Summer Break 2014

There is not a momma on the planet that longed for school to end as much as this one did!  E's last day of school was Friday and, boy, have we ever plunged into summer!  But before I get too far into summer stuff, let me flashback to the girls' last days of school.

G finished up 3 year-old preschool back in May.  Her end-of-year party was on the 19th.  They were all supposed to wear their preschool t-shirts.  G doesn't like hers because it is not pretty enough.  She fought me on the issue until she discovered a way around it:  cover the tee with a sweater.

She did eventually get hot enough to lose the sweater.  Here she is in action, sliding down a big inflatable.  A little blurry, but none of the joy is lost.

A few shots with friends....

...and her sweet teachers.

She had her school-is-out teeth cleaning.  You don't have those?  Hmmmm...

The weather's been awesome, so the Mr. and I squeezed in an after-the-kids-are-in-bed dinner date on the deck.

Baby girl and I enjoyed our mornings...in the hammock...

...and checking on our garden, watching it sprout and grow.  What pushed this piece of ground up?

Okra!  It may be little, but it's mighty.  A small-big miracle.  And definitely a lesson; small things can do big things.  I may be one, but God can be mighty through me.

Hanging in Daddy's truck while he gets his hair cut.

Baby girl is still doing ballet, although somewhat reluctantly these days.  The tutu has lost its appeal and now she doesn't want to stop playing outside to go to ballet.  But once we're there, she has fun with her friends.  Welllll, I had a picture, but it seriously just vanished into thin air.  Weird.

Ope!  Found it!

We've also been working on a chicken coop.

We've also been golfing with Daddy a couple of times.

And, we're finally to the last days of school!  Awards day...

Big Girl got 5 awards, for high scores on reading and math and for learning her sight words, also the Library and Sportsmanship awards for her class.

Her teachers were wonderful.  They loved my girl and took care of her like she was their own.  And they welcomed me into their classroom too.

The last day of school was this past Friday; it was field day.  I helped for a couple of hours then hung with Big Girl and her class for the rest of the day.  Sweet times. (I don't know why my phone insists on darkening one end of all my pix, but it is an old phone, and I will get a new one some day.)

Her first time at tug-o-war.  She said this was her favorite part of the day.  =)

We left about an hour early.  Here she is saying her goodbyes.  Hugs, hugs.  And awkward moments when the friends kept doing their puzzles after she said the meekest, softest "Bye" ever.  They didn't realize this was the last time they would be seeing each other for a long time.  

As we walked to the car, this is the beauty we saw.  

Squatting by her masterpiece.  

Last picture as a Kindergartener.  sniff, sniff

Friday night we had a "Kindergarten Last Blast" at an indoor play place for E and her class.  Only a few could make it, but big fun was had.

So, I started this post, thinking I would talk about all the fun things we have done since school got out.  And I spent all morning just getting to the last day of school.  Granted, I did multi-task.  I have drawn chalk roads, chased the cat, washed a few loads of laundry, balanced the checkbook, paid bills...

Tomorrow, perhaps, I will journal about all the fun summer adventures we've already had in one short week.  Tomorrow.  Or next month.

Can't Burst This Bubble

I'm a realist.  Seriously.  So much so that you might just wanna go ahead and call me a fuddy-dud.  I am completely honest with my girls, perhaps to a fault, about all aspects of life.  Sex?
Anything they have asked, I have answered.  Santa?  They know he's a made-up character like Charlie Brown and they also know about the real man, the inspiration behind Santa:  Saint Nicholas.  I gently correct incorrect assumptions and openly answer all questions to the best of my ability, and/or look up the answers to all the innumerable questions I cannot answer.  Even, the questions that most people think I'm wasting my time answering, I answer with the fullest explanation I can.  As an example, I provide a sample conversation between my me and my big girl when she was about two:

"What is that tall pole?"
"A radio tower."
"What does it do?"
"It sends and receives radio signals..." and I go on to explain what radio signals are, how satellites in space communicate with the radio tower and how that all works with the radio in our cars.

I think it was my sister who was with me at the time, though I'm not sure now, but whoever it was gave me a look like, "Really?  You really think she gets all that?"

No.  No, I don't think my girls understand all the truth I tell them, but here's what I believe in the core of my being:

Keep speaking the truth.  Some of it sinks in now and some of it will sink in later.  It may take 5, 50, or 500 times of explaining it, but start early and they'll absorb it earlier because they've been exposed to it sooner.  And that goes for all matters in life.

But today.  Today, I smiled and bit my lip when my baby girl said something that could have used a little gentle correction.  Today, I was asked a question I couldn't answer, and when I replied, "I don't know," baby girl said, "Daddy will know.  He knows all about those things."  I don't remember what the question was, but I assure you Daddy didn't know.  I clearly remember thinking that was a question that could not be easily answered by anyone.  Yet, I only smiled at the complete confidence baby girl has in her daddy and even said, fully aware that I was encouraging a belief that wasn't solid, "He really does know a lot about a lot of things."

And only a little while later, I was asked another question:  "Why do we call them (flying bugs) gnats?"  Again, I said, "I don't know," and added, "I don't know why things were given the names they have."  And again she said, "Daddy will know.  He knows about everything."

I love this confidence she has in her daddy.  And I just can't bring myself to tell her that, though he is pretty amazing, Daddy isn't quite as brilliant as she believes he is.  But what I love most about her steadfast belief in her daddy is the example it sets for all of us.  When we have a question, we should be so confident that "our daddy knows everything."

But she had another lesson to teach me.

When baby girl asked me the gnat question, we were standing in a field and Daddy was standing about ten feet away looking at a horse, but did she ask him her question?  No.  It was enough that she knew that he knew the answer.  She didn't even really want an answer after she assured herself that he knew the answer.  That was enough.

We have questions.  Boy, do we have questions!  Why is there disease and pain and death?  Why is there slavery?  Why do children die?  Why do relationships fail?  Why can't we get pregnant?  Why did we lose our job?  Why do we keep on making the same bad choices when we so desperately want to do right?  Why did our lives turn out this way?  Why?  Why?  Why?

Perhaps we should have baby girl's confidence:  Daddy knows.  And, even better, perhaps we should be comfortable with not knowing the answer simply because He does.

Pure Joy

Today's moments of joy:

Sending E off to school in a Superwoman outfit.

Running in Kroger, just as we were.  G in her pj's, covered up with a tu-tu and fleece jacket.  Me in my pj's--which are really yoga pants and a t-shirt--covered up with a fleece jacket.  No one would have ever known I didn't have a bra on.  But now you will all be wondering...when you see me in Kroger with a fleece jacket...won't you?

Sunbutter chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.  Oh, yay.

Coffee and (more) sunbutter cookies with an old friend.  Realizing again how much we have in common.  Catching up and encouraging each other to carry on in this difficult thing called life.

Having an open door and hearing the wind chimes through the screen door.

Driving with the windows down and letting our hands rise and dip in the wind.  Oh, how I wish I could have bottled G's laughter to open up and pour out whenever I need a lift.

Watching G smile and twirl and point and flex at ballet.

Getting free books thanks to a community-wide Literacy Month program.

Getting free BBQ thanks to a community business that truly gives as much as they receive.

Dropping off my girls at their Nana's and hearing G say, "You're wasting our time," and "You said you weren't going to stay long."  As ornery as it sounds, it is said in much jest, and with full understanding on my part that she does not want me interfering with her Nana time.  I am to drop them off and leave immediately so they can get straight to the business of playing.  Nana and I are to chat on our own time.

Gathering eggs with a friend.  Learning about chickens.  And chasing her two sweet boys as they run down hills, turn over riding toys, and climb in my Jeep.  Petting old their old dogs and going home with eggs and chicken poo on my hands and reminding myself, "Dirt is everything."  (Thanks, Katy.)

Welcoming our old Canadian friends back to town with hugs (and more cookies).

Some couch time and convo with my man.

And, now, a cup of cocoa and a good book while my man is off watching UK's tourney game with a friend.

Some days are hard, life is hard, but life is G O O D.

P.S.  I usually do not eat so much sugar, but maybe I should because this day was awesome.  Am I onto something here?  More sugar = more awesome?

Not So Sleepy Anymore

I really am not trying to write a cliff-hanger here.  I have no intention of going into the mini-series writing profession.  I seriously was just so sleepy while writing my last post, that I had to end abruptly and go to sleep.  I had no intention of sleeping two days, though it appears I have.  But, then again, appearances can be deceiving, and though I said I would pick up my story "tomorrow," which was in fact yesterday, life as we know can just happen.  And life happened.  And I am just now getting to pick up my story again.

First, I am ever-so-happy to relay that big girl has had no complications from her insane fall.  We took her to the doctor yesterday since she was still complaining of back pain and she checked out just fine.  A miracle, for real.  As he said, "If you are going to take a fall like that, this age is the time to do it."  So, for any of you who are older than 6, please do not plan on taking any serious falls in the future.  Your opportunity has passed.

Second, I know you all are eagerly anticipating the funny.  Or not.  But, unfortunate for those of you that are, I realize that the funny is not nearly as funny as I thought it was, which is the usual case with anything I find funny.  I am not known for my sense of humor, but what little bit I have is somewhat strange.  But for those of you that find strange things funny, here is the continuation of my tale...

So, my man is carrying big girl (hereforth--I think I just made that word up, but I like it so I'm leaving it, the definition you can surmise from the context--known as E) from the play set up to the house.  (Were you able to follow that last sentence?  No?  Hmmm...)  We walk onto the deck and I step in front of him to open the door so he can carry her inside, only the door is locked.

Okay, let me remind you here that we were about to leave when we let the girls go outside to play "for five minutes."  We had opened the back door and locked it because we were about to walk out the door, but had not pulled it to.  But then we decided to grab water bottles because the school was only providing pizza and soft drinks and we don't do soft drinks.  So, I walked back in to pour water and my man declares he is excessively hungry because he did not eat lunch and I knew he was only going to get one piece of pizza from the school, which would only be an appetizer for him.  So, I tossed the chicken salad on the table and he started munching.  So, we are in the kitchen, pouring water and munching chick salad when I witness (well, kinda, sorta) the crash and fall.  I jet and he jets behind me, pulling the door to as he comes.

Now, you may wonder why he took the time to pull the door to if we think our daughter is seriously injured.  You are wondering this, right?  Well, we have a feline shadow, called Shadow, who likes to follow us everywhere we go, even outside every now and then.  Only, there's a catch.  She really thinks she wants to go outside--and has even learned how to push the screen door open to get outside--until she's outside and she gets completely freaked out by every little sound and movement and runs to hide and we have a terrible time coaxing her back into our arms or our house.  So, to keep the little adventurer safe and happy, we either lock the screen (which can only be done from the inside) or close the door.

Okay, so now that you know why we were locked out--because that was very important information--I can finally get to the funny part.  Only, remember it's not really funny anymore.

As it turns out, we had uncustomarily locked everything we own.  The garage was locked, so my man couldn't get his tools.  The cars were locked, so even the basic tool kits he keeps in there were inaccessible.  After borrowing a ladder from the neighbor and trying every window--even though we knew they were locked--some of them multiple times, he finally called the office secretary, Janet, to see if she could get the extra key to his truck (which is really the company truck) and bring it to him.  He thought if he could get in his truck, he might have the tools he needed to get into the house without destroying something.  Janet was free and even kind enough to run by the office, grab the extra key, and then deliver to our house.  We just had to wait.

Much time had already passed and it was cold and baby-big girl was still needing lots of cuddles.  (I say baby-big because she will always be my baby too even though she is my big girl. Just as my baby girl is also such a big girl, but I don't think she would appreciate if I call her big-baby girl. It only works one way.)  Our neighbor who had loaned the ladder invited us into her house to wait while my man figured out how to get in. Meanwhile, Janet arrived with the truck key, but alas!  He had nothing in his truck to aid in the break-in of our own property.  I of course did not know this because I was warm and cozy in the neighbor's house.  So, in a few (or many) more minutes when he came to get us and announced, "I'm in," I assumed he had found something in his truck to aid him.  "Yay!" I thought.  But when I asked how, he said...

"I kicked in the door."

Now, I do not know why this was so funny to me then, and actually is funny to me now again after typing it, but I laughed out loud at so many random times the rest of that night imagining him, with brute strength, kicking our door in.  My very calm, usually very rational, man, deciding that the best way into our home was to kick the door and bust up the door frame is just laugh-out-loud funny to me--all over again even now!

I had thought that perhaps the gigantic stressball I was carrying around from E's fall had just made me more prone to laughter, perhaps as stress relief.  But I am stress-free tonight and nearly in stitches all over again.

I'm sorry if you are not, but if you are not, then I would venture a guess that you do not know my man very well.  And I also predict that 40 years from now when my girls read this, because they will know their father then as well as I know him now, they will also find this mental image very funny.

To many more nights of laughter!  (if not busted doors)

G'night all.

Oh So Sleepy

I did it again. I started and finished a novel last night. And I slept two hours. Two. I fought a headache all day until big girl came home from school and I finally had to take a nap. 

But I of course didn't really nap. Between the squeals and laughter of my own two happies and the constant knocks on the door from neighborhood kids wanting my girls to come out and make happy, there were a few winks but hardly the nap I was looking for. 

Then my man came home and a knock came through the door again and my two happies became happier as they were finally released to go outside and play. Five minutes, we said, until we have to go (to the family reading event my big girl's school was hosting tonight).

My man and I were pouring water bottles and munching on chicken salad and crackers to supplement the one-piece-of-pizza-supper the school was going to provide, all while keeping an eye on the four girls playing on the swing set. Baby girl was on the slide. Big girl was on the swing, going just as high as the swing will go. A neighbor girl was swinging all askew beside her, while another neighbor was grabbing swing chains. I couldn't tell exactly what they were trying to achieve, or if there was just horseplay, but I did have a gut instinct of alarm--a crash seemed imminent. 

I saw big girl cresting in her forward swing, looked down (to screw on a water bottle lid, perhaps?), but immediately jerked my head back up (did I see the crash out of my periphery or was it just intuition?) just in time to see the swing come forward again, jerking, and empty! 

My gut clenched. Where is she? My man told me later I said it aloud. I took a sideways step to see her writhing body on the ground with three sets of eyes glued to her. I bolted. 

The yard seemed like eternity! I was vaguely aware of baby girl turning towards the house to get us, not realizing we were already half-way there. My man was running right behind me. I said, "It's ok," as I neared her, though I was sure she was badly hurt. The fall must have been eight feet. We bent down and asked what happened but she couldn't talk. The other girls tried to explain--but all they were sure of is that she flipped backwards out of the swing. We consoled and rubbed and patted and prayed and I noticed the pure fright in her sweet baby sister's eyes.

She complained of her back and did not want to move. After several minutes, she did roll over and finally agreed to let her daddy pick her up. We headed inside to examine her, only to realize when we reached the door that in our haste we had locked ourselves out. 

And here things take a turn for the funny, and we need funny, but my two hours of sleep is insufficient. I will take this story up again tomorrow. For now, let it suffice to say we think big girl is ok. Her main complaint is her back, which we will monitor and see a doctor if it persists. Til tomorrow then...