And that's why I'm not a first grade teacher

I love my children dearly. I delight as they discover new skills and abilities. I savor their success as much as - and maybe even more so than - my own.

That said, I'm so grateful for the dedicated teachers who put up with their antics nine months of the year. Those patient professionals who - using only the threat of a color change - get them to sit still and listen, and appeal to their eagerness to learn.

I was reminded of all this Friday as I chaperoned a field trip for AJ's class. It was just one hour long. And that was plenty long enough. 

Twenty kids total. And really, I, along with the grandmother of another boy, just had to keep an eye on seven of the kids. That's 3.5 kids per adult. That shouldn't be so hard. All we had to do was get them safely across the street and down a block to the Esko Historical Buildings.

But once there, we discovered so many cool things to see and touch and potentially break. An old one room school house (which I learned once sat on the site where the current school is built today) complete with historic clothes and books so old they referred to World War I as the Great War. AJ was in Heaven! 

Other buildings were set up to show what kitchens and bedrooms looked like 100 years ago.

Checking out an old stove



An old broom and other cool, old-fashioned gadgets

 A few weeks ago while out jogging, I passed a farm where huge rolls of hay rested in neat rows. I could hear a tractor in the distance. And as I pushed my weary body on through this voluntary attempt at exercise, I couldn't help but think how easy my life is. Looking at the primitive tools used for critically important tasks, not to mention clothing made from buffalo hide in hopes of fighting off the bitter cold of this region's long winters, I was again reminded that my life is a relative breeze.

And then I had to do another quick head count to make sure these seven busy and curious kids were all present and accounted for. It seemed that at least one of them was constantly missing. They weren't intentionally disappearing. They just happened to notice something cool in the next room or right outside the building and - Hey! Is that an outhouse? - they just couldn't control their curiosity. They have to check it out.- Does it smell like poop in here? - and then they have to run around like a maniac in search of friends so they can share their less than pleasant smelling discovery. It does smell like poop. Did someone toot? (Gales of laughter)

Yes, my life is so easy.

Blessed brownies

Once again I can only ask, "Does this sort of thing happen to anyone else?"

It started with a simple phone call Friday night. "Hi Dana, this is Cheryl from the church work group. There's a ______ (she told me the event, but I can't recall what it is - probably a funeral) on Monday and we need to provide treats. Can you bring a pan of bars?"

"Sure, no problem," I said. "I'll just drop them off Sunday morning."

"Great," Cheryl said, "Just make sure you label them that they're for the _______."

Yeah... no problem. Until I forgot all about it until 6:45 Sunday night. You'd think watching my children snarf two cookies each during Sunday school earlier in the day would have reminded me, but no. Luckily, I found a box of brownie mix in the cupboard, and I by 7:30 p.m. I had a pan of freshly baked brownies.

Of course the kids wanted some. I told them sorry, but these were for church and we needed to hurry to drop them off. To placate them, I let Sydney lick the spatula while AJ got the bowl. I wrapped the pan in tinfoil and then realized I couldn't label what they're for because I can't remember what they're for. I finally wrote on a Post-it note, "For Monday, 10/10.

As quickly as I could, I locked Gus in his kennel and loaded the kids and brownies into the minivan. I needed oven mitts to carry the still hot pan. We made it to church only to discover - oh yes, because nothing can be easy - the door was locked. I could have sworn there was at least a youth group activity going on. Apparently not.

So back to the house we drove. Sydney nearly stepped in the brownie pan, which I'd set on the floor of the van, on her way out. Walking into the house, which smells wonderful thanks to my recent baking venture, she declared, "For a bedtime treat, I want a brownie."

"No, you still can't have these. Daddy's going to have to drop them off in the morning."

The church won't be unlocked yet when I leave for work, which means Jeff's going to have to deliver them after dropping Sydney at daycare. Right. After working all night and then wrangling two kids out the door to school and daycare, he's going to remember to drive to church with a pan of brownies. This is the same man who – the last time I had to bake bars for church – ate a good chunk of them before I noticed what he'd done.

Anyone want to place bets on the odds I'll come home from work tomorrow and find a pan of day-old brownies sitting on the counter?

Fall, please don't leave

When it comes to picking blog topics the last week or so, I seem to have fallen into a bit of a rut. But it's a leaf-filled rut, so - in my world - that makes it perfectly okay.

If the weather this month has seemed unreal (sunny and unseasonably warm), then the last two days are surely straight out of a fairytale. It was 79 degrees here yesterday. At 11 o'clock at night! Need I remind you that it's October and we live in a region where it's far more typical to see snow flurries thsi time of year. We grumble, but aren't surprised. Turn up the heat to 79 degrees, on the other hand, and we're wondering how we got so lucky (and bracing ourselves, figuring surely we'll pay for this later in the form of an especially brutal, cold and long winter.)

I've never experienced the infamous Santa Ana winds, but based on how I've heard them described - as very warm and extremely powerful - then something comparable blew through here last night. By morning, lawnchairs were tipped and the peak of the fall colors were piled on the lawn.

Making the most of the situation, the kids and I turned our attention to the backyard. (I've been avoiding the leaves there up until now because clearing them requires the extra, smelly step of scooping up after Gus.) Here's a look at the fun. It was all going well until Gus attacked the camera strap and Sydney attacked the photographer:

Forget global warming, I'm wondering if the tilt of the world's axis has shifted a bit. If it has, and it means more fall days like this one, then I'm all for it!

Special Delivery

It's not as if I've talked Sydney into whitewashing a fence...

But maybe, just maybe, I've sort of dropped a few hints, which my four-year-old seems to have interpreted as a challenge. "Sydney, do you think you're big enough yet to get the newspaper all by yourself?"

"I am! I am!"

And that's how easy it is to get out of the daily morning trek to the end of the driveway to get the newspaper.

"Sydney, do you want to get the newspaper today?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

I almost blew it this morning. She's been retrieving the paper all week and so I decided to mention it here, which means I needed to get a picture.

"Don't take my picture outside!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" (Don't make the newspaper getter angry!) "Can I take your picture inside? Say 'special delivery!'"

Earlier this week I briefly wondered if I should feel guilty about playing on my daughter's desire to prove her big girl status. Okay, not really. But I posted the question on my Facebook page and the overwhelming response was that this is perfectly fine, as long as the object she's retrieving is the newspaper. Paraphrasing some of my favorite answers... had I been asking her to retrieve a duck or a beer, then it'd probably be wrong. But a newspaper is perfectly acceptable.

Way to go, my big girl!

First day excitement

She's been asking for weeks, "Tomorrow do I get to go to Miss Tina's class?"

And at last, the big day arrived!

As we pulled up to the building, Sydney enthusiastically pointed, "There's AJ's school!"

"Honey, now it's your school too."

She held my hand as we walked through the parking lot, excited to go to the room with all the toys and make new friends. But clearly a little nervous, too. "Mommy, you're going to stay with me today at Miss Tina's"

"Yes, but just today."

We made it right on time, and walked in and found her cubby hole. After hanging up her backpack, which she is so excited to carry, (she wore it even while seatbelted in her booster seat) she found a table where puzzles had been set out.

As other moms snapped photos galore, (a close of up a name tag? Must be a scrapbooker.) Sydney renewed acquaintances with "Little Jayce", the son of AJ's hockey coach, who she's chased around the warming house numerous times. I also recognized a girl from Sunday School, but other than that, these will be all new friends.

And then the fire alarm started blaring.

Seriously.

The kids seemed slightly perturbed by the loud sound as they tried to play. Miss Tina had an expression on her face that clearly said, "You have got to be kidding me!"

But there's no time like the present to learn this important drill, so she got all the kids in line and out the door they went, with parents trailing behind. As we walked, the kids must have been told to hold hands, because I saw Sydney, pigtails bobbing, reach for the hand of the little girl next to her.

Out on the playground they gathered, along with dozens of other classes. (We didn't see AJ. The closest exit for his class takes him out the front door.)

And that's why the very first time the teacher took attendance, it was out on the playground. some of the kids were too shy to raise their hand when their name was called. But not Sydney. She raised her hand and said loudly, "Here." 

I was quite proud of how well she handled it all. There were more than a few kids in tears. Even when the teacher surprised the parents with the news we weren't supposed to stay this first day, and I had to tell Sydney I had to leave, she didn't seem overly upset. She gave me a hug and, as I walked away, called out "I love you, Mom!"

I had to run back into the school to drop off a schedule for the daycare program there. By the time I left, Sydney was happily climbing on the playground.

When I picked her up two hours later, she filled me in on what I'd missed. "We saw a movie, and we went on a bus that took us away from here."

"You did? What was the movie about?"

"Um, don't walk by the bus and don't go under the bus."

An important first lesson. Let's hope day two is just as fun, though maybe with a few less surprises.

Imagination on parade

Let's see... if you've got a wagon, dog treats, a five-gallon bucket and a bike, what could four creative kids do to stay busy for a half hour or so?

Well... organize a parade, of course!

My friend Crystal, lovely enabler of my Pampered Chef addiction that she is, just had a book party, and I needed to give her my order. So we turned it into a play date Sunday afternoon. As Crystal and I happily chatted and soaked up the sun, the kids even more happily ran around their awesomely huge yard. The highlight, at least for my kids, was playing in the tree house, which Sydney is very proud to now be able to climb up to and down from all by herself, thank you very much!

As it was nearing time to go, one of the boys rushed into the kitchen to announce a parade would be starting in just a few minutes.

By the time we reached the driveway, we found Carver setting up chairs for the spectators. Crystal and I took our seats, and the parade started.

And ended.

It was a very short parade. Ethan pulled AJ in the wagon while AJ threw stickers to the crowd of two. Sydney handed out a dog treat to Oreo. And Carver, on his bike, did his best not to crash into the slow-moving procession.

And then they switched up rolls and did it again. And again.

They were so proud of themselves. And so was I. What a fun idea!

 

Who needs expensive, high tech toys when you have good friends and great imaginations?

Leaf fight

What could possibly inspire a 6-year-old to volunteer to head outside on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon to rake leaves?

Sure, there's a certain novelty factor, not to mention the anticipation of receiving his weekly $1 allowance. But no, it was the promise of something far more rewarding that had AJ eagerly changing out of his Sunday dress clothes and picking up our new rake.

It was the chance to take part in an age old tradition that symbolizes all that's fun and carefree about these final days before winter sets in. And being the good big brother that he is, once his work was complete, AJ invited his sister to share in the moment. One, two, three...

Jump!

Follow that up with throwing handful after handful of leaves at each other. Okay - I suspect this was the real reason he called Sydney to join him. He needed a target.

I can't help but wonder if on some instinctive level, my kids "get" that this nice weather won't last forever. It's as if an inner clock or calendar is telling them to make the most of these final warm days before the snow flies. Or perhaps now that school's back in session, AJ isn't able to spend as much time as he'd like outside, and so he has to pack in the fun on the weekends. Regardless, it's never been so easy to get them to turn off the TV and head outdoors.

The first thing Sydney said when she came out of her bedroom Sunday morning was, "Mommy, is it still fall?"

I didn't dare confuse her by suggesting it's Indian summer. It wouldn't matter to her anyway. All she needs to know is the sun is in the sky and the leaves are on the ground. And really, what else could you possibly need to have an afternoon of fun.