which is awesome and fun and they are just about the coolest people on the planet.

Work is nuts. Absolutely nuts. I've spent the last week hanging out with a world-renowned culinary historian who happens to be the world's nicest and most interesting man. He took a shining to me and I think I now have a place to stay in England whenever I get over there. I learned to make Grand Sallets, Taffety Tarts, and some sort of very firm marmalade. I learned how one would have eaten in the Tudor era, and I also got to hang out with one of our amazing trustees and her husband and it was awesome. I'm crazy, crazy busy though, and exhausted.

So yeah, that's about it. Happy Holidays to all of you if I don't post before then!

Uh Oh

Jack has been in Chess Club for exactly one day.

He rushed into the house, got on my laptop, and got into the website that they all have access to.

He doesn't even really know the names of the pieces, but was already thinking 3 moves ahead. Literally. I'd suggest moving somewhere and he'd go "no, because they they'll move here and I'll move there and they'll move here and then they'll get me."

He will be beating me by the weekend. I guarantee it.

A Plan

So this behavior thing has GOT TO CHANGE.

Chuck and I have a plan. A new strategy for the kids. We will triumph. Mark my words.

It's concise. Straightforward. Like my writing right now. It's nothing revolutionary but we feel good about it, and I think it will get us all on the exact same page.

For Ryker, we are also instituting a new sticker chart. Instead of having a very consequence-focused approach with him, which is what it's come to in the last few months, we are focusing on rewards. It will be based on him talking about his feelings as well as his behavior at school.

I came home completely jazzed about this. I also planned to really work on getting them to talk more about their feelings. Ryk is barely doing that. Jack does it sporadically. Before I could even get going, Ryker revealed that some kids are being mean to him at school, complete with details about what they are saying.

I started to talk to Jack about that at bedtime, in the hopes that me letting him in on the "adult" stuff would help his behavior towards his brother. He cut me off, in a nice way, and said "kids are teasing me too."

I must have just had a "tell Momma all about it" kind of look on my face. I'm really glad they both told me, and we have plans in place, and neither is anything horrifically awful, but hearing that your kids are feeling sad is THE WORST THING EVER. We'll work on it all though - their feelings, their reaction to peers, their control over their own words and actions. Giddy up.

As an aside - we had Jack's well child appointment yesterday. I love those. We love our pediatrician a lot. Jack is 4'5" and 74 lbs. That puts him in the 92nd percentile for weight and 99th for height. Height predictors now put him at 6'6".

He was adorable - answering questions himself and giggling through the entire appointment, including his Tetanus shot. I would think that was really odd, but I used to laugh (instead of cry) while the trainers at Carleton worked all the knots out of my back with their elbows, so I kind of get it.

That's all.

The Boys

We seem to have a teeter-totter kind of house around here. One kid up (good behavior), and the other down. At least they take turns, right? That's thoughtful.

Ryker is having a tough time with his behavior. Dealing with his "fwust-twa-tions". He's working through it, learning that he does NOT like the consequences at home when he has a bad day at school. Hopefully he'll turn it around soon, and luckily for us, his behavior at home is not-too-shabby.

And while he has fallen down a bit, Jack has SOARED. He's doing SO well. He graduated (my term) from his therapy yesterday. She doesn't think he needs to keep seeing her because he's doing such a good job dealing with his anger and frustrations. Go Jack! He also started 1st grade at a new school. He's now attending Seven Hills Classical Academy, which is right up the street from us. It's a free public charter and really rigorous academically. They teach the kids Latin and he's loving learning that. Did you know there is no W and no J in the Latin alphabet? I didn't. So they replace the J with an I, making his first name Iackson.

The kids continue to crack us up - behavior aside. Jack and I decided that Ryker should be an Ewok for Halloween, only then I couldn't find any costumes that were for bigger kids. Jack then declared that he wanted to be the Incredible Smash. Huh? He meant the Incredible Hulk. Then he goes "Ryker can be Superman and we wouldn't have to buy a costume because he fits in mine." I asked how he knew that and he goes "I tried it on him - last night."

Ryker is learning to speak English in a way we can understand. He routinely cracks us up with his creative phrasing. He was trying to tell us about how much something cost the other day, insisting it cost "six eight monies."

Last night he showed me two tiny tins that he keeps in his room. They have a few Pokemon cards in them, some monies, two little green BBs that he found in the backyard from previous owners which he insists on calling "green beans," and one little folded up piece of paper. He pulled the piece of paper out last, carefully unfolded it, and showed me. It was a little note saying "45 cents," which was one of many that Jack made to denote the cards he would sell and for how much. Ryker goes "and den dere's dis." He was so proud of it. He goes "Jackson gave it to me. It says 'this costs $20, Ryker'." Then he nodded earnestly, carefully folded it back up and placed it back in the tin.

And I'll leave you with a story from last night that perfectly explains both of their personalities right now. We were in Walgreens and Jack decided he wanted to go a few doors down in the strip mall to the Dollar Store (thanks to Gaga for introducing him to that particular shopping experience!). We marched into the store and promptly realized it was NOT a dollar store. It was the Family Dollar, which was a deceptive title, and highly disappointing to Jack. I'm trying to play it cool and not turn on a dime to walk back out, and while I'm standing there, the saleslady grabs my bag from me and gives me a clothespin. 'Cause that's normal. So now I'm busy contemplating why she just did that, and Jack has stopped dead in his tracks and is trying to figure out what in this store is ACTUALLY one dollar. I go to him to whisper that this is NOT the Dollar Store and that we made a mistake. I turn around and see the saleslady coming back to me with Ryker trailing her. Apparently he had chased her down to ask why she took my bag from me and to make sure she was going to give it back.

That pretty well sums up the boys.

What Pokemon Has Done to My Family

No really, this is going to be a positive post! Well, most of it.

Jack got sucked in to the Pokemon craze. I'm not sure exactly when it happened. I know that several neighbor kids are into it, so I think he got exposed and I didn't have time to properly talk him out of it.

I will admit to having bought him some cards. I paid for half of a pack and then made him earn my half by stopping sucking his thumb. Yes, we're still dealing with that and yes, I'm not above bribery.

But mostly he buys his own with the money he earns from his chores. Fine.

He has binders and pocket sleeves and he carries them around with him often. He tries to teach me how to play. I'm hopelessly confused, which I guess is frustrating to him because his Monday Wish the other day (a new tradition in our house) was that Mommy and Daddy would suddenly know how to play Pokemon without him having to explain it anymore.

But it has redeeming qualities. He does lots of math while playing with them. Pokemon is all about how much "damage" each card does to the other one - as in "this card does 180 damage to your card." And while that's a really negative thing to base a game on, and not remotely grammatically correct as a statement, it does make him add and subtract like a mad man.

He also tries to read the cards, which include relatively hard words which he attempts with gusto.

He saves his money to buy more cards and researches which stores sell their packs the cheapest. He's learning valuable money-management lessons, like the now infamous "It is not okay to use daddy's Ebay account to buy ONE Pokemon card for $15." It was a bold move though - you have to give him credit for that.

He also, with absolutely ZERO prompting from us, gave Ryker a huge stack of cards and his very own pocket sleeves. It was the happiest day of Ryker's entire life. They now sit contentedly for MINUTES ON END looking at the cards and rearranging them in the pocket sleeves. They sneak into each other's rooms to sit quietly playing with them.

So it's not all bad.

Nikki's Wedding!

We returned yesterday from our trip to Chicago for my best friend's wedding. If you'll remember, I met Nik our first day at Carleton College for pre-season soccer practice. We've been best friends ever since, and I had the honor of being her Matron of Honor (aka Wingman).

If you are on Facebook you saw some of these already, but I wanted a complete set. Various quality, sorry.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/vannostrandfamily/sets/72157630844824806

Math

I'm not that good at math. I'm okay, but nothing to write home about. Chuck's no better. He always said that he would have majored in physics if he had been better at math.

This makes Jack even more of a conundrum. The kid is a freak at math. I mean that in a good way.

The most recent example:

We were discussing rental properties. Random, I know. Jack goes, without pause, "so if they pay $1500 a month, I think they would pay about..hmm..almost $20,000 a year. Not quite."

He's not even 7.

7 Plagues

Is that what they are called?

Here's last night - ready?

Chuck got up at 3am to tell the kids to go back to bed. They have, as you'll recall, picked up the really nasty habit of getting up at 3-4am most days. I always am the one to address this in the night, as Chuck is always the one to get up in the morning. The "real" morning.

Anyway, Chuck got up, told Jack to go back to his own room and told them both to go back to sleep. A bit later they were at it again. Chuck again beat me to the punch and got in there.

When he came back, I apologized for not hearing them, and promptly got dive-bombed by some insect. I brushed it off and tried to go back to sleep. Then I had one on my arm. Fine. I always freak out about insects when I think they are on me, but I was trying to behave so I stayed quiet.

Looking back on it, I also heard some sort of...well...fluttering sound, coming from near the window (which is 6 inches away from Chuck's side of the bed).

After a few minutes, Chuck whispered "are you awake?" and I whispered "yep" and he whispered "can I turn the light on?" and I whispered "sure." He turned his reading light on but I couldn't see past him and I think I had my eyes closed anyway.

He turned it back off and got up out of bed calmly. I got up too because I had to go to the bathroom. As I walked into the bathroom, Chuck goes "I'm going to vacuum some bugs up, is that okay?" and I was completely confused but nodded. I was even more confused because it was totally dark in the room.

This is 4am, by the way.

I said "why don't you turn the light on?" and he goes "I've seen enough." I said it again and he turned it on, and then I understood.

PILES of winged something or others all over the windowsill next to Chuck's side, and once the light went on, they all took flight towards the ceiling fan. They were all over the bed too.

OMG it was AWFUL. Are you squirming? Well good! I was too and now you all have to share it.  So there.

Ryker came in, hearing the shop vac running. (4am, remember?)

I got him back to his room, then Jack back to his. I came out to the living room and started googling "there are insects flying around my bedroom." Flying ants, it turns out. I didn't know ants could fly. They can. Not well, but they can. Ryker's light went on. I went in there, turned it off, came back out. Jack's light went on. I went back, ordered Ryk into Jack's room, and declared a slumber party. We piled on to Jack's bed and I read them stories about flying ants off the iPad. Around 5am I let them turn a movie on because they couldn't sleep (I have no idea WHY) and I tried unsuccessfully to sleep myself. Chuck was 60 minutes into his 90 minute marathon vacuuming session and visions of flying ants danced in all of our heads.

Anyway, all's well that ends well. I met Larry the Exterminator, who is the greatest guy ever. Owner/operator and just a sweet older guy. He had a great time harassing me about my growing fear of bugs - telling me these ants had been here awhile, "watching" me. Thanks Larry.

I think they are all taken care of though. I will try to sleep tonight. Wish me luck.

Gala 2012

My third pass at a Gala at the museum. Each has had it's own challenges, and this was no exception. Keeps me on my toes. Here are some pictures:

The After Party

 Shawn (the artist) inspecting his work

 The Boom Boom Room - before guests arrived

 Crowd shot

Scott (a member of the Gala Committee) and me

 Front Steps

 Annie, Julianne, Dan, Emily, me and Michelle after the party

 Annie, Emily and me

Ryker is 4

I've done the birth story before, I won't make you all relive it. But my sweet boy is 4 years old today.

He looks so GROWN to me all the sudden. He's been getting so much taller the last few months, and losing the baby-chubbiness.

Here's a rundown of this moment in Rykerdom, for posterity's sake.

He's the sweetest thing - loves giving hugs and kisses, tells me often that I look beautiful as I'm getting ready in the morning, and genuinely worries about his big brother. He STILL cries when he thinks Jack is getting in trouble or is upset about something.

He's also hilarious. He loves cracking people up - making funny faces and dancing all around, even in public. He's a complete ham and, so far, very outgoing.

He asks very strange questions all the time that keep me on my toes. His latest was on the way to school on Friday. Out of the clear blue, he asks "What would happen if a giant baby sat on our car?" I was sure I hadn't heard him right. Jack stared at him for a sec, and then goes "A giant baby? That'd be YOU!" and cracked up laughing. Ryker laughed too, then paused, and then asked it again completely seriously.

He is convinced he saw a camel at Fort Snelling State Park yesterday.

He loves cookies and ice cream and pancakes and mac n cheese and Jimmy Johns (his birthday lunch). He loves baths and cleaning and playing with Lincoln Logs and watching movies and getting up at 4 in the morning. I approve of 4 out of 5 of those.

I'm completely mesmerized by how adorable he is - I could stare at him all day and be perfectly content.  I often do, actually. He has beautiful eyes and a sweet sweet face.

So happy birthday to my sweet guy. I love you lots.

Shopping

I posted part of this on Facebook, but I'll do it again because is was THAT good.

Last night I got home before Chuck and the boys. They came running in -- Jack first, waving $15 in the air; Ryker following, wearing shoes, a tshirt and an oversized sweatshirt. No pants.

Jack screams "I got $15!!!!" and Ryker screams "I'm not wearing any PANTS!!!"

I got Ryk into pants, verified that Jack came by that money honestly, and we headed off to Target to SPEND IT! I remembered that Grandmommy had given Ryker $3 during a recent visit, so I gave that to him to spend too.

We spent 20 minutes in the dollar section picking 3 items. Ryker emerged with a squishy ball, a Superman book and a pack of Airheads.

Jack picked another Pokemon set. He's obsessed. It cost $20 but he told me he brought an additional $5 of his money to cover it. (The $15 was a graduation present from his former preschool teacher. He's back there this summer.)

We got to the 10 Items or Less check out lane and Jack wanted to be rung out separately. Fine. Ryker and I stepped up. I had added a few items, because who can go to Target and NOT come out with a piece of clothing and a new sheet set? Honestly...

So anyway, I tried to convince Ryker to give ME his $3 so I could pay with a credit card. He thought I was scamming him and refused, so the nice checkout man said he'd take the $3 and put the rest on the card. Ryker proudly handed over his money, and then asked him where it went and kept asking him for it back. We got all checked out, so it was Jack's turn.

By now we have a half a dozen people queued up behind us. Jack's total was $21. He put the $15 in cash out there, then dumped $4 and something in change on the counter. The line of people cracked up (some rolled their eyes but I chose to ignore them). He only had a total of $19 and I only had a one dollar bill and a twenty. So I handed over the twenty and the dude gave us change and I made the kids say sorry to the line and thank them for their patience, and off we went.

Just another Friday.

Graduation

I love Kindergarten Graduation. What a hilarious concept. I think he stops graduating now until high school, right? As the principal kindly pointed out to all of us, Jack's class is the graduating class of 2024. The whole room gasped.

Today we all took our seats in the cafeteria and the kindergarteners all filed in. Jack was BEAMING. It was adorable.

They marched right up to the risers on stage and all stood there fidgeting and smiling and waving and swaying. They sang two songs and then got called one by one to receive their diplomas. Jack was the very last child called, and looked so proud walking to get his diploma, and then anxious to get the heck off the stage.

After that we had a reception in his room. His teacher made a slideshow of pics of them from the entire year, which she showed us but also gave to everyone as a present. It was so sweet to see the kids through the year, and even more sweet to see them sitting on the ground together WATCHING themselves, and singing along with the songs.

All of his work and his artwork were nicely put together for us to take home, and we started to look at that, but got distracted by taking pictures together, and with his teacher, and with Izzy, of course.

And then we were out of there.

It's been a big year. He's learned a lot - is a much better reader and writer and has found a love of math. He's also worked a lot on his emotions and controlling them.

I'm so proud of my big man. In 2024, do you think we'll all be sitting together watching our graduates fidget and sing This Little Light of Mine, then eat cookies and look at their artwork? It's a nice image, no?

3am Wake Up Calls, and the Reasons Why

If you're ever struck with a case of insomnia around 3am, call my cell. I'll be there. And awake.

Two nights in a row. The kids are 6 and 3 (almost four) - why are we still getting up in the night???

Tuesday night I woke up at 3:15am to the sound of Jack and Ryker talking to each other. Jack has a habit of waking up in the night and moving all of his bedding into Ryker's room and sleeping the rest of the night in there. We don't like this particularly, but we are picking our battles, and that's not one of them.

I woke up, dazed, and prepared to launch myself into Ryker's room, scare the daylights out of both of them, threaten them with death if they didn't go back to sleep, and hobble back to bed. I opened my door, ready to storm down the hallway, and almost tripped right over Jack. He was sitting in the middle of the hallway, lights on, tub of batteries in his lap, putting fresh ones in the Leap Pad, while carrying on a conversation with Ryker, who was sleepily thrashing around in his bed.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING???"

Scared them, yes.

Threaten certain death, yes.

Only at 3:45 it happened again. Not the batteries, but the waking up and the talking. I sent Jack to his room, whisper-yelling at both of them.

Fast forward to last night. I had a whole conversation with Jack, imploring him to be a big boy and stay in his own bed. He did GREAT. Ryker did not. Wanna know why? Because his lip is busted. He hurt it at school Wednesday afternoon and I spent all of last night trying not to look at him. Christi (my cousin-like-a-sister) made me look, and I'm holding her solely responsible for the knots in my stomach.

You all can thank me later for not getting an actual picture of his lip. Except my mom, who had to look at it via Facetime last night.

Chuck thought he was fine and that we shouldn't take him in. I went along with that and put myself to bed at 9pm - figuring unconscious was a better state than awake and trying not to think about my baby's lip.

Ryk awoke at 3am. What is it about 3am? He awoke, mumbling "mama" through a severely swollen lip.

"My wip is hurtin."

I had a moment of Mommy Genius - 3 in the morning - and got him a soda can to hold against it. No edges, no bumps. Gold Star to me. I patted his head until he fell asleep again.

This morning I looked sideways at him, averting my eyes but trying to gauge the severity. Then I left the room and made Chuck take a closer look. Then I demanded he take him somewhere. Most of you know about my aversion to blood and hospitals. I have fainted more than once because of those two things.

We spent the morning trying to call the clinic, talk to the triage nurse, keep ice (or Popsicles) against his lip, and telling him to "be kind to your face."  I tried to quickly make Jack's lunch, which ended with him locked in the bathroom sobbing and refusing to go to school because I hadn't put raspberries in there. We actually DID put raspberries in there, on the second attempt, but that wasn't good enough to overcome the first error (read: the lack of attention he was getting). I told him, through the bathroom door, that he was, in fact, going to school - because one parent was taking his little brother to the hospital for his busted lip and the other had to go to work to earn money to paid for said raspberries and the medical bills. So there.

Back to Ryk. He's out of Children's Hospital - no stitches. Wash with saline and he'll be fine. Whew.

So anyway, call me at 3.

The Garage Sale

First and Only.

Awhile back Chuck decided we should have a garage sale. I said no. I wanted to just donate it all and be done. Everyone I knew that had had a garage sale had only had A garage sale. Singular. I took that to mean it wasn't a very good idea.

We did it anyway.

I should back up a sec. I have a little tendency towards hoarding important things. Like everything ever associated with my kids. We have a fourth bedroom in the basement, and I have been using it to store all of the old kids toys and clothes. I have clothes back from when they were infants. I have hats, coats, mittens, boots, onesies, sleep sacks, overalls. SO MANY OVERALLS. I have car seats, three strollers, a crib, a race car bed, a highchair, baby swings, bouncy seats.

We also have hoarded books, computer stuff, cords, cameras, alarm clocks, vases. We have a set of bar stools. I'll stop now. You get the point.

Okay, so we decided to join the rest of the city of Bloomington in the city-wide garage sale.

I worked for weeks to get things thrown away, sorted, and cleaned. The last week was spent in the garage - setting up the tables and pricing everything. Nicki joined in our efforts, so I got to hang with her quite a bit, which was fun.

We started with a goal in mind of paying off the tires we had to put on the van last week. Not cheap,  and I was scared we wouldn't make it.

We paid them off by 3pm on the first day, and doubled it by the end. WHEEE!

I also met some very interesting people. There was the woman who was negotiating with me about the toys and seemed kind of gruff, until she softened and told me she buys toys and then takes them to Mexico to give to children there on Christmas. There was the man who got me to take half off my price for kids' clothes and made me button every button and fold them "nicely," who I was about ready to kick to the curb. Then I asked what he does with all of these clothes (he took over 40 pieces), and he told me he sends them back to his country, Kenya, for the children. His wife and kids still live there.

All in all I'd call it a success. We got rid of most of the major items we wanted to get rid of, made some extra money, and got a good lesson in not judging a garage-sale-attendee by its cover.