Cooking 101

The shirt says, I WAS RAISED ON THE STREET. Because my little munchkin is one tough cookie.

I've started teaching Jack to cook, so he can win friends and influence people. Or, " score points with the babes" as he defines it. Whatever. I wanted everone to like his first dish, so we went with Swedish meatballs and pasta. Who doesn't like meat and balls mixed with carbs?

When it was time to cook the pasta, I had him fill a big pot with water and told him to add a dash of salt.

"Oh yeah, is that because salt is ionic and will affect the H-bonds between water molecules and make them weaker and make it easier for them to break apart into the gaseous state, so it boils faster?" says Mitch's son.

"Nooooo, it's because salt tastes good. Now shut up and cook." Okay, I didn't exactly tell him to shut up. But I wanted to.

Whatever the reason for salting the pasta water, Jack's first dinner was very tasty, and every bite was eaten. Because it was perfectly seasoned.

Misc. with a side of snot

I was just cleaning pictures of my camera and came across these photos of my mud-loving girls, taken the last hot weekend we had, before everything got gray and windy. My girl Grace loves the feel of mud on her feet and stood inside her mudpies all day.
When I brought Olivia home from school with a headache, Grace wasn't about to be outdone. If she'd had a turban, she would have worn it. She declared she was too "weak and exhausted to go to school without Olivia". I was too weak and exhausted to argue with her, so we all stayed home and watched the Wizard of Oz studied academics.
Mitch took the boys on an 8 mile hike to some caves, and when they got home, I heard repeated accounts of how I "would have fuh-reaked out, mom, it was so dangerous in those caves".
The girls were none too sick to put the garbage cans away, in their cheetah print robes, of course. I rounded out the week with a trip to the ER to get an injection of my favorite migraine cocktail. Now we're all on the mend, wading slowly through rivers of drying snot.

Pears.

"Mommy, these apples taste soooo much like pears!"

"That's because they are pears, Grace."

Mother of the Year

All of the kids felt crummy this morning, with various stages of the cold the new school year brought into our home. Jack was the only one with a fever, and the girls were begging to go to school, and Henry decided that since there were no video games on sick days, he might as well go to school with the girls. Jack settled onto the sick couch while I ferried the youngest three off to school. I checked the girls in and went out to the playground to check on Henry one last time before I went home. He was sitting down with his head in his hands, so I convinced him to ditch school and come home with me.

About an hour later, I got a call from the school secretary: "You have another soldier down. Olivia just threw up all over the hallway." Three minutes later, as I was walking through the school doors, Grace was coming in from the playground with the playground teacher, blood pouring from her nose. She fell and hit it on the monkey bars. I carried my vomit and blood covered babies out to the car and went home, feeling like the worst mother ever. Checked on the dinner in the crockpot, which I had forgotten to plug in! Four hours ago! Parasites!

Oh, and the washing machine is broken. Someone left screws in their pockets again. Barfy, bloody laundry! Grace came and sat in my lap with a very sad face, "I thought this would be a great day, but it is making me want to cry." Thank God I have a secret stash of chocolate that we could sneak behind the sick kids' backs....

Parasites, of course

Mitch is a lot more lenient when it comes to what he let's the kids watch on TV. And by that, I mean, I've walked in on him and Henry watching a cage fight, and he had Jack hooked on roller derby before he was out of diapers. A few weeks ago he let all the kids watch a show on the Discovery channel. Sounds educational, right? Well, it was. Very freaking educational. It was all about parasites, and how easy it is to get them from uncooked food and other sources found in the far reaches of our planet. The program also showed the removal of 12-foot long tapeworms from people and the various effects of parasites on the human body.

Now, ever since Henry viewed that program, he is completely OBSESSED with getting parasites. He won't pet the dog. Every plate of food that is set in front of him has to have been cooked to 165 degrees, and if it's meat, he actually will get the digital meat thermometer out. The lice lady at school came to check the entire student body last week and Henry nearly fainted during his hair check. This is my life, would you like a plate of bloody meat from the jungles of Africa? Served by a clown with really sharp teeth?

Friday, finally

It seems like Monday was a century ago. The boys have settled into their school routines pretty easily, although Henry is wiped at the end of the day. Putting clothes AND shoes on every day, let alone only getting one breakfast instead of First Breakfast and Second Breakfast has done a number on him. He likes his teacher, though, and more importantly I like his teacher (well, yes, it is all about me, why do you ask?).

Kindergarten has proven to be tricky. I can't believe we've had to deal with bullying already (no, Olivia was NOT the culprit), but for the past few days, at least, all has been peaceful and, as Grace says, "glorious" at school. I've been unbelievably proud of how my girls have stuck together and looked out for each other.

I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing with all my free time. I walk the dog and my fat ass, look at shoes online, and think about cleaning stuff. In a weak moment, I agreed to an untold number PTA volunteering positions, and that is taking up a lot of time, so I can't really get the house too clean. That's my story, anyway. Also, I'm very busy stalking the playground to make sure no one is messing with Grace. Fortunately, there is a walking trail next to the playground where I can look like I'm just another fitness-conscious mom, rather than a psycho stalker who's ready to go all, "The Hand that Rocks the Cradle" on a certain bully.

Another one rides the bus

The girls begged all weekend to ride the bus to school today, despite Henry's best efforts to dissuade and disillusion them. He agreed to go along, though, you know, just to make sure no one offered them a cigarette.
There's a kind of parent known as a "bus chaser". It appears I am that kind of parent. Shut up.

Yep, I'm still on their tail.......

They arrived safely at school, although it appears Olivia moved to her own seat and Grace has acquired a seat-mate. I can't wait to tell Mitch that Grace was sitting with a boy on the bus.
And, like a total dork, there I am to take picures like a stalking paparazzi.

KinderEffingGarten!

They woke before 6am, which wasn't a problem, as I had been up for hours. Olivia wanted a hair-do. This may not seem like a big deal, but it's pretty much the first time in her life that I haven't had to wrestle her to the ground just to comb her hair, let alone put anything fancy in it. She picked the biggest, brightest hair-bows we had. They walked around all morning with their backpacks on, until it was finally time to go. Mitch kept giving me sympathetic looks and I kept giving him the finger (okay, it was behind his back--sorry, babe).
Here they are about to enter through the doors of The System. I am still feeling pretty calm at this point. I'm even feeling optimistic that the waterproof mascara was for nothing.
They settled right in. I noticed that they had been placed at opposite sides of the room, but they seemed okay with it. This is the point where Mitch saw that a.) they were happy, and b.) I was about to lose my shit after all, so we hugged them goodbye hastily. He steered me out of the room quickly and I blubbered all the way to the parking lot. We were going to go out for breakfast, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit down and talk about this new chapter in our lives, so I sent him packing off to work and I went and ran errands.
They seemed to have had a wonderful first day, with a few exceptions. Apparently, I gave them two of Olivia's jackets and they had a fight and burst into tears at the end of the day, but I think it was probably due to the stress of keeping it together for several hours that sent them over the edge. Also, Grace had a hard time with the rule of raising your hand when you have something to say. "Mommy, that is a dumb rule. My hand was tired all day because I always have something to say." Indeed.

Olivia was ticked off that recess was only fifteen minutes and declared that she hated recess because of it. Also, they couldn't BELIEVE that one of the kids thought the sugar and cream bowls in the play tea set were CUPS! I said that maybe this little girl had never had a proper tea party and perhaps we should invite her over for one. The idea of never having a proper tea party shocked them into silence. Olivia said she made a friend, which I'm sure wouldn't have happened if they'd been placed next to each other in the classroom, so I'm filled with hope. We sat on the couch and they climbed on my lap when we got home. Olivia asked me to squeeze all the love out of her guts because it had been hurting her a little all day. *sniff*

Gratuitous cute shoe shot

Transitions

The boys are almost through their first week of school, and I guess if I had to define the transition, I would say it was going "as well as can be expected". Like most things in our family. Henry's new attitude is helping. He's going outside his comfort level and playing with new friends. His new teacher has rules and expectations and organization. Which, for Henry, is going to be huge. His need for order may or may not have something to do with being raised by a control freak.

Jack is trying something new this year, too. Not shoving all his papers into the bottom of his backpack. So far, he's only tried putting things away neatly once, but, you know, baby steps. By far the biggest transition is at home. We have decided to eliminate tv and video games completely on school days. In previous years, it was allowed, but limited to one hour total screen time each day. Out of boredom, the poor children have been forced to interact with each other, read more books, and go outside.

My comfort level has also been tested. My tendency toward agoraphobia gets pretty severe during the summer months, and going out of the house several times a day to drop off/pick up kids and interact with grown-ups in a way that doesn't bring shame upon our house is always a challenge.

Tomorrow, the girls start kindergarten. They say they are excited, but Grace won't poop and Olivia had her first vomiting migraine yesterday, so obviously they're a little nervous. Today was their orientation/meet n' greet with the teacher, who mentioned that she doesn't have parent helpers until October. I volunteered to stand in the corner and hold the kids' coats or something, and I could tell she was mentally clicking off a "crazy" checkmark for me. Like that would stop me. I scoped out a place in the bushes outside the window where I can hide and spy. That is, before I go home. By myself. Just me and the dog.

Alone.

Oh, and Mitch, don't think I'm going to have any extra time to do the dishes, because I'm going to be bereaved.

Two down, two to go.

For the first (and undoubtably the last) time of the school year, Jack was up early and ready to go without getting yelled at to get out of bed. When he got home, he said he wasn't sure why he had been excited about school, because it was the same old boring stuff, and how was he ever going to get enough sleep? I think it was a good day, though, because he was pretty chatty and happy when he got home. They put him in the wrong math class and he doesn't want me to say anything because the class he's in is super easy and he wants to "coast" this year. Niiiiiiice.
I loved Henry's teacher, but when Hen walked out of school today, he had the Sad Clown Oil Painting face on. Recess wasn't fun, school wasn't fun, his best friends were in other classes. He rated it a "5" out of 10. After he ate something and played quietly in his room awhile, though, he upgraded it to a "7 or 8" and did say he was sure it was going to be better than last year. Which isn't saying much. But! We're working on a new attitude! With exclamation points! And unicorns and ponies!

Fruits of our Labor Day

My oldest and my youngest. Sand gets in her shoes, you know, and luckily her brother can help her out.
These are Henry's potatoes, which he grew and tended. We had Mark, Jess, Lucy, and Sylvie up for the weekend and served these potatoes, which were quite delicious. Would taste very good with, um, a chicken or two in a pot. I'm just sayin'.
The requisite last trip to the ice cream shop in town (that is, before school starts. We'll probably be there again tomorrow for the "first-trip-of-the-new-school-year ice cream"). See that long hair on my seventh grader? It's gone now. His Dad cut it off. I'll post pics soon.
Flying our Dumb Pteranadon Kite. Which doesn't fly very well. Santa? New kites, please. Except for Grace. She wants a pink I-pod and she will "absolutely die" if she doesn't get one. School starts for the boys tomorrow, and the girls start on Friday. I'm totally not okay with it.