You'd better be good for goodness sake

Henry no longer believes in Santa. The past few weeks, he's brought it up several times, questioning the logistics of such a far-fetched story. I didn't want his doubts to creep into the girls' imaginations, so I sent Mitch to have the talk with Henry last night. Mitch is way better at stuff like that, because I'm all, "boohooI'mlosingmybabygoodbyechildhoodblahblahblah". They were in Henry's room for quite some time talking about the "magic of Santa" vs. the reality, and keeping the magic alive for the girls. After it was over, Henry came and snuggled under my arm with a grin on his face.

"I feel so much better, now," he said. "I didn't like the idea of Santa spying on me all the time".

Grrrrrrrrreat.

Nine

Henry turned nine yesterday. Usually in these birthday posts, I add photos of the kids when they were little, but I couldn't find any of Henry that didn't have a bruise, stitches, broken limb, or giant bandage, and it made me look like a bad mom, so here's Henry at 9. Oh, look! He's holding the Swiss Army Knife we got him for his birthday. It seems some people never learn.

Birthday pie with a pipe cleaner crown made by Grace, with the words "YADHTRIB YPPAH" spelled out. Mitch and I took him out of school for lunch at the local pizza place, and you can see by the look on his face that the pizza was absolutely delicious.

He still lets me hug and kiss him in front of his friends. He's funny and sensitive and is delighted when others misbehave. He still doesn't like sleepovers or boxed mac n' cheese or chickens. He loves eggs, Chipotle Tobasco sauce, homemade mac n'cheese, homemade pizza, and steel cut oatmeal.

Woo hoo! Secret club. Be on the lookout for naked pics coming soon! Or not. Whatever. Riveted, yet?

Countdown

Getting ready to go march in the Coupeville Halloween Parade.

How hilarious is my little Sad Clown Oil Painting boy? Here he is a few days after recovering from the probable Swine Flu. Can you guess his costume? No? He's Rambozo, duh.

Below is my beautiful little vampire. She's hundreds of years old, but forever stuck in a child's body. How do you like what we've done with the front yard?

And finally, Little Red Riding Hood and The Big Bad Sucker Wolf:

Jack and I aren't dressed up. Jack's way too cool for that kind of tomfoolery now, and I had no time to get a costume together after two weeks taking care of sick kids. We're having a little Halloween shindig tonight, and my costumes of Clorox Wipes or Purell didn't come together in time, so I'll probably be a lame-ass witch (insert hi-larious joke here about how I won't need a costume at all).

Milestones

My boy is on the verge of turning 9. Which, to me is no longer a little boy. Soon, he'll start talking back and wanting privacy, but for now he's still 8, and still kisses and hugs me goodbye in front of his classroom. And when I settle down in a chair and yell out, "I'm open for a snuggle!", he's usually the first to come running (the girls come running a little later, if they're not too busy playing Polly Pockets, and Jack usually just snorts like I've just told a joke). On school days, I don't allow tv or video games, so Henry is learning to knit, and he's getting really good at it. Pants apparently aren't required to make a scarf.

My youngest baby lost her first tooth. This is our last "first tooth". Excuse me, I need to go console myself with a piece of Halloween candy now.

Nov. 1 will be the last day before I make the blog private. Nothing happened, the kids are just not wanting me to put everything out there any more*, and there's so much I want to post about (for me, the blog is more a journal than anything else). This way, I can post what I want. I'm hoping to write more often. Thanks for sending me your email addresses.

*Except for Grace. She wants own blog and her name in lights.

It's the end of the blog as we know it, and I feel fine

I'm quitting publishing this blog publicly. I will probably update now and then, so if you would like to continue to check in, please leave me a message with your email address so you can access. It's been fun!

Toodles...

Edit: Send your email address to: coupevillechronicles@yahoo.com (I will keep it private) if you want to continue to access Coupeville Chronicles. Thanks.

Fancy

I was never one to go for ostentatious accoutrements when it comes to home decorating. Once, while driving through a little town near the Grand Coulee dam, I saw a trailer that had some giant stone lions such as these outside the front door. I giggled about it all day. I couldn't tell if it was ironic or sincere, but I didn't really want to know, either.


Anyway, I hope you like our version of lions guarding the entry:

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Hello? Is this thing on? Now that I have all this free time you would think I would pay more attention to you, internet, but I've been ignoring you. I'm jerky that way. So. We're all still alive here in our little corner of the world. Everybody's been adjusting to their new schedules pretty well. Jack is, anyway. He slipped into his school suit like he had just been wearing it yesterday, leaving important notes in the bottom of his backpack, spending the afternoons fiddling with his ipod doing his homework, and generally being pretty cheerful (you know, for a teenager). This year he is taking a math class over in the high school. With high school students. Some of them are even old enough to vote and buy cigarettes. Not that I've thought about that or anything. He's also begun selling eggs to neighbors and whatnot, but he doesn't have a big customer base yet, so this weekend he's going to try pimping out his cute sisters and sending them around town with a wagon full of eggs. He's promised them riches beyond their wildest dreams, or enough money to buy a Polly Pocket if they sell all the eggs.

Henry is happy with his teacher this year, plus he has buddies in his class. He spends most of his afternoons reading as kind of a defense against the onslaught of stimulation that being in a class with 28 kids all day brings. He even had hot lunch once, but there was bacon, and I think bacon is the only thing that could get him to eat school food. I went and ate lunch with him this week. I noticed he set his lunch box right in front of his face so he couldn't see across the table. Then, a bunch of third grade boys began slurping bbq sauce off their trays with straws. "Now you know why I eat with my lunch box in front of my face", he explained.

Grace is adjusting as well as Jack. She's making friends, happy, and excited to go to school. Last night we had an Open House/Ice Cream Social to meet their teachers and she was ticked off at me because I wouldn't let her bring an extra pair of shoes to change into. "I have to wear my fancy jewelled shoes because they go with my jewel dress, but I might want to play on the playground, so I'll need to bring my mary janes so I can run." Seriously. Those words left her mouth. I don't know where she gets it.

Olivia is having a bit of a hard time. Wearing shoes and clothes all day and also being nice is taking a toll. By the time we've driven the two miles home, she's ripped her ponytail out and taken her shoes. She's usually in her pjs before the others have even unpacked their backpacks. It's funny, because she's the boss around here, generally always gets her way because everyone is afraid of her (except me), but at school she is the opposite. Very shy and reserved, and relies heavily on Grace to navigate the social waters for her. Unlike Henry, they love hot lunch AND riding the bus.

I too, am slowly starting to adjust. I spend most of last week pretty wrecked, and am slightly ashamed to say I took the dog for lots of walks on the trail that goes past the playground so I could spy. Mostly, I miss their noise. I'm keeping busy, though, getting closets organized and getting rid of stuff. Blahblahblah. Whatever.

Seamus-the-long-suffering-dog has it the worst, though. Not only does he miss the kids and whines at the window all day, we've decided to let the kittens come live in the house. They got spayed/neutered and their shots, and now they're inside telling him what's what. It's just a trial period, though. One pee or poop inside or one paw on my kitchen counter and it's back to the garage...No, I'm serious. Really. I'm tough. You don't want to mess with me, even if you do have dumb kitten faces.

Busy

8:50 am Kate drops kids off at school.

8:51 Kate takes dog for four mile walk. Dog pees 26 times.

9:55 Kate cleans kitchen

10:20 Kate looks at shoes online

10:26 am

*twiddles thumbs*

School!

First day picture, and I even had my act together enough to get Jack in on the photo this year, despite the ungodly hour he leaves for school. They picked out their own clothes, and I was shocked to see Olivia come down the stairs in a skirt. Since she's basically spent the last three months in underwear and a tank top (or shorts on special occasions), I almost didn't recognize her. I wept when I walked into their room (that I had just helped them clean yesterday), however. I think Grace tried on every outfit she's owned since we moved in here, and tossed it on the floor. You may notice that Olivia isn't wearing shoes in this picture. I'm not sure how the teacher is going to get her to keep her shoes on during the day. I don't know how I gave birth to a child who hates shoes. Jack installed his contact lenses in record time, and the morning went rather smoothly, despite my last minute flurry of internet shopping to calm my nerves (free shipping at l'occitane!).

Mitch got Henry settled in his portable classroom while I helped the girls. His report: four boys have pierced ears in his class, and he really liked his teacher.

Olivia did not approve the picture I took of her sitting at her desk, but here's Grace, who never turns down a chance to be in the spotlight. The girls are in the same class, but are seated boy-girl, which pleases Grace. Olivia could care less who she sits by, as long as they don't touch her or her stuff.

The end of the day. I haven't heard much yet about how it went. The only words out of Olivia's mouth so far have been, "TV. Food." Grace did tell me that Olivia told the teacher that her feet were too itchy, and does she HAVE to wear shoes? They seem happy and tired.

Good morning, sunshine!

This is a typical morning at our house. Henry and Grace chat and like big, hot breakfasts. Olivia needs sugar and solitude, so she builds a little wall around herself with her sugar-laden products. I don't stress about her sugar intake, because she is the healthiest eater I have, aside from that first morning rush. Where's Jack? He usually stumbles downstairs when the others are having lunch.

We're trying to cram as much outdoor activity in as we can, with the rainy season around the corner. Aside from no Target or Costco or good ethnic food, living here definitely has it's advantages. A few days ago we hit this trail on the south end of the island. The kids had a blast, and no one complained of the long hike.

Only 11 days until school starts. I'm going to keep myself from moping next week by planning lots of outings and activities. And chores. Lots and lots of chores, so the little angels will be happy to go back to school.

The Dancing Ottoman Queen

Feel the beat from the TRAMPOLIIIINE!!!!!

Henry and Steve the Pretty Good

Henry volunteers at the Fair.

And the livin' is easy

We've been very busy doing important stuff this summer. This is the Riverfront Park Carousel in beautiful Spokane. As you can see, the girls hated it. They quickly discovered that a metal slide in 100 degree weather isn't as fun as it looks.

We also picked Jack up from camp. I'm glad he wears glasses, because it was the only way I could find him in the sea of filthy children. You can guess how he smells by the look on Henry's face. He said he ran out of clothes on the third day because he kept jumping in the lake in his clean clothes. Also. One shower. All week. And I had to drive home with him and the dog in the front seat for seven hours.

Picking huckleberries at the lake.

Another new development in the family: piercings!

Grace has been wanting to get her ears pierced for a long time, but every time we go to the piercing place, she changes her mind. Nana tried to convince her to do it by calling her a chicken. This pissed Henry off so much that he took his own money and convinced his dad (not easy) that he should be allowed to do it, and damn if he didn't get his ear pierced. Nobody puts baby in a corner or calls Grace a chicken. Apparently.

And the next day:

She didn't even flinch, either.


Next up, the Island County Fair:

Yep, we let them go on the death-traps they call rides this year, but my heart (and wallet) could only take a few rides before I put a stop to it.

We had five chickens in the fair and got four blue and one red ribbon. Jack did very well in his first show, getting first runner up. You can see how excited he is.

We've been doing other stuff, too, like swimming lessons. Grace and Olivia started out in the same class but by the time it was over, Olivia passed Henry. Grace may or may not have been hampered by the fact that when they told her to do the "crawl", she actually crawled like a baby in the water. Also, during water safety day they were teaching the kids to throw a towel to someone who was "drowning" and pull them to safety. Grace just threw the guy the towel.

Priest Lake

I know I've been absent. Very busy doing important stuff like this. Will probably be back soon, or later. Whatever. Don't wait up.

"Jack, how'd you get to be so handsome?" I teased, when he was giving me a full-braces cheesy smile.

"It's not genetics. Good looks aren't even common in my family."

Thirteen

He would tell complete strangers that his parents didn't love him because they wouldn't give him a baby brother. We showed him, I guess.

Back in the day, he prefered a very clean cut look. He could eat an entire bowl of rice at 12 months old without spilling a single grain.

Henry taught him about getting messy. To this day, he still doesn't enjoy it.

A city street in the background, which is how he prefers it (and continuously reminds us that country life isn't for him). And his music should be from this century, thank-you-very-much.

He's the funniest person I know.

Home, matey

My boy is home from his ultra-long sailing adventure. He was roughing it around the waters of Vancouver Island in Canada. Apparently, there was also a fair amount of barfing on his part. Because he's my kid, and we don't consider any trip complete without a fair amount of vomiting involved. That's just how we roll. Thankfully, Dylan's (his buddy lying in the above photo) dad didn't send me this shot until Jack was safely home in my arms:

The rest of the kids had a pretty tough time missing their brother. For one thing, he's the only one who knows how to operate the Wii or the DVD player (that's my story and I'm sticking to it), but they really did miss him. Grace went so far as to adopt a "baby Jack" and she would set it up in his place at mealtimes.

Seamus was most aggrieved. He woke us up during the night with his whining for his boy. Olivia did her best to comfort him.

Alas:

My boy is back tomorrow, finally. Gone too long.