There's a bathtub under all those toys!

There's nothing like a night in a clutter-free hotel room to inspire me to clean when I get home.

Last Friday night, Jeff and I enjoyed an overnight away from the kids. We decided to splurge, renting a hotel suite with a king size bed and whirlpool. It was definitely a very nice hotel room, but as I looked around, I couldn't help but realize just how ridiculous it was for us to spend that much money to enjoy the same accomodations we have at home.

And so, Sunday was anythign but a day of rest at our house. I bought two clear plastic bins (with drainage holes), and put the kids to work.

The instructions were basic. Each kid got a basket and needed to fill it with any of their toys they wanted to keep. Anything that didn't go in a basket needed to be put away or it'd be thrown away.

I was pleasantly surprised by how well they worked together. (As long as you ignore how much time AJ wasted playing with his Spiderman snorkling mask.) See the big orange lobster scoop? I could have sworn it was AJ's, but both kids agreed it was Sydney's. Until she announced she didn't want it, and then it found a home in AJ's basket and everyone was happy.

I'm certainly no one to criticize the kids for the mess. I had piles of my own to clean: magazines, dirty clothes and even a basket of old kids' books, which I'd used to keep AJ busy when he was young. It was a set of Sesame Street books my mom had picked up at a garage sale - each book highlighted a different letter of the alphabet. AJ had loved the books when he was younger, but Sydney had never been as interested in them as her brother was. And so over the years they've collected dust and been buried under clothes and other objects I was just too lazy to put away.

AJ couldn't possibly have known I was planning to box up and donate those old books. But somehow, just as he did last spring when I was gathering treasures for a garage sale, he seemed to know the books were going away. The next thing I knew, he had gathered a stack of the books and was showing a renewed interest in them, suddenly able to read them himself.

I have a long way to go for my housekeeping skills to be next to godliness. But my new goal is to clean a new room or space each weekend day. During the week, meanwhile, I will go through a magazine a day, tearing out recipes and any other article I may decide is worth keeping, and recyling the rest.

It's an ambitious goal, and if I stick with it, I may finally see a clutter free house by the new year. But I doubt it.That's what hotel rooms are for - to enable my denial.

Land that I love

There's something about sitting in a crowded gym with horrible acoustics. It doesn't matter if you're up on the hard wooden bleachers that make your butt go numb, or down at ground level on chairs so far from the kids you need your camera's zoom lens to capture the action.

Each time I come away feeling thankful for our small town, the school and the people.

Last Wednesday, AJ's elementary school performed its annual Grandparents Day program. This year's concert had a patriotic theme. (Add to my list of things to be grateful for - no special costumes for this show! The kids were told to wear red, white and/or blue.)

Looking around the gymnasium, I spotted several neighbors as well as many parents I know from church, AJ's sports and other activities. It was the middle of the work day, and yet all of them had prioritized taking a few hours off to be there for their kids.

And the kids are good kids. To AJ's right is Cale from baseball and hockey. Straight down from Cale is Drew, from church. Directly below AJ is Evan T., his best friend from kindergarten. I also see Matthew and Parker in the front row, both of whom have played soccer with AJ in years past.

I'm thrilled that our school district supports the arts with such an active music program, and I'm proud that the music teachers felt it important to teach the kids songs about patriotism and honoring our troops. And when I replayed the video, I realized something far more important. Listen to the words:

"Thank God for the flag... Thank God for your country..."

Thank God we live in a school district where kids are still allowed to thank God in a public venue.

Jeff and I, along with Grandpa Bill and Grandma Jo, all listened as the kids sang. Meanwhile, a short distance away in the bleachers, AJ had another fan.

Sydney's preschool class did an impressive job sitting through the hour-long performance. More accurately, Sydney's teachers did an incredible job of keeping her class quiet throughout the show. Just about every time I looked over it seemed that at least half the kids had changed positions, shifting rows and who sat on which teacher/aid's lap. But clearly, the program made an impression on Sydney. Even last night she was asking, "When can I sing like AJ?"

If I'm remembering correctly, she will get to be in a show this spring. And no special costumes are needed for that show either. Thank God.

Shopping adventures

I went shopping Sunday with the best of intentions. Sydney just wanted shoes. (And considering the toes on her black shoes are colored in with Sharpie marker to hide the scuffs, I'd say she's entitled.)

But first, we needed to replace the broken handle on our sliding door. I'd been told - a long time ago - that in order to do so, I needed to know the serial number, which is printed somewhere on the door. I finally found and wrote down the serial number, and so off to Home Depot we went. Only to find out Home Depot doesn't carry that brand of door. I guess we'll be visiting Menard's next.

Luckily, we did find corn stalks to decorate the porch, and a new spray bottle to replace the one AJ broke.

So the trip wasn't a complete waste of time. (Jeff, who was not with us, may tell you otherwise.)

Riding through the store, Sydney sprayed the corn stalk with the empty bottle. She announced it was going to grow into a magic bean stalk. I reminded her it was a corn stalk, which wasn't quite as exciting, but she continued spraying it just in case.

With the very long corn stalk at last loaded into the minivan, I gave Sydney the choice, asking, "Should we go to Target or Cub next?"

"The one with the shoes!"

"Target it is."

Pink sparkle shoes can do anything! She demonstrated her favorite ballerina moves (i.e. the only ones she knows). First position, plie and chasse, then declared, "I love 'em!"

Sparkle shoes, corn stalks and a spray bottle. How can you not call that a successful shopping trip?

Cool cousins

After "doing gym" (lifting weights) with his cousin Jonathon, AJ was excited to show me his new muscles.

I just don't know how to tell him those "six-pack abs" are really his rib cage.

AJ's not the only one with a sense of idol worship after spending the night with his cousins. Sydney thinks her cousin Jessica is pretty cool too. Especially playing dolls with her, which says something about just how patient Jessica is. Because she never really liked dolls when she was younger, and now years later she willingly plays with them just to entertain Sydney.

These pictures are from "the morning after." My sister graciously volunteered to babysit overnight so Jeff and I could enjoy a belated anniversary get-away. Saturday morning they brought the kids to our hotel for a little swimming before check out time.

I know Jeff and I had a really fun evening. But I suspect the kids enjoyed the night as much as we did. Less than five minutes into the ride home, Sydney asked, "Some day can we go back to Auntie Lisa's house again?

Notes from teachers

To have a child in elementary school is to be inundated with paper. Everyday, the already-tattered folder comes home in AJ's backpack, filled with recent examples of spelling and vocabulary and math assignments. Notes about upcoming events and projects are also common - almost as common as requests for money for those upcoming events and projects: $5 to rent roller skates, $7 for a yo-yo, $10 for miscellaneous art supplies. Music concerts, community ed. events, field trips, weekly and monthly re-caps: I have no right to ever complain that I am uninformed.

The pastel rainbow of notes never stops. They come daily, get read and then clutter up the dining room table or kitchen counter until I get ambitious and at least clean up and move them to the recycling bin.

And now that Sydney is in pre-school, I see double the tree carnage.

But of all the notes, my favorites are the personal comments from the kids' teachers.

After Sydney's first full week of preschool, this is what her teacher was able to tell us:

Sydney was so excited to be at school. She was loving using scissors. She said she's never used scissors and is so excited! Remind her to cut with thumb on top ("Thumbs up for good cut")

Meanwhile, AJ gives his teacher all sorts of content to write home about. A recent e-mail included: 

I wanted to let you know Alex has been doing a wonderful job of not talking when I'm talking or teaching in the classroom. We're still working on listening to directions, such as when I'm teaching and I want the kids to come to the board and do something... he has a hard time listening, and therefore knowing what to do when it's his turn. We're working on it though! And I'm learning more about him and his love for learning, history, etc. every day. He's so much fun to have in the room!

My personal favorite was a note jotted on a homework assignment of AJ's. The teacher had read a book to the class about "Big rigs", and the kids were supposed to write sentences about what they'd learned. AJ's sentences included "Big rigs drive to Florida." and "They drive very, very fast." The teacher gave him credit for using his imagination, writing:

This is nice, but we didn't learn this in the story.

Fire drill

And what must the neighbors think this time?

"Oh those weird Kazels. What are they doing now? It's not even daylight and they've got their kids outside. And with no coats!"

What were we doing? Fulfilling yet another homework assignment for one of our kids. By having a fire drill. As part of fire prevention week, AJ and his classmates were each supposed to practice with their families, what to do in the event of fire.

We'd talked with the kids ahead of time, quizzing them on what to do. We decided our mailbox would be a good meeting place. Next, we talked through some scenarios:

• What if they heard the alarm and didn't have shoes on? (Answer: forget shoes and just get out of the house.)
• What if they it was really cold and they didn't have their coat on? (Answer: forget the coat and just get out of the house.)  
• What if the fire is by the front door and you can't get outside that way? (Answer: use a different door or a window.)

Then the tough one: What if Gus was running around the couch and didn't come when they called? Both kids insisted, "We have to get Gus!" It took more talking, but finally we convinced them to not worry about Gus. Mommy or Daddy would get him. Their job was to yell to everyone else and then head outside to the mailbox.

At last they were ready. More specifically, we had to send the signed slip back by Wednesday saying we'd practiced, and so we just had to get it done. Wednesday morning, we woke the kids as usual, helped them dress and got them set at the table eating breakfast. They didn't note the oddness that we'd told them to put their shoes on, or that Daddy had Gus's leash in hand.

As they started to eat, Jeff snuck into Sydney's room and hit the test button on her smoke detector. Loud, piercing beeps rang out.

Wonderful surprise - there was no panic. Maybe it's because they've been through drills at school. Very calmly, AJ slid out of his chair and headed for the door. Sydney looked confused for a moment but quickly caught on and followed her brother.

Nobody yelled "Fire" to notify everyone else. We probably should work on that. Instead, AJ called out the most important instruction of all from his first grader point of view.

"One line! Get in ONE LINE!"

Out the door we headed. AJ was in the lead with Sydney close behind. I was next, followed by Jeff and AJ. We were almost to the mailbox when Sydney made the observation I was dreading.

"We didn't get Spike."

"That's okay," I told her. "We got Gus."

Amazingly, she let it go at that and changed the subject. "I didn't get a bite of my Cocoa Puffs."

"You can eat them as soon as we go back inside. You guys did a really good job. Let's go back in the house."

Back at the breakfast table, Sydney brought up the cat again, "Why didn't Spike come outside?"

"I just knew she didn't really want to come outside. The firefighters would find her."

How do you explain to a four-year-old that in the event of fire, the odds of survival wouldn't be too good for an 18-year-old cat that hangs out in the basement to avoid the dog, tends to hide when scared and is - I suspect - deaf and going blind?

Let's just hope our newly learned evacuation skills are never put to the test.

The balancing act of motherhood

Dedicated, supportive mother? Or crazy lady humming circus tunes while skipping down the driveway?

It's a fine line that separates the two.

A line drawn in chalk on our driveway. 

Sydney's "homework" called for her to draw a long line on the driveway and walk along it with her arms outstretched, pretending it's a tightrope. We started up by the garage, where I had her draw a line that was about 15 feet long. Sydney started her balancing act walk, with me following a few feet behind her.

To make it more fun, I started humming a circus song (which doesn't exactly translate into words, considering my version started, "Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da... yeah, I'm sure you know exactly the one I'm talking about.) But it was very lively and inspiring, so when Sydney reached the end of her "rope," I told her to turn around and this time run along the line. She happily did so, with me again following and copying her.

When she reached the end this time, she surprised me in the most wonderful way. Turning around, she took charge, announcing "Unicycle! And juggle!"

But my little circus performer wasn't doesn't yet. She next decided our tight rope needed to be longer. Much, much longer.

All the way down the driveway, she extended her line until she was nearly out of chalk. And then we started over again: walking, running and, yes, even pretending to ride a unicycle while juggling.

Oh, what must the neighbors have thought? The four-year-old tightrope walker looked pretty cute. The 41-year-old performer, meanwhile, looked sort of... um... you can imagine. I'm glad Sydney was having so much fun she didn't stop and ask to take my picture.

Let's just hope our version of the greatest show on earth went unseen and heard.