Last hockey class tonight. They played a "game," if you can call semi-controlled mayhem a game. No obvious team designations, no one really knew where or who to shoot to -- but at least there was an even number of kids on each "side," two goals, and one puck.
Right before the game, I splurged on some kneepads and gloves for Gabriel, later realizing the gloves are much too small. Hockey gloves on other kids look like mitts. These look like...well, gloves. But he loved them.
My tough cookie....he's so tiny out there, but so competitive and tough. Trouble is, he can't skate. The kid with the white jersey #20 skated circles around him again and again. Gabriel at least finally admitted he can't skate "fast" -- a start, but there's a lot more to hockey skating than just speed.
I had what I thought was an inspired idea when Dave offered to pick up Katrina. How about we all meet at the ice rink and go to Benihana for dinner afterward? Fun, but, it takes a long time. The boys didn't even have all their food until 7:30, by which time Katrina was really winding down. Still, they all loved the chef -- an actual Japanese one, incredibly -- and the food.
First a little running around out front.
They cleverly design the kids menus so they can be rolled into a hat.
Since we didn't plan this outing, we had two cars, and I took Katrina home early and averted any disasters. Gabriel suggested we do this every Tuesday -- with kids' meals alone at $13 a pop, and the great deal of extra time it takes at Benihana, I don't think so! But it was fun as a special treat.
Even though we're both working and not going anywhere interesting or fun, I'm completely enjoying "spring break" !
Dave's home, tired and drained, but glad to have been with Laura through the very worst of this health crisis. She's doing much better, recovering every day, thank goodness, but there will be some rehabilitation before things are back to normal. Even then, with this sort of thing, no one commits to what normalcy we'll get back to.
But since my life can't exist without Laura being completely solidly there for me (because, of course, it's about me), I know she'll be back bopping around with the boys like she was a few months ago. There just can't be any other way.
Busy, rainy day. I slept late, watched cooking shows in bed joined by Katrina, got the kids breakfast. Took them to the Y and Trader Joe's, home, put away groceries, made lunches, dealt with boys being absolutely completely utterly horrible.
So I really had no energy for Katrina shrieking upstairs as I was finishing up in the kitchen. I dropped what I was doing for the 100th time and dragged my feet up the stairs, dreading yet another futile reprimand that if it wasn't ignored was only laughed at.
Then I heard an angelic voice -- or is that angel's voice -- float down: "Don't worry Mommy, I'll help her. She just wants to reach a dress." Julian. And all was quiet upstairs for another 20 minutes.
Then Julian and Katrina came downstairs, holding hands. Julian proudly showed his work, as though he'd designed the outfit himself: "I helped her get dressed, and I even did all the buttons!"
How adorable. Though there were many tough moments today, they were outweighed by many sweet ones. Julian was also very helpful at Trader Joe's, and overall cooperative about cleaning up his room and putting away his laundry -- when Gabriel wasn't around. But I'd rather think about the sweet things than the obnoxious ones.
I'm still not entirely in the single-mom groove, but I'm not complaining: the number one main thing I can do for Laura is to put her brother at her side worry-free during this life-changing event. Fortunately, she's recovering better than expected from such a major surgery, and might even move out of the ICU by Monday. That's terrific news. Meantime, I'm encouraging Dave to stay there as long as she needs.
Kids are amazing. Nothing else so demonstrates how life goes on.
Today that included a T-ball game, despite the blustery, threatening weather. During pre-game practice, it looked like Julian's game would get rained out, but after a brief wait under a breezeway after practice, the coaches decided to play one inning. Then the wind died down and the weather became just chilly, but not unpleasant.
Katrina was high-maintenance during the game -- happy, mostly, aside from one big tantrum, but it was work keeping her happy. Gabriel stayed at home during the game, getting some much-needed downtime, though I was keenly aware of Tonya's warning that age 12 is the minimum legal age to leave children home alone.
I'd told Gabriel we'd be home by 12:30 or so, but we ran some unexpected errands after Julian's game -- including a step into a the timewarp known as Blockbuster Video. This meant that we got home later than I'd said, and Gabriel immediately said, "Why didn't you call?" Fair question. I will next time if I'm so much as 2 minutes later than I thought.
He was quickly appeased with a hero sandwich from Subway, and the promise of a baseball movie after room cleanup. It wasn't raining, but it still wasn't a pleasant afternoon -- just as well, since our landscaping is mid-project and not at all suitable for playing outside. We watched "Bad News Bears" (the original of course), with a few interruptions during impossible noisy Katrina tantrums. Not unexpected after a sleepover last night, but still annoying. I'm amazed how good-natured the boys are about stopping the movie and leaving the TV room so she has no audience for her outrage. I hate that we have to do that, but it's the fastest way to get back to it.
After the movie, I was able to do some cleanup and make dinner with unusual ease. Katrina sure was quiet. It's one of those things that I don't dare check as to the source of the peace, lest I disrupt it, but eventually I do have to check. And sure enough, she'd found something to keep her busy: a pair of scissors and a piece of paper. What was left of it. Five minutes of cleaning up teeny pieces of paper all over the place was quite worth the half an hour's worth of peace.
Today's other big news is Gabriel losing his second upper front tooth. And the Tooth Fairy is fresh out of dollar bills.
Being out of cash was due in part to one of the remarkable things about living in Northern California. It's not uncommon to see a (usually) young man of apparently Hispanic descent standing on a street corner, selling boxes of strawberries. Today we passed one such man on our way into Blockbuster, and Julian right away piped up, "I love strawberries!" But did we really need a box containing 6 of those little green baskets you buy one at a time at the grocery store for $2.99 (in season) ? That's a lot of strawberries.
I asked the guy where they came from and when they'd been picked, and he said he got up early this morning and picked them himself, in Salinas. I admired the way he'd arranged them, with all the strawberry tips pointing in one direction, making for an irresistible presentation. When he said a single box was only $7, I bit, and bought. And used up all my handy small bills in the process.
But what a boon. These strawberries were amazing -- fat, juicy, sweet, even crisp. The boys plowed through the ones I washed and roughly cut (Gabriel's front tooth was so wiggly he couldn't bite into anything) and kept asking for more before I could sit down for lunch myself. They ate almost half the box -- a box labelled "12 dry pints" -- at lunch alone. Katrina had a huge bowlful too. Really, these strawberries, and how greedily the kids consumed them -- are worth these paragraphs. And is one of the things -- like outdoor baseball in April -- that makes living here worth it.
Tonight was Open House at Gabriel and Julian's school. That's the 3rd night in a row we've had something going on in the evening -- with Dave away. We went, it was instructive and fun, but still made for a hectic evening.
With Dave out of town, the boys have to pick up the slack. They're big enough (barely) to bring the garbage and recycling cans in from the curb.
One thing I learned at the open house in Julian's classroom (aside from the fact that Gabriel sometimes joins him in class in the morning....grrr): Julian is quite the creative writer in kindergarten! His teacher (a substitute since his original teacher is on maternity leave) said that she had him read this story aloud for the PM group (Julian is AM), and that they all wrote better stories after hearing his, inspired!
One day a cup came to life. It attacked machines and people. I came to the rescue and attacked the cup, which put the cup back to normal.
I guess this appeals to kindergartners...though the idea of a cup coming to life appeals to me too. Gabriel's teachers also note his "voice" in writing, and my dear nephew Aidan is all about writing stories...now Julian. Could it be that we have a family of writers?
The Open Houses include giving parents a book of the kids' writing work. It was so fun and interesting seeing what Julian wrote about (Gabriel's was more prescribed). He wrote about our ski trip, our trip to Edwards Air Force Base for the airshow, decorating for Halloween...and this: my relating to the boys about my time playing hockey with their cousin Aidan (my very creative nephew). Seeing the video and hearing my stories made quite the impression on Julian, and he wrote about it!
This perhaps isn't as creative, but I love seeing what he thinks about and how he absorbs and relates my stories: (spelling corrected:)
On a beautiful Wednesday my Mom went to New York. She played ice hockey with my cousin. When she was about to hit my cousin hit it out of her way.
Kids are amazing. They force you to stay in the moment. Their antics keep you from fretting every second about life's more serious sides.
Still, I was anxious to get my three reality checks to bed tonight so I could do some necessary fretting. My beloved sister-in-law, Laura, has been in surgery for 10 hours today. Dave just emailed me that it went well and she'll be back in ICU in a few hours. But I can't imagine there's anything routine about brain surgery.
Laura is such a rock in our lives...so alive, so present, so solid, so vital. The idea of her in the hospital, drugged, ill, not completely there to give me her usual insightful, thoughtful and kind insights....unthinkable. My world is rocked. I can't live without her. This isn't about me of course, but it feels like it is, because I just can't bear the idea of her not being there 200%, as always. I need to hear she's OK so I can finally really cry.
Another mad scramble in the evening. Get Julian to T-ball practice (a clinic instead of a game tonight) by 5pm, drop Gabriel off at home so he can work on homework and book report. Then pick up Katrina and hope she doesn't freak at the dogs at the park. It's really becoming an annoying problem; if a dog is within 200 meters she screams and throws a tantrum. Then she talks about the dog constantly and asks about how dogs kiss people -- but she flips out near an actual dog.
Fortunately tonight she was more interested in the actual T-ball playing.
A friend says her daughter often and easily made friends with other waiting little sisters at baseball games, and that made it fun for her. Katrina -- not so much. Another little girl her age did try to engage her, but she's a hard sell. She's not shy, but she holds back and doesn't join into things quickly.
Perhaps moreso than Julian, who was having a great time.
Gabriel was supposed to be working on his book report while we were at the T-ball clinic, but maybe he was playing on the piano instead. He must have been; he hasn't been playing much lately, but somehow has squeaked in some time to practice this composition.
This is based on some pre-programmed blues tune in the piano, but Gabriel says this is of his own making.
Dave's still in L.A; Aunt Laura is having surgery tomorrow morning. I'm not usually a praying person, but this is by far the best time to make the exception.
I wish I had something fun and light to write about, but the truth is, all I can think about is Laura, my sister-in-law. A few weeks ago, she fell in the bathtub and hit her head, and got a concussion....the doctors thought. But then she was having trouble finding words and navigating rooms, so she was admitted into the hospital again, where she was diagnosed with Moyamoya Syndrome. The speculation is now that she fell in the bathtub because of a small stroke. Today Dave called me and said she was a little worse, so I told him to just go down to L.A. to see her. He flew straight away and is there now.
The syndrome is treatable with surgery and as far as we know, the prognosis is good, but it's a scary and upsetting time. Dear, sweet Laura...I couldn't have dreamed of a more wonderful sister-in-law and friend. I wish I could go see her too, but I'm telling myself that there's no urgency because she's going to be just fine.
Gabriel has yet another book report due, this time on poetry.
I thought this would be a real pain, until my most excellent Mom friends suggested Shel Silverstein as a very kid-friendly poet. Maybe this won't be so bad after all!
Naturally, every other 2nd-grader had the same idea -- the library was wiped out of Shel Silverstein. But the most excellent librarian suggested a Jack Prelutzky book, "Something BIG has been here," instead. I knew it was the right one when I couldn't get Gabriel to lift his head from it, and he was laughing aloud.
Tonight I told him to read 6 poems in the poetry book for his nightly reading, and again, I heard him laughing aloud reading it. "Fred gets out of bed and puts his underwear on his head" is irresistable, it seems.
So during dinner, the usual boy-banter turned to, of all things, poetry. And out of nowhere, Gabriel rattled off a goofy set of rhymes that had him and Julian in peals of laughter. He excused himself quickly from dinner to go write it down.
And that's when I heard myself say the unthinkable:
"Stop working on the poem and go do your homework."
The absurdity was palpable. Stop working on a creative pursuit that you're excited about and that avoided the normal dinnertime foul-mouthedness, and go work on repetitive drudgery that does little to advance your education.
"Stop working on your poem and do your homework."
Homework is a fact of life in our world, and it has to be prioritized, so I have to go through the motions of insisting he work on it. But I hate it when schoolwork stifles actual learning and creativity. Gabriel insisted on writing down his poem before starting his homework. For once, I didn't get too mad at being ignored.
The Light Bulb Caught Some Fire
The light bulb caught some fire, Of course it gave off smoke, The smoke detector started beeping, And also began to choke.
Weird things began to happen, Like the place mats rolled up like crazy. The basket fell off the shelf, And in my lunch box there was a daisy.
I don't care at all about quality of the prose or his future as a poet -- seeing the bright excited look in his eyes, his face lit with humor, his characteristic determination and enthusiasm, told me this is how school should be for him.
Yet he got in trouble numerous times at school today for rude and disruptive behavior, such as loud burping during someone's presentation. After school, he worked on his schematic for a radio-controlled car IC (integrated circuit).
This person has so much ability, so much potential, so much power -- yet I'm getting worried that school is losing him.
Quick one here....a very very pleasant Easter Brunch at a friend's house, despite rain keeping 7 kids indoors in a small house. We even managed an egg hunt without too much trouble, and then plowing through all the candy and cookies in the eggs kept the kids busy.
It occurred to me today that we still haven't done the whole Easter Basket thing. It seemed silly when they were babies, but now they're old enough to miss it....but they don't. It just doesn't come up. They might well look back on that someday as one of our great lamenesses as parents, but then, there's just so much to choose from it might not stand out.
It must be Easter Weekend, because the Big Bunny Fun Run 5K was today! Dave took Julian and Katrina to Julian's T-ball game, while Gabriel and I ran in the race.
First, a little yoga stretching.
At the start -- on your mark! I recognized a woman from the Y and struck up a conversation, since she was running with her 8-year-old 3rd-grader too (the girl on my left). The woman is a phenomenal athlete, but she said she wasn't really running the race, she was going to stick with her daughter. She was floored when I told her that not only did I have no intention of sticking with Gabriel, but last year, I had no choice! He left me in the dust and I met him at the finish.
(I don't know, am I really that more lax than other parents? I got the same sort of great surprise from many parents in Julian's class when I did a drop-off for him at a birthday party, like they'd never heard of such a thing. But I really didn't see much risk in an 8-year-old following along in a large group of people on a well-marked route, and people with orange vests at every turn to point people in the right direction.)
The Big Bunny blew the airhorn, and we were underway. I sprinted to get ahead of Gabriel to get a few action shots.
He was ahead of me for the first half, but then I got ahead of him. I wasn't surprised; he hasn't been running in Running Club this year, though that didn't reduce his determination at all. I tried to follow along some preteen girls too, and realized that it's not that easy to run with kids -- they don't keep a steady pace. During the few minutes I ran alongside Gabriel, he'd speed up and slow down again and again, and it wasn't comfortable for me.
Not that I was very fast. I saw the hind end of many in the 60-69 age group, and spent much of the race trying to match the pace of a man in the 70+ group. I finally caught him toward the end.
Still, I finished in plenty of time to set up for a finish-line shot of Gabriel, which unfortunately happened to be when he blinked.
He finished strong, though he was limping around for about half an hour afterward.
Mercifully, this year they did the awards announcements right away after the race, and did the youngest age groups first (as compared to last year when we had to endure 45 minutes of a raffle first, and they did the youngest age groups last).
I wasn't expecting Gabriel to get a trophy this year, but when I heard them announce 31 minutes for the 3rd-place finisher in his age group, I realized, "Holy cow, he's placed!" I dropped everything to search for my camera and got it just in time to hear: "....and in first place, with a time of 27:02, Gabriel Duh ... er, ... Dood-na!"
He took First Place in his division, and beat his time last year handily too. I guess youth trumps conditioning! Good for him! I was really proud and happy for him. But he was sober -- he'd been looking forward to "beating the pants off you, Mom," and that, he didn't do.
Just for fun, we stuck around to hear the finishing times for my age group. Forget it; the 3rd place finishers in 40-49, 50-59, and even 60-69 all completely beat my time, which I believe was just under 27 minutes based on Gabriel's time. In my age group, the 3rd-placer was in the 22-minute range, something I'll never see. But if I have any strength in running, it's not speed -- I was starting to pass people toward the end, but in a 5K that's not enough time to catch up. If I want to be competitive, I'll do better in longer races with hills. And I have to want to be competitive, which I really don't.
Next year, Gabriel's age division will be 9-12, where the competition is much stiffer. But he'll have a good shot at beating his old Mom.
As we enter my 3rd month of full-time work, the adjustment continues. Though it seems 10 times harder to do anything outside the bare minimum, in some ways I feel more determined to do those things. Our lives can't become just about work, even if having lives outside of work takes even more planning and compromising and energy.
So when our longtime friends Sean and Louise were in town and suggested we get together, I knew I wanted to have them over in our new house and make a nice dinner. That's why we did the remodel, or a huge reason for it -- it was so difficult to make dinner and have guests before. It's crazy to think we wouldn't do it now because of not knowing how to make all the logistics work. And it wasn't clear right away how it would work, but with a little planning, a little compromising, a lot of flexibility, a conveniently timed day off of work (for Dave), and really relaxed friends, it turned out to be pretty doable.
Big bonus: other grownups in the house really disrupts the kids' routine too -- amazingly, they were all really good. Unusually calm and agreeable, in fact. It was remarkable. It helped that Louise made a point of entertaining them while I was making dinner, permanently earning herself a place in their hearts.
So, we had a nice grownup dinner and grownup talk and a nice grownup visit, and it was completely worthwhile. Even more worthwhile, perhaps, because having grownups over is more of an event now than it used to be. Good. I like an eventful life.
When I was picking the boys up from the CDC today, I was briefly chatting with a longtime CDC staffer who's just announced he's leaving. I could see the boys as they were supposed to be gathering their things, and then noticed Julian standing and crying. Then I saw Gabriel laughing with three friends.
Turns out, Gabriel had whirled his jacket around and the zipper had smacked Julian right in the back. There was a nasty welt and swollen spot where impact had occurred. To make matters worse, Gabriel was laughing.
Other kids calm down very quickly and listen with fascination when another kid is being scolded. I was moderately stern with Gabriel while his friends stood staring wide-eyed -- not nearly representing how furious I was with him. I informed him he was spending the whole evening at home in his room. I've told them all many many many times not to swing jackets around; the zippers can really hurt.
Gabriel told me later he was laughing because he thought the welt on Julian's back was in the shape of an 'e'. As if that made it any better. I was so angry at him I just didn't even want to be around him. Then I get upset at that too: I want so so much to be near him and talk to him in our precious short evening time together, in the precious short few years we have left together -- why does he do these awful things that poisons our time together?
Increasingly, the working-parent guilt creeps in. I think Gabriel needs more home downtime. He needs great projects he can sink himself into, to dive into, to be in his favorite and best mode. He's always been great at self-entertaining, but the bar is higher now that he's older. And in fact, his life at the CDC after school prevents him from exercising that self-entertainment, because he has no quiet time alone to just....do. Left to his own devices, Gabriel spends hours working on something, happily humming away to himself. There's just not enough of that in his life.
Meantime, I'm slowly settling into work. As I expected, the learning is the best pull there...I'm loving learning about new technology. Every day, something comes up in which I have to go scour a dense technical specification to go find a tiny fact. That's really great. I'd thought that part of my life was over, but it's still very much a part of me. I like learning, I really like my coworkers, I love my immediate manager, my confidence is being restored every day.
And I like being around men again -- the mom world is dominated by women, which I also loved, but so much of my adult life has been spent primarily around men that when the only man I had a meaningful conversation with for weeks was Dave, I felt something was missing. It's a different style of conversation, but one I'd grown to know well from years and years of working and riding motorcycles around almost all men. There are plenty of women to chat with at work too too, but the atmosphere is male-dominated, and that's a comfort zone for me.
Still, much is expected of an engineer of my level -- can I do that and still be a good mother to my slightly-unusual firstborn son? He needs so little from me on the surface, but what he does need, he needs intensely. Nowadays we don't have the luxury of shrugging our shoulders like parents of yore and saying "well that's life." Just because he's bored doesn't mean he can physically abuse Julian and laugh, of course. But what can I do -- what should I do?
Last day of March...usually I welcome this milestone toward summer, but having had one of the best trips we've ever had as a family this month, I hate to say goodbye to it. Has one fun weekend turned me from a summer-water person into a winter-snow person? Doubtful, but I have a new reason to look forward to January next year.
Coffee and chatter tonight with Mom friends -- feels good to be back in the real world. And to think, for so many years I referred to work as the "real world." It's such a no-brainer which world -- and they truly are worlds apart -- is real.
Whew! When I signed Julian for T-ball, it was a calculated risk that T-ball would overlap Gabriel's hockey. Overall my gamble worked: only one night would there be a conflict. And tonight was the night.
So, I picked the boys up, zoomed Julian over to T-ball practice at 5pm, then zoomed Gabriel to hockey, where he got on the ice at 5:18pm. Hockey takes so much longer to suit up for, parking is worse, it takes longer to find a spot to suit up, and the pitiful minimal gear we have is harder to deal with (snapping on the helmet is a pain!).
Then I zoomed again to go get Katrina, while Dave joined Julian at his game, and took him home when it was over.
Crazy as it was, I made two observations. One is that Katrina is completely engaged during the hockey lesson. She loves watching it, even though she has to stand on a bench and look through some plexiglass to see. And it's cold and noisy and poorly lit, but, she loves it. She's much harder to entertain at T-ball.
The other is, again, despite the inconveniences, how much I like watching hockey and skating, and how awed I am by the toughness of my little firstborn son. The warmup exercise involved the entire class -- over 25 kids, most bigger and almost all better skaters than Gabriel -- chasing a single puck. I thought this was sort of silly really, they have plenty of pucks, couldn't they have tossed a few more on? But despite this swarm, relatively tiny Gabriel isn't the slightest bit intimidated, and fights hard to get to the front of the pack and actually got his stick on the puck a few times. He's getting good enough at stickhandling that now his skating is holding him back; he really needs to improve his hockey skating. Unfortunately, his confidence means he thinks he can skate well, even when an even smaller 5-year-old boy whizzed past him.
Still, I look at my burgeoning son out there and feel like this is what makes it all worth it. Logistics were hectic tonight, but just look at how strong and sure he is, how he's growing, being challenged, exercising his character. That is by far the most important job I have in my life. Developing these remarkable beings, these silly children is more than worth leaving work early, it's essential. Besides, I think I need it more than they do.
Whew....just went through the most grodious process of signing up for daycamps. At the Y, this is not trivial -- the stupid form makes you write the parents' names, addresses, all phone numbers and even birthday TWICE.
I wasn't very creative this year and didn't even really consult the boys beyond "so, do you want to do ice skating?" There are many other options, but frankly it's way way easier for us for them to do camps in the same week. I also signed them both up for a swim camp, without consulting them. One week won't turn them into swimmers, but it goes a drop toward preventing them from being drowners.
It's astoundingly expensive too. One week of a relatively inexpensive daycamp costs between $500 and $600 total for both boys. We pay that much for an entire month during the school year for each one. Suddenly Katrina's "camp" at TLC will seem cheap! I'd love to do a daycamp for her -- she's old enough for the Y's "pee wee" camps that Julian loved so much -- but they're only half-day, and I just can't afford the time off of work.
I used to think "dang, a ski trip would cost as much as a summer of daycamps." Now I think, "dang, a summer of daycamps costs as much as a ski trip!" So funny that I'm dreaming of snow instead of sand for next winter. My mother remembers having to drag me out of the water blue and shivering; but easily bailing out of ski lessons for being too cold. I've been a water person through and through since day one, and that's not going away...but I sure am enjoying the thoughts of adding snow to that repertoire.
Actually, though I grew up with snow and know it well, California snow, altitude, snowpack depths unheard of in the east, warm days are all very new. I love living so close to the ocean, but these days all I can think about is getting back into the mountains. If we can afford it after the staggering bill for summer daycamps that is!
It's funny...as my life migrates more and more away from the baby-toddler-young-kid world, especially with full-time work, I'm reminded that that world still exists strongly, and indeed IS the world of many other families, just as it was for ours. I made some wonderful, lifetime friends that way, and probably will continue to, but park playgroups are just not part of my daily life anymore. I'm not sure how that happened.
So when I realized I almost missed a weekend Easter party, I signed me and Katrina up right away. What used to be a regular thing for me (and Katrina) has now become a rare, and special, treat!
At the last minute, I decided to take Julian too, with reservations. There would be other siblings his age there, separating the boys is always a good thing, and Dave wanted to go on a motorcycle ride. Bringing Julian meant that if I was running late, he could leave Gabriel alone for a while before I got home. Leaving the boys alone together -- unthinkable. But just Gabriel? Probably illegal, but, no problem.
At first, Katrina and Julian only played together, wrestling around while all the other kids worked at a craft table, decorating Easter baskets (what a great idea!). Eventually I got Julian to participate, but Katrina would have nothing of it. While the whole rest of the party glued and drew and decorated, she played by herself on a couch. I haven't been with her in groups of kids for a while; I'd forgotten she's like this. No surprise really; she's never been a joiner.
She was also the only kid to refuse to play "Pin The Tail On The Easter Bunny" too. Julian was into it though.
She participated in the egg hunt at least, and even stuck to the 12-egg limit, asking me several times how many eggs she had in her basket, and listening when I told her, "only 2 more!"
No photos though. At least Sonia got some of her and me together later.
As always, it was so nice chatting with mom friends and seeing all these wonderful kids together. This was a lifeline for me with the first one, and now something I enjoy and miss with the third.
Dave was away riding all afternoon (good for him! I was so glad for him, he doesn't do it enough!), so I had to grocery-shop with all three. This is a pain, mostly because Gabriel is increasingly resistant and obnoxious about it. I finally made him stand by the door while we finished shopping, as his boredom had turned to pestering Katrina and she was screeching. His attitude improved a lot when it came time to hand around balloons. I took the boys' balloons away at home until they'd taken care of their laundry though. I don't fold or put away any of their laundry anymore -- they do. But there's little work savings there; it's much more effort to get them to do it. Despite the effort, they're both pretty good at putting their clothes away though! Katrina can easily "fold" her laundry too, but getting her to tackle a whole basket every week is more work than I can handle right now.
I didn't write yesterday, but we had another fun T-ball practice and game on Saturday afternoon. Well, Julian did anyway; Katrina and Gabriel played nearby with varying degrees of tolerance. A friend says her daughter made friends with other younger sisters right away and had a great time playing together, but, not Katrina. She's always on the periphery, looking inside from out, not shy, but not social either. There was another little girl her age sitting right near us, but she had no interest. I did see Katrina attempting to engage another boy who'd wandered away from the field, but that was about it. Dave took her to a playground for part of it, and I played catch with her, and also Gabriel, a little, mostly so I could watch Julian's game between throws.
Despite the sibling distractions, I am so surprised at how much I love being a sports-mom. I thought I'd barely tolerate it, but really, I look forward to the game (and moreso, the practice) hours before, and love watching the kids interact and learn. Maybe I won't like it as much when it's more for real -- like when they keep score and people start taking it seriously, but for now, being a sports-mom is a blast.
Katrina is very upset about the "racetrack" in our backyard being gone -- that is, the short walkway that she used to ride her bike on, stop, get off the bike, turn it around, then ride back about 10 seconds, and repeat. For an hour at a time, sometimes.
It's more than the "racetrack" that's gone -- it's the whole yard. I can't let them back there at all right now. Especially not with the terrifying Ditch Witch standing guard.
So they were all pretty psyched when we got home today and found part of a new walkway in the front yard.
This quickly became a "racetrack" too.
No one is more psyched about the new front walkway than I am though. I'm no artiste or design-person, but curves do draw the eye. I can't wait for our little mini-park, and all its racetracks, to be done.
I got called out of work today for a tummy-ache of Julian's, so I brought my laptop home and continued working here once he was settled in. Turns out, it was so quiet that I got a ton done, and worked harder than I would for a whole week put together! I think that's a good thing....not sure though.
Gabriel's teachers sent a long email today informing us of his numerous transgressions, again. He's been difficult at home lately too, as only Gabriel can be. His teachers surmise he's looking for attention. While that's never been his overt style, I can't help but to wonder if what he needs the most is hours at home after school to focus on his electronics projects, humming happily away to himself.
I was SO disappointed about having to miss Julian's T-ball game today!
Are we going to continue this? Gabriel seems to really like it, despite being sorely underequipped and outnumbered. He really wants to play games, but doesn't accept that maybe he needs to learn a little more about hockey basics first. Like, you know, skating.
Today the lesson included a puck.
And three coaches, finally. This permitted some necessary individual instruction.
It helps to have your own cheering section!
As he approaches the boards closest to where the camera is, you can hear a little voice from behind, "Hi Gabriel!" He was really struggling with this exercise.
Tomorrow is Julian's first weekday T-ball practice and game. I thought I'd dread this sports-mom-taxiing, but really, it's the highlight of my day.
Julian's homework folder, Friday folder, and now his signed report card, keep coming back home again in his knapsack. He's supposed to turn them in, but I guess the teachers don't insist or ask, because some weeks his homework never makes it in at all.
Via Friday Folder comments, and then email, we asked what's going on, and the answer is that the kids are supposed to put these folders in a basket on the right day, themselves. The idea is to encourage independence and responsibility. But are we the only ones whose 6-year-old forgets to be responsible? Apparently we are! All the others kids' homework gets turned in, and Friday Folders returned on Monday.
How can that be? I have to confirm this, but Julian is in a tiny minority of kindergartners who gets dropped off on a city block right near the school and walks to class himself. Most of the others are seen to the door by parents or grandparents. Is it possible that he's the only one who's not getting reminded at the classroom door, because he's the only one who goes to his class alone? So much for teaching independence!
I'm not sure...there are a few CDC kids who don't get that parental reminder (or parents putting the folders into the baskets themselves), and there must be other kindergartners who go to class themselves. The only thing we're sure of is that our otherwise studious son is the only one who so consistently doesn't turn his work in.
But we sure learned a lot about sharks and whales from him yesterday!
Saturday was Little League Opening Day. If I'd known what ceremony, pomp, circumstance, tradition and sentiment went with it, I'd have worn an evening gown. Then again, I should have guessed as much from movies -- no chick flicks are sappier than baseball movies.
Julian and I were at the park from 8:30 to 12:30, joined briefly by the rest of the family to witness the end of Julian's game. First were photos: individual slugger photos, then a team photo. Julian's team was the only one for whom the majority were wearing jeans. I learned that 3 of the 10 players are from Israeli families -- recent enough immigrants that one of his teammates tried to talk to me in Hebrew.
Then came their first T-ball game. It's sort of silly at first glance: no score is kept, everyone bats, everyone runs around the bases, everyone scores, field positions are rotated and everyone gets a turn. Is this really a game, or just a way to keep a 6-year-old busy on a Saturday afternoon?
Nevertheless, Julian and his teammates were all over it. Julian started off in the pitcher "position," who ends up doing all the fielding because it seems beginning T-ballers pretty much all hit the same direction and distance. Julian and subsequent pitcher-fielders got the idea quickly that they had to get the ball and throw it to first base. No decisions, no plays, no outs. Silly, right?
Mostly in the fielding stance taught by our really excellent (I think) coach.
Julian (#7) throwing to the absent first base-kid while the opposing Giants batter runs to first base.
This is pretty much how every play goes. Julian is #7.
A few minutes of batting coaching before the game made a tremendous difference. This is the first time Julian, and every teammate and opponent, has ever been up to bat with all other teammates and opponents and parents watching.
T-ballers all round all the bases. Most have to be directed to actually touch the base.
The "outfielders" don't have much to do though, and when Julian wasn't in the pitcher position, he spent half his time lying down, or throwing his hat and glove on the ground.
More Bad News Bears than Field of Dreams, but the comicalness only added to the fun.
I missed the photo, but I was glad to see that the teams line up and shake hands after the game. To me, teaching them sportsmanship is very very important.
After the game, the kids lined up for the opening ceremonies. (Many games were scheduled throughout the day; Julian's just happened to be before.) Starting with the oldest teams, each team ran around the infield while being introduced, then settled in groups on the perimeter.
The T-ballers ran last, then settled on the inside of the infield -- a special spot.
From there, the usual introductions and thank-yous were said. A dressed-up girl who's listened to way too much Mariah Carey sang the National Anthem. The Little League Pledge was stated by about 10 players -- it starts with, "I trust in God..." The girl came back and sang "Take me out to the Ball Game." Then the First Pitch was made from the youngest player to the oldest one.
It was so sappy I couldn't decide if I should barf or cry. Truth is, it left a lump in my throat against my will.
But I was struck by how seriously the T-ballers were taken, even though their actual game seemed like little more than a party activity. When the T-ballers ran around the infield before settling into their place of honor, they got a high-five from every older player on the perimeter. The Sunnyvale league president said that 8 T-ball teams meant a bright future for their league, and spoke about the importance of cultivating younger players.
So even though the game appeared trite because of how much of real baseball is removed from it, the kids really learned a lot. Most have no idea how baseball goes; even the concept of an "inning" is lost on them. Now they understand switching teams, fielding, throwing to get a batter "out," running bases. I know from friends' teams that this is very necessary initiation -- in two years, they will all be seasoned players who know how the game goes, and will be ready to play seriously. It's really a very very nice introduction -- no pressure, but still learning the basic structure of the game and teamwork and sportsmanship. That's not silly at all.
To my surprise, I loved it. I thought I'd hate being a "sports mom," but it turns out, I like being there and as involved as I can be, chatting with the other parents. I ran into two moms I already knew from Las Madres, in fact. I'm so impressed with the commitment and competence of our Dad coaches, and I love watching the kids improve minute-by-minute. I'll take this over sitting in a playground watching a toddler go down a slide anyday. And I think this is far cuter than a 3-year-old princess party. I just love it.
Oh yeah, and I think Julian loved it too! But first and foremost he asked in a wondrous voice: "Did you see that beautiful girl?" -- meaning the Mariah-Carey wannabe. He was very taken by her.
That afternoon, another first event: Dave's been putting the idea of a "two-wheeler" in Katrina's head, and for some reason, today, she claimed she was willing to try. We both expected she'd refuse as soon as she got on it, but she was willing to try. After about 15 minutes, she did give up and then spent a lot of time in what's left of our backyard riding the scooter. But she got the idea! She has Gabriel's stubbornness and some of his persistence, but without his toughness. Still, she's always liked bicycles and seems to be very very interested in learning to ride a two-wheeler -- as long as the conditions are exactly to her liking that is.
Isn't it interesting that since I've a full-time job, I've turned into a baseball mom, a hockey mom, and taken the family skiing. Seems I really do work better under pressure.
