“I’ll never have a cell phone” slowly turned into “Well, unless I could get an iPhone. Those things are pretty nice” and then into “I’m going on this long trip by myself. I should probably get a cell phone. You can’t find a pay phone anymore, for one thing.”
A long-lost Best Buy $10 gift card from a friend turned into a Wire-style burner phone, then a little trip to tip-land turned that into this:
Julie joins the 21st century. And not a moment too soon.
We found this vertebra in our dining room. Chris stepped on it in his sock feet, which was a bit surprising. We have no idea how it got there. We do have a cat, and she’s interested in small animals, but this bone is actually too big to have been part of a mouse; and I would expect Tephra to leave a slimy organ underfoot rather than a lovely bone with no trace of meat on it (My cat Tiger left organs; I think I only once stepped barefoot on a liver, but that was enough.).
I’m considering starting Science Fridays with my kids—and hoping that NPR doesn’t take me to task for use of the idea. This afternoon, I’m planning to take them to the Science Factory, because it’s quite cold and wet here in Eugene today (snowflakes this morning! winter storm warning at the pass!), and our membership to the Museum of Natural and Cultural History gets us into the Science Factory (and a slew of other fun places) for free.
Other Fridays, I’d like to set up some experiments and science activities. Sylvan, as I’ve mentioned before on this blog, only chooses non-fiction books from his school library. One such book was of science experiments done with items most households already have (string, ice, and salt, for instance; or dish soap, water, and paper). I just found another good resource, Scientific American’s Bring Science Home page. They add an activity every week, and the supply lists look straightforward. Some activities look messy, others fun, many simple enough for my 6-year-old to carry out and understand, and others too obscure for most grown-ups (banana DNA). We’ll try out some Science Friday activities and experiments, from Bring Science Home and the library, and we’ll keep you updated with blog posts and photos.
Dear Elena,
I glimpsed my future today, and my knees trembled a bit. Daddy and I had a conference with your preschool teacher. I went in without any concerns; unlike some parents, I don’t expect you to learn all your letters or start long division in preschool. I do expect you to become better at sharing, expressing your feelings, and cooperating. Unfortunately, that’s not the way it’s progressing at the moment. You had to be removed from the lunch table today because you were trying to put an orange peel on your friend’s plate. When you were asked to stop, you refused.
We’ve noticed that stubborn streak at home, too. After I removed you from the couch for jumping on it the other day, you smiled sweetly at me and jumped on the couch again. Before you entered preschool, I joked that you were socially ready for Kindergarten: you shared well and played with others. Now, though, you’ve started hitting your friends if they’re in your space.
Elena in Grampa Dick's clothes. That makes this cute little tailored number about 65 years old!
Now, I’m not worried that you’ll keep hitting your friends. But I can see the social butterfly with a silly, stubborn streak causing a ruckus in Kindergarten—and an even bigger ruckus in 7th grade. Ruckus-maker, I’m not ready! I have to prepare.
It’s just that I think of you as easy: a pleasure to be with, easy to please, happy in the morning, with the ability to make everyone laugh. But you are three. Time to test out those parents and teachers, you say, and find out what they’re made of.
I love you, Miss.
Love,
Mommy
Elena being gentle with her new cousin, King George. Or Dominic.
Dear Sylvan,
74 months old?! I remember figuring out how old I was in months when I was 80-something months old. Half a trip around the sun and you’ll be there. While I could count up all the months it’s been since I last wrote you a birthday letter, I’ll dismiss with the self-flagellation and just get to the point. You’re growing every day, and I want to write some of it down for you.
Good night for now, Sweets.
Love,
Mommy
We got off to a slow start, but the day picked up, with a hike in the afternoon followed by an evening birthday party at Skateworld!
Our forest fairy.
When we started off on the Spencer Butte trail—a one-mile trail to the top of a mountain south of Eugene with fantastic views of the city—a forest fairy played a panflute somewhere in the woods above us. We never saw our musician (perhaps because, as Chris noted, when forest fairies stand still, they camouflage themselves as trees), but her notes wafting through the yellow leaves added a general magic to our hike. Elena searched for forest fairies in any likely hollowed log or hole in the ground on the way up.
Both kids reached the top with no (very little?) whining. I’ve been avoiding taking both kids up here alone, because I didn’t want to have a whiney melt-down (or deal with the kids having one), but they were both troopers. Skittles helped (four each on the way up, two on the way down).
Smiles and yogurt-covered raisins (or raisin-covered raisins, if you're Elena).
Mr. S looks so tall and thin in this photo. He took the slippery rocks like a pro. He naturally got low to better balance and slide if necessary. Time to take this one rock climbing.
After a quick hike down, which included a troll under a bridge (Sylvan the troll chasing some college girls [wouldn’t you have thought I’d have at least another six years before that happened?]), a family of five hiking with seventeen dogs (okay, seven), and a feral chicken, it was on to Skateworld! Okay, Tecnu showers and then Skateworld!
Our addition to the 70s-themed potluck. This and tater tots. Did you know that Easy Cheese is actually mostly cheese? I didn't mean to disappoint you.
Yes, that's a My Little Unicorn with a disco ball atop Rachael's cake. And Jiffy Pop on the table.
Sylvan trying out the skates. Chris confident in his 70s shirt. Sylvan was actually way better on skates than he was last year. He was slow, but he didn't need a hand. He didn't skate long, but he tried it out. Kindergarten's changing this one, and all for the better!
Elena's frustrating game of air hockey. Did you know that air hockey's really hard when you can only reach eight inches onto the table?
Lots of skating fun! Rachael’s skate mix was superb, and included Stevie Wonder’s Superstitious, Summer Lovin’ from Grease, Barry Manilow’s Copacabana (which is somehow inexplicably linked to Carvel ice cream with rainbow sprinkles in my brain), the Gambler, and Take Me Home, Country Roads. Passing on roller skating to another generation! Sylvan’s going again on Friday with the other school-age children who don’t have school on account of my Mom’s birthday (don’t tell her it’s Veteran’s Day; she knows everything shuts down for her birthday).
Here’s UO President Richard Lariviere reading to Elena’s preschool class. Elena is sitting farthest from the camera, under the wooden table with the arch in it. You can sometimes see her hair and her sparkly pink shoes.
You can see a picture of him reading to Sylvan’s class as well. Sylvan is in the third (bottom) picture, wearing a green and off-white shirt with horizontal stripes. You can only see his back, hair, and one ear.
Both kids were suitably impressed. Elena told us all about the story of the cat who had a bunch of different colored shoes, and Sylvan said that his story was a Berenstain Bears story about a bully.
I’m hoping to limit my kids’ extracurricular activities to one at a time. I have no desire to ever be called a “soccer mom.” I dislike the term almost as much as “play date.” Ick. And I really don’t want to drive all over town, mini-van or not. But Elena started a dance class today (we arrived by bike), and it was also one of Sylvan’s two karate days a week. Here a few shots of them in action.
It was interesting to watch Elena respond to a class that a number of the other little girls have already taken. Those girls had seen a tap shuffle and ballet’s first position before, and neither of those things is particularly easy for someone who’s only been walking for two years and skipping for a few months. When she felt overwhelmed, Elena stepped out of class and came over to me. I’ve done the same myself in classes where I’m getting too much choreography in too little time; I step out of class and sit down, feeling like it will never permeate my brain to make it into my body. I told Elena she could stand with me but that she couldn’t sit on my lap. She went back and participated. Then, when she needed reassurance, she’d come get a hug and then return to the class.
Ready for battle, but all about defense
