seven
My oldest turned seven today. SEVEN! Man, that feels like a graduation away from “little kid” and into big kid territory. In lieu of a birthday party, Jafta’s wish for his birthday was to go to Knott’s Berry Farm and ride all of the roller coasters with no younger siblings around to cramp his style. So, last Monday Mark took Jafta and two friends to Knott’s and did just that. Jafta rode every ride with gusto . . . even the ones that went upside-down. He’s . . .
the seven stages of parent-teacher conference panic
Jafta had his first parent-teacher conference of first grade this week. The teacher planned the conference pretty far in advance, so it was nearly a month ago that she sent home the schedule with the tentative times for the conference. I noticed pretty quickly that while every kid in the class appeared to be schedule for a 30 minute conference, it appeared that the time slot directly after Jafta’s conference had been blocked out. Jafta’s conference was the second . . .
there shall be weeping and pulling of teeth
Jafta had two teeth pulled at the dentist yesterday. Now before you go feeling too sorry for him, let me just tell you: he was THRILLED. On several levels: He missed half a day of school He knew it meant DOUBLE the tooth fairy money He thought the numb lip thing was awesome They put his teeth in a “treasure box” that he got to keep I have always been a bit phobic about the dentist, so his cavalier (maybe even excited?) attitude about the whole thing was confusing . . .
do boys really play with toys?
With the new school schedule, I have two days a week where I’m home with just India and Karis. It’s . . . interesting. It’s so quiet. And so easy. I’ve actually been blown away by how different it is, and I think there is one main reason: My boys don’t play with toys. My girls do. My girls will sit for hours and entertain themselves with toys. They don’t need any prompting from me. They create little stories. They play alone. They play with each . . .
how to make a good first impression (the montessori mortification)
Yesterday was Kembe’s first day at his new preschool. The Montessori thing is a bit new to all of us, and I will admit to being a wee bit intimidated by the whole thing. The school takes everything really seriously, from the strict packed lunch rules to the highly-specific uniforms to the class structure. Also . . . . there is not a single toy in the room made of plastic, or a recognizable Pixar character, or with any kind of battery-operated noise. The room sort of . . .
first day of first grade
Jafta had his first day of first grade today. I guess I'm supposed to be all weepy and sentimal about it, but honestly? I'm pretty happy that the school year is starting. This was a tough summer and I'm excited that I'll get a little quiet time in the mornings to work, and then be able to pick up the kids refreshed and ready to hang. It was also Kembe's first day at Montessori, and let me tell you, we made quite an impression. I'm going to have to wait to write . . .
why is there a market for bikinis on little girls?
India and I have been embroiled in a debate for the better part of the summer over her desire to wear a bikini. Or, as she called it, “the kind of bathing suit that is like underwear, but with triangles over your breasts”. Except she’s four. And doesn’t have breasts. This debate is coming quite a bit sooner than I expected. India’s argument? Everyone else is wearing them. And you know? For the most part, she’s right. Everywhere we go, girls her . . .
on being THAT MOM at the skate park
My boys had their first day of skateboarding camp this morning. They’ve not had much instruction or experience with their new skateboards, so honestly I expected that today would involve them learning where to place their feet, how to push off and go, and maybe how to pivot or something. Instead, this is what I found when I arrived: The boys were owning the skate park. I’ve not been around a lot of 4-year-olds who skate, but this is pretty impressive, no? The . . .
you just can’t get good help these days
Warning: whining about first-world problems to follow. Finding consistent childcare has become increasingly more difficult with four children. It’s not that they are hard kids. They are really pretty typical It’s just that collectively . . . four kids are really hard. Care in point: our nanny just quit. Again. I should caveat right now and say that we have some occasional babysitters that we absolutely adore. We’ve had some really amazing babysitters . . .
anticipatory behaviors (this week in iphone photos)
This past weekend, we took a trip to Palm Springs to celebrate Mark’s birthday with some friends. This was a rather ill-timed trip, given that it fell just a few days after I returned from BlogHer. I was still trying to catch up on sleep, work, laundry, emails, down-time, and general sanity, and suddenly it was Thursday morning, the day we were supposed to leave. The kids were out-of-their-minds excited for the trip, which manifested in them basically nagging me every five . . .
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