Seven

This is what the last day of six years old looks like. Tomorrow she's seven.

Warning: Poop Talk (TMI)

Libby: "There was no toilet paper in the bathroom at school today.  I like the kind of poops where it just comes out hard and there is nothing left behind."

Amen sister.  Can I get a Hallelujah?

Also, Libby is about to turn seven.  I just reread this and realized poop talk, like a lot of things, becomes less cute the older they get.

Oy.  Seven years.

Peytie-isms

This morning while I was in my bathroom getting ready for school Peyton stormed in and said, "MOM!  LIBBY SHOVED MY FACE!!!"

I gave my best horrified gasp and said, "Why would she do that?"

"Um.....she didn't like the thing that was in her face."

"Was the thing that was in her face your face?"

(Opening my sweater and tucking her face inside) "I just want to snuggle."

Also this:

"Mommy you scared me so much that it made my tummy suck in!"



November 23, 2013 Update:

I took Peyton's class yesterday for a few minutes while Ms. Silver got her picture taken in the gym.  My kids were working on a writing/art assignment, so while they worked I read a story to the kinders.  I love getting to interact with my babies and their friends in their (somewhat) natural habitat.

This morning Peyton rolled over in bed next to me and in her sleepy state she asked, "Mom, do you think I could make your fourth graders laugh if I wanted to?"

Hmm..... It appears someone may be setting the stage to debut as class clown....

It Matters More About Love

"It matters more about love" is something Peyton says regularly.  It's not a statement, but a question, really.  When she says it she's trying to gauge the present situation.  What she really wants to know is that no matter the topic, love is more important, right?  It can be anything.  Tonight, when I asked her how long she brushed and she replied with, "half of what's in the timer", I reminded her that this is exactly half of the time that she's expected to brush.  I lectured on like any good parent about how her teeth are an important part of her and so it would serve her well to keep them.  Brushing well will accomplish this.... yada yada yada....  Also, I knew she rushed just so she could get her mitts on the iPad.  Grrrrr. I'm a fan of my iPad, except for the part about how it's killing everything good about society as we know it.  I practiced some self control and did not start in on that lecture.  As she shuffled her buns to the bathroom to put her flouride away she asked, "It mattuhs more about love than wotten teeth, wight mom?"

I mean, it's true.  I'd love her no matter which part of her was wotten....

Staging My Umpteenth Comeback.....

Flannery O'Connor said "I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say."  I'm maybe supposed to know who Flannery O'Connor is before I quote him.  Or her.  But I just loved the quote when I saw it on Pinterest because it's super-true about me.  And then I quit writing here.  Time has gotten away from me and my job is hard.  I mean hard. I know there is a population of people out there who just think teachers and nurses are whiners, because of the unions and all.  But the truth is, summer is so easy and then September comes and I don't have a minute to stop and think it all through. It's more or less 10 hours straight of thinking on my feet.  I have entertained the idea that maybe it's that way because I'm doing it wrong.  The thing is ,though, I'm pretty sure I'm also doing some things right.

Then, when I got home tonight one of my favorite online writers, Glennon Melton of Momastery, posted this on facebook....

I’m in a new life season over here. I’ve got all three kids in school and I’m working from home, so I’m taking my turn. I’m heading into the school to help the kids’ teachers when I can. For all of you parents who can’t make it in because you’re in a different life season- I’d like to offer you the OFFICIAL KINDERGARTEN REPORT:

THE KIDS ARE FINE.

The over-achievers are concentrating and the artists are doodling and the rascals are rascalling (why do the rascals always have the most hard-to-resist grins?) and the ones that struggle are with the teacher getting some extra love and smiles. They’re painting and sharing and getting band-aids for invisible paper cuts and singing math songs and talking over each other and telling twelve minute stories during circle time that have absolutely nothing to do with the topic being discussed. Teacher: Does anyone know why we celebrate Thanksgiving? Little One: Oh! OH! ME ME ME! Teacher: Yes. Sarah. Sarah: MY GRANDMA’S NAME IS ALICE AND SHE HAS A BLUE CAR AND ALSO NINE CATS!!!! (then twelve more minutes about each cat, obviously.)

LISTEN TO ME: They don’t miss us. I KNOW they swear they do and they cry before drop off and they make us feel fifty shades of crappy before 8 am and I’m not saying that they’re lying: but let’s just say THAT THEY ARE DRAMATICALLY MISREPRESENTING THEIR EXPERIENCE. I don’t know why they do this. I think that maybe after our babies are born and the nurse takes them away to have their “first bath” she actually takes them a workshop entitled: “THIS IS HOW TO LAY ON THE MOMMY GUILT HARD AND FAST. DO IT OFTEN AND EARLY- SHE’LL BUY YOU MORE CRAP.” Don’t buy them more crap. They’re happy. I watched them all really closely this morning- and they are being cared for. We have a-freaking-mazing teachers in this country and they are DOING THEIR WORK so that we can breathe and do ours. And all of them- the overachievers and the artists and the rascals and the story tellers and the strugglers – they will be okay. They have nets.

Breathe Deep and Carry On, Warriors.

Of all the things she has written that I love, and there are many, this post is probably one of my favorites.  I could totally relate to it.  Libby won't let me near her class, knowing she'll dissolve into a puddle of tears. She just does.  If I stay away she's fine. Which is tricky because my fourth grade students are buddies with her first grade classmates.  Luckily, Mrs. Kirk has lots of hugs, high expectations and a mop.  Peyton is happy to see me, so I help in her class twice a week when my students are in PE.  It's a world away from fourth grade and I love it.  When I leave, she's fine. Really. Even though they both beg to be picked up early. 

Anyway, maybe I'll start showing up here again.  Then I can get a grasp on what I think.

The Register Guard came to our Halloween parade.  Libby is the princess in yellow.

 

An overnight with Debra and Jodi

Last weekend in Waldport....

Looking for agates

Look who's reading!  To her sister, even.

 

Also, Flannery O'Connor is Mary Flannery O'Connor.  She's a girl.  I checked.