Literacy Night

The boys school hosts a Literacy Night for families each year. There's always a fun theme, games, books and food.  We've gone every year we've been at the school, and, while it's always a decent enough time, last night might have been our last one. Not because anything bad happened, but because while we were there it became so apparent that Wesley is getting a bit old for it. And talking to our family about the importance of reading and writing is a little bit of preaching to the choir.

On the up side of things. Both boys won books and the principal even made a trade with Wesley so he could have one of the intricate coloring books he's currently obsessed with.

Book raffle winner

Ryan trying to pedal "cheetah speed" to light up a lightbulb

You know he was working hard because his tongue was out

Digging for words to use in sentences - but to be honest, all Ryan did was dig in the sand

Wesley working a story

 It was it was towards the end of Literacy Night that things starting getting rough for Wesley. One of the rooms had a station where the kids were supposed to compose a piece of poetry about an animal.


 "Wesley loves poetry," I commented to the teacher running the station.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Wesley immediately went into full tween mode and started giving me the stink eye every chance he got.  I finally pulled him aside.

"What's the matter all of a sudden?" I asked.

"Why did you have to say that I liked poetry?" he demanded.

"Um, because I thought you did? You have written a whole bunch of poems - including one for your animal project this year and one for Mrs. B.'s room. You have poetry books at home. I thought that meant you liked poetry."

Wesley heaved a big sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Okay.....I guess I was wrong," I said. "I guess you used to like poetry and don't anymore. I'm sorry."

But my apology was too late, the night was practically ruined for him. And whatever I didn't ruin, another student did because a few minutes later I looked over at Wesley and found him clenching his fists, making "angry eyes,"  and growling under his breath.

"Now what's wrong?" I asked, figuring I embarrassed him again somehow.

"Mom, {name} just said that reading is stupid. What is wrong with some people?"

I'm actually a little proud by how upset Wesley got over that kid's comment, but it officially ended our time at Literacy Night. That's okay though, I think he understands the importance of reading.

Some Days They Amaze Me

Like most siblings, Wesley and Ryan have a real love hate relationship with each other. They are either inseparable - calling out Team Brothers, sleeping in the same room and playing together - or they can't stand each other and I hear cries of "You're so mean!" and "I wish I didn't have a brother!"

There doesn't seem to be much middle ground.

Mornings can be especially difficult since Wesley is a morning person and, nine times out of ten, wakes up in a good mood and ready to sing (loudly and off key) in the shower, while Ryan is always begging for just five more minutes to sleep despite me already being on the third wake up call.

Some mornings they surprise me though.

This week is the read-a-thon at their school and Wesley, in particular, wants to spend a lot of time reading. A couple of years ago, Santa brought each of them a bookmark with a built in digital timer, but neither child has really used them much. This morning Wesley decided that his digital timer bookmark was just the thing he needed to help him log the most minutes in the read-a-thon. He dug the timer out from the bottom of a desk drawer and proceeded to whine and complain loudly when it didn't turn on after at least 6 months of no use.

Ryan very calmly got up from the breakfast table and went downstairs. I honestly figured he was just getting away from his brother's foul mood, but he returned a couple of minutes later with a small screwdriver and a packet of batteries in various sizes. As Wesley watched (and attempted to micromanage) Ryan silently removed the back from the bookmark, took the battery out, matched the battery to the right size replacement in the package, then inserted the new batter and screwed the back on.  Then he disappeared again to put the screwdriver and batteries away.  When he came back up he said, "Wesley, I took care of the cat jobs for you too, so you have more time to read."

As if that wasn't awesome enough, Ryan also made Wesley's breakfast, "just the way he likes it."

What really tugged at my heartstrings about the whole thing was that no one asked Ryan to do any of it. He saw Wesley was getting upset and knew he could fix it. He saw how much the read-a-thon means to Wesley and worked to help make it a little easier for him. That's brotherly love.

And what comes around goes around. This evening, when Duane and Ryan were out of the house, I noticed that the dog was out of water. It's Ryan's week to take care of the dog, but when I mentioned it to Wesley he said, "Oh, I can give the dog water. Ryan helped me out so much this morning, it's the least I can do."

Some days they amaze me.

What a Difference a Few Days Makes

There are a lot of jokes about the weather in Central Ohio. We can laugh about it because all the jokes are completely true.

Want proof? The local news station posted this on Wednesday, Feb. 17th.

It got up to 68 degrees today. 68! In February! And in the same week when the kids had a snow day. But let me tell you, we made good use of the warm temperatures and sunshine. 

I took a run/walk. Well, I guess it would be a walk/run. I'm working up to being able to run my races, but it's fairly slow going and I only ran about half of my 2.25 miles, but it's a start.

Wesley and Ryan each had a friend over today - Wesley's friend was here in the AM and Ryan's friend came over after lunch.  We ended up at the park for part of the afternoon and ran into even more friends there, so it was pretty much perfect.

Cleo and I spent most of this very lazy day in front of the open window. She napped and I read.

This roller skating fiend!

Ryan on the swings

A couple of Ryan's best friends

Goofballs

Lucy enjoyed time at the park too

We had a pretty quiet dinner at home, then decided to check out a new cookie dough and ice cream place not too far from our house.  YUMMY!!

And now it's an evening in. Part of me really wishes we were out doing something on a Saturday night, but we're trying to save money and we have a pretty busy weekend ahead next week. So it's Buzzfeed quizes and animated movies on a Saturday night. I'm living the dream, folks.

But I Want to Build a Snowman

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This is usually the time of year when I REALLY start complaining about winter. It's no secret that winter is not exactly my favorite season and I hate being cold, but really, this winter hasn't given me too awfully much to complain about.

We've even been pretty lucky with snow days - at least from a parent's point of view. Today is our second snow day this school year and really, I don't think it's that bad out. The snow is heavy and wet and the temperature is going to hover right around freezing all day, so there might even be a little melting later on.   I mean, it's supposed to be nearly 60 by this weekend.  So what do I have to complain about?

I want a snow day with my kids.

As a parent, I realize how fortunate I was to grow up with parents that taught in the same school system I attended. Vacations didn't require lining up child care and spending money on summer camps. And best of all there was so scramble on snow days - everyone was off!

Now I have it pretty good. I'll readily admit that. Grandma and Grandpa H. live, quite literally, around the corner and Grandma is going to hang out with the kids today. But that doesn't quite keep me from feeling guilty about having to ask her. Especially since they kept the kids overnight on Valentines Day and all day yesterday when they had off school for President's Day. Grandma doesn't complain about it one little bit, but I hate that we have to rely on her so much.

And once again, I have it pretty good. My job is generally rather flexible and my supervisor is VERY understanding. If I needed to take a snow day off no one would make me feel guilty (other than myself) or look askance. But there's always something. Today for example, I am covering storytime at another building for a coworker that's on maternity leave and then I have three hours on desk by myself this afternoon.  Calling off, while normally not too big of a deal, would definitely make life more difficult and more stressful for a number of people at work today.

So it's Grandma to the rescue and I'm going in.

But I have a dream!
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In my dream I am "Snow Day Mom!" I get to make the kids a special breakfast - like pancakes or waffles or mini donuts, with hot chocolate, of course. We shovel the drive together (even though Duane ALWAYS takes care of this before he goes to work) and afterwards we build a snowman. We might even pile in the car and go to a sledding hill and I would definitely take a couple of turns on the sled. Then we'd return home for more hot chocolate and I'd make some cookies for us to eat while we snuggle under a blanket and watch a movie.

Doesn't that sound amazing?

But I know it wouldn't end up like that. The kids would fight all day or complain that they were cold. We'd be out of the ingredients for whatever I wanted to make or the temperature would be so cold I wouldn't want to go out in the snow.

The dream is great, but I have a feeling reality would be a let down.

Speaking of reality. Time to go to work.

Valentines Day Recap

Sorry I didn't post about Valentines Day earlier, but a recap will have to do.

It did not start off as a stellar Valentines Day. Honestly, it started off rather rough. I won't go into all the details here, but let it suffice to say that for the first time in the Valentines history of Heather and Duane, there were tears shed. A lot of tears.

Luckily, I have an amazing husband who loves me and is also amazingly understanding, so the day was able to end on a high note.

We took the boys to see "Kung Fu Panda 3" at the movie theater. I want to go on record as stating that I had ZERO interest in seeing the movie and was only there because the boys wanted to see it and their parents wanted to give them a lovely Valentines surprise. Of course, it's hard to surprise Ryan because he asked (repeatedly) where we were going.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Duane teasingly asked.

"I left it at home," Ryan replied.

My three Valentines all in row

For our romantic part of the holiday, Duane and I headed downtown to a restaurant with a tasting menu and wine flight (me) for Valentine's Day. Grandma and Grandpa H. watched the boys so Duane and I could get dressed up and go out to a real, grown up restaurant with not a kids menu in sight.

I had my hairdresser show me how to do a simple and soft looking updo

I want this man to be my Valentine forever

Ready for our night out

Dinner was fantastic. The plates just came to us - no menu - and the server would describe what was before us. No bad dishes. It was all delicious!

Our amuse bouche was a smoked salmon rose with lemon crème fraiche, and American caviar with dill oil. The dill oil really made the dish.

A salad of roasted beets with goat cheese, blackberries and roasted hazelnuts. "Try the grey stuff. It's delicious!"

Carpaccio of celery root and carrots with braised artichokes, shaved parmaggiano-reggiano, and black truffle oil

Now this! This was AMAZING!!! Duet of 48 hr braised beef short ribs and seared Chilean bass, au gratin potatoes, brussels sprout leaves

Dessert was essentially a buckeye - peanut butter mousse with a hint of cumin, on a chocolate cake, covered in chocolate ganache. Heavenly!

After the slippery and cold drive home, we snuggled on the couch and watched a bit of a movie. Rough start or not, there is no one else I'd rather spend my Valentines Day.  Duane is the love of my life in rain and shine. For always.

Is It the Final Countdown?

When I first had kids my dad told me "the days are long, but the years are short." That's hard to remember when you are elbow deep in poopy diapers, reading the same book for the sixteenth time that morning, and the baby still won't stop crying.

But you know what? As with most things, my dad knew exactly what he was talking about.

Suddenly I have full boys, not little kids. And one of those kids is quickly moving towards the teen years. I look at him and wonder where my boy has gone. His hands are almost as big as mine. His feet are almost as big as mine. Heck, he's almost as tall as his grandma! 

Even if you look past Wesley's size, his attitude will tell you he's growing up. He's already asked me not to hug and kiss him in public (although I am able to drape an arm across his shoulder and sometimes sneak in a side hug.) 

Ryan is still my baby though. He's always willing to hold my hand or give me a hug. He crawls into my lap almost every morning and always tells me he loves me. This morning his declaration of love was even accompanied by a peck on the lips. 

And as he walked away from me I couldn't help but wonder how many more of those kisses I still have coming. I hate to admit it, but I know those days are numbered. I know that it's just going to feel like a blink of an eye before Ryan is towering over me and (maybe) remembering to give me a hug and shout goodbye on the way out the door. 

I think the worst part is that I won't know it's the last one when it happens. I'll think it's a day like any other and probably won't give that kiss a second thought, when I should be memorizing it. 

Pardon My Rant

I love my kids' school. Yes, I've been a little frustrated with communication lately, but I still love the school. When we moved several years ago we made a conscious decision to stay in the school district and we plan to continue with our school system through graduation. I'm fully aware that our school system doesn't have the best reputation, but I believe we have to work with it and make it great. I'm happy with the education my kids are receiving and I think I received a good education in the same system.

Today I was staffing the children's desk at work and a woman came up, heaved a sigh and asked, "Do you have any books on black history?"

"Well, that's a pretty broad topic," I replied. "Do you have a particular time period or person you'd like to focus on?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Just whatever you have. It's for my class of kids."

Great way to care, I thought, already judging the women. But instead I pushed on with my reference interview.  "And what grade would that be?"

"I teach kindergarten and first," she answered before adding in conspiratorial tone, "but I teach for ________  schools, so you know, it's really more like preschool."

Let me tell you, I saw red!  First of all, the woman didn't care one lick what books I gave her. I'm pretty certain I could have handed her any book with an African American on the cover and she would've happily taken it. It was like she just had to have something to prove she was teaching the subject.  Secondly, she just insulted me, my kids, my friends' kids, and the mayor of the city (who went to high school with.)

"Oh? What school do you teach in?" I asked.

"______ School, but you've probably never heard of it. It's a real trouble school."

I barely managed to keep my voice steady as I replied, "I was just asking because my kids attend ____________ Schools, and I attended them from kindergarten through high school. I thought maybe I'd know it or know someone there."

She didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed.  She took her books and went merrily on her way leaving me seething. Who gives her the right to insult all the kids and parents of ______________ Schools like that? Does she really think the all the students (and parents) in the system are lazy and not worth teaching? Because that's the impression she gave. I'm sure she thought that she could confide in the nice librarian of the suburban library system and they could have a little chuckle over the poor saps that are "stuck" in the big city school system. And she is a teacher in the system? Good grief. I feel sorry for her students.

You don't talk about your students like that  - especially not to strangers. You never know who you might be talking to or who may be listening. What if some other students from  ____________ Schools had been in the room and overheard her? Can you imagine how they might feel hearing someone who is supposed to be a respected teacher talk about them like that?

I was upset by this interaction for the rest of the day and just typing this is getting my blood boiling again. There are good/bad teacher everywhere. There are good/bad students everywhere.  We know where we belong and are proud to be there.

The Heart Day Approaches

Valentine's Day is just around the corner. Love it or hate it, you can't escape it.  Today we went on a quest to get Valentines for the kids classes and teachers. Aside from a card, I like to send a little something extra in for the teachers on Valentine's Day.

Really, I'd like to send them each a bottle of wine for all that their job entails, but somehow I don't think I could get away with it.  We usually let the kids pick out a little box of chocolates or something for them. But this year I am planning on doing a little baking and thought I'd let the boys choose whether they'd like to take in a box of candy, or some cream cheese frosted red velvet brownies.

Neither one of them hesitated a moment before making their choice. "Definitely the brownies, Mom!" Ryan shouted. "Your baking is worth it!"

And that right there can be my Valentine.

Only in His Dreams

The other day I walked into Ryan's room to wake him up.

"Ryan honey," I said softly as I gently shook his leg. "It's time to wake up."

"Am I in trouble?" he asked in a very sleepy voice with his eyes barely cracked open. 

"No. You're not in trouble."

"Oh," he said rolling over. "It must have been a dream."

Don't Mess with the Mommy

Last night in the car Wesley mentioned the field trip he was going on today to see the Jazz Arts Group.

"Oh! I'm so glad you reminded me," I said. "I had almost forgot. Please be sure to put on a sweater with your jeans and tennis shoes."

"Mo-om!" yes, I got the two syllable mom here, "They said we didn't have to dress up for it!."

"Putting a sweater on with jeans and tennis shoes isn't dressing up. I'm not asking you to wear nice pants and church shoes, just a sweater."

"But I had a goal of wearing a different hoodie every day this week to school," he whined.

"I know you did, and I'm sorry about that. But when you go on a field trip, the way you look is a reflection on your school and your family and I don't want you wearing a hoodie."

He whined some more and Duane put his foot down and that was that.

Or so I thought.

When I woke Wesley up this morning I reminded him to put a sweater on when he got dressed. That went over like a lead balloon.

"I don't want to wear a sweater!" he insisted. "Can't I wear something else?"

I sighed. "Yes. You can wear a collar shirt."

Wesley walked to his closet opened the door and looked at his collar shirts. "All of these have buttons. I don't want to wear a button shirt."

"So wear a sweater," I said.

"But I don't want to wear a sweater!"

I took a deep breath or two, then very calmly said, "Wesley, you can wear a sweater or a collar shirt. Those are your options. And you have two minutes to pick one out or I am going to pick one out for you, then hold you down and dress you as if you were a toddler."  Then I walked out of the room.

Less then two minutes later, Wesley got in the shower and when he came out of the bathroom he was wearing a very nice blue button down shirt. Score one for the mommy.