Funny Jon

Last night, the only clean shirt available after Jon got out of the bathtub was a purple 101 Dalmatians puppy shirt that says, "I need a hug." I told him I thought it would be fine and that he was just going to bed and that nobody would see it in the dark -- the other clothes were in the dryer and he could change in the morning.

He came downstairs this morning and peeked around the railing.

"Mom.," he said, " I actually like two different colors of purple -- both darker than this. I also like many different types of dogs, especially brown ones. Brown, boyish ones. And I do also like these types of dogs, but only the real kind and not on shirts."

He went on to say some more about it, the gist of which being that the purple dalmatian shirt wasn't really his choice and that he happened to be wearing it due to some unusual circumstances. . .and please not to laugh at him. But unfortunately it was really early in the morning (have I ever mentioned that mornings aren't my thing?) and I can't remember the rest verbatim any more. I promise it was equally funny, though.

The rest of us are a pretty quiet bunch, so Jon's dry, matter-of-fact speeches really add a nice element to family life -- like little splashes of color here and there.

Ready for Summer

I'm sitting here waiting for the laundry to be finished, and thinking of all the wonderful things I could do over the summer. I've got the itch to do something creative and crafty.

It'll have to wait about 30 more days, because for now, my day looks something like this:

6:15 -- wake up, issue Brandon's wake-up call (again and again). Make sure he stays on schedule for the next 45 minutes while giving one of a few standard lectures here and there about putting forth ones best effort or paying attention in class. . . or sometimes about *not* doing various things.

7:23 -- Karlon makes the first run for me while I get myself and Jon dressed. I leave with Jon around 8:30 to get him to school between 9am and 9:15. Turn back around and come home on M, TH and Fri (or sort papers at Brandon's school until 11:50 T and W).

Meanwhile, Ashley has morning work laid out for her and works on that while I'm gone. Karlon is extremely helpful in that he listens to some of her reading minutes and helps to explain difficult ideas and vocabulary words if necessary.

11: 20 -- arrive at school parking lot to get a good, up-front space in the circle for pick-up (otherwise, get stuck in the parking lot for a half-hour). Pick up Brandon along with Ashley's best friend Eliana (for carpool). Arrive back home 12:20-ish, drop Brandon off with instructions for getting started on homework, turn directly around and drive to Cedar Park to retrieve Jon. Arrive back home around 1:30pm.

At this point, I stop keeping track of time, and there never, ever seems to be enough of it. Lunch for 4 people (Jon ate at school), homework, flash cards, reading minutes with Brandon. Writing and spelling with Ashley, which is an extremely involved multi-sensory program but worth every ounce of effort. . . reading and homework with Jonathan. . . dinner. Math, science and social studies with Ashley. . . then more reading minutes on top of all of that.

Ashley finishes up and goes to bed maybe between 10:30 or 11pm. Then I have to do the next day's lesson planning which takes between 30 and 45 minutes. Then I lay out clothes, pack backpacks, snacks, and Jon's lunch.

Although I know I should go to bed at this point because it's always between 1 and 1:30, I seem to not be able to do so without some time to just rest my mind for a little while. Read a book or look at a magazine. Surf ebay. Blog.

So my thoughts have turned to what I'd like to do with my summer once it gets here. I feel like I want to clean out drawers. . . or paint something. It's a restless, spring-feverish kind of feeling. Almost giddy readiness for summer. But it'll have to wait another 30 days.

Looking over some of my entries from last year, I can remember how worn and tired I was. It's not like that this year, even though clearly I'm stretched far thinner than I was before. I feel like I've put in a year's worth of good, quality blood, sweat and tears and I can be proud of my work. When summer does finally get here, it will be a happy celebration of a complete, well-written chapter closed and neatly tied (but always available for reference).

Next year will be so much easier! Jon graduates to first grade and will be on the same campus as Brandon. I'm still not sure what's going to happen with Ashley (she is first on the waiting list since she's a sibling of a currently enrolled student), but either way, it will definitely be easier without 2 round-trips to Cedar Park and back every day.

The world of elementary education is my whole life right now. (I imagine reading about it must be about as exciting as watching somebody else's Grand Canyon slide-show). BUT. . . just 33 more days and I'll be filling the pages here with all sorts of interesting summertime adventures!

Correction (it's now after midnight) -- 32 more days and counting! Wahoo!

this and that

While working in the schoolroom, Ashley and I usually tune everything out. The boys in our house have quite active and developed imaginations. They both walk around playing with action figures and toys - usually independent of one another - while Ashley and I work together in the afternoons. It mostly only registers as background noise, but Jon said something so completely boyish the other day:

"Airship to castle! Airship to castle! Mayday, Mayday!"

We both looked up from what we were doing and chuckled at the total boyishness of what he said, but also at our shared amusement. It was one of those rare mother/daughter moments when we looked up at each other from across the table at the same time - like a mirror image of each other - and knew our thoughts were exactly the same, too. I hope we have a lot more moments like that over the years. I know she's only 8, but she's a good friend already.

She wrote a funny journal entry this week. The assignment was to write about a time she had solved a problem. She wrote:

"Once I couldn't think of anything to write. First I went to go see my dad. I didn't understand him, so I asked mom when she got home. Then I finally understood. Mom said I could write about the problem of not knowing what to write. Now I'm finished and my problem is solved!"

But honestly, some of these writing prompts really do leave even an adult thinking, "Huh. . .?"

The countdown to the TAKS is on, and Brandon and I are doing one practice test per day until next Tuesday (math) and Wednesday (reading). I'm not looking forward to waiting around for the results - it'll be about a month. . . .Inhale. . . Exhale. . . Inhale. . . Exhale. . . .for like the next thirty days!

It's Friday!

Actually, it's the wee hours of the morning on Saturday. Everyone in the house is asleep but me. It's quiet and peaceful. I'm straining to think of anything interesting to write about besides school.

Ahhh. I know.

Today I ran out of gas for the first time in my life. I knew the "you need gas" light was on, but it didn't seem like it had been on for that long. Very, very fortunately, it was a picture-perfect, gorgeous day and we stalled right next to a very nice playground within walking distance of home. Brandon was with me at the time and he had a lot of fun while we waited for AAA.

The place had formerly been one of those all-wooden fort-type playgrounds that were popular in the late 80's and early/mid '90's, but for whatever reason, the HOA replaced it with something more modern. One thing I really liked were some very classic playground toys that had been added, like a crane/scooper that picks up pebbles and moves them from place to place using handle mechanisms. . . I hadn't seen one of those in years. It's funny how things go out of fashion and then are all of a sudden considered novel again after a while.

(okay, one thing about school, but only briefly: reading through the Little House books with the kids, we stumbled across an archaic word -boughten - meaning an object that had been purchased from a store instead of having been made by hand -- "a boughten broom." *Everything* is purchased from somewhere these days -- and now the novelty is if something is hand-made).

Anyway, Brandon had a lot of fun with the scooper toy. Another thing I love about that playground (that I'm so glad they didn't change) is the swing set. It's got wonderful, deep bucket seats that are high enough for an adult to swing on comfortably. It's nice and tall, and when you swing, you go really high and touch the tips of the tree branches with your toes.

It was a fun, carefree thirty minutes that I most certainly would have said I didn't have time for if I'd been given the choice. Running out of gas in this case seemed more like a gift.

Farmer Boy complete!

Brandon finally finished Farmer Boy. He'd been chipping away at it steadily for about the last 8 weeks. . . but we bought him Diary of a Wimpy Kid and told him he couldn't start that one until he finished the one he was on. . . He read the rest of it (about 40 pages that would have otherwise taken a whole school-week) in a weekend and then directly - the *moment* he finished it picked up Diary of a Wimpy Kid and read the first 30 pages. (This is not nearly as impressive as it sounds since the font is pretty big and at least half of every page is covered with cartoon-like drawings).

But the funny thing is that Brandon couldn't bring himself to destroy Farmer Boy. I think like with Ashley, the book represented 8 weeks of hard work. An accomplishment. He gave it to me as a keepsake and said maybe I would want to remember the time he read Farmer Boy.

. . .And that's so totally like me. . . .to write something about how old he was and how long it took him to read in the cover (though that would be difficult in this case since the cover is long-gone), and keep it in my treasure box forever.

It's good he got the notion to finish the book because he'd been sick since last Wednesday and got behind on his reading minutes for school. I'll have to figure out how to explain to Mrs. Barnes why this kid who hates reading managed to read for nearly 5 hours over the weekend.

-----

Karlon was in the hospital with a bizarre case of cellulitis for a couple of days last week. It started with fever that just kept getting higher and higher. He was getting ready to go to the doctor (that's when you know he really, really feels bad) and saw in the mirror what he thought had been a bruise, but it was bright, fiery red. Strangely, there was no scratch or bug bite so it's a mystery how the infection started. He said he thought it must be something he picked up while doing all that hard work I'd made him . . .er, ever so gently suggested he. . . do in the back yard the weekend before. Great.

Anyway, he's back home now and things are practically back to normal. He'll be on some strong antibiotics for a while longer, but other than that, he's back to his old self again :)