the way of the ipad
We’ve gone the way of the ipad. We held fast for about a week, giving strict instruction that the kids were not to touch the shiny new device. But we caved pretty quickly. Oh, I have such mixed feelings about technology. It is truly amazing to see how my kids can learn and create on this device. We have been working on letters with Kembe for the past year, and he has also been in preschool for a year. But no matter how much repetition , he just could not grasp the concept of . . .
the orange bandit
My kids love those California Cuties oranges. Or tangerines? Whatever they are . . . we love them. I am kind of stingy with the snacking schedule around here, but the kids are allowed to eat fresh fruit whenever they want. So they are grabbing these oranges all day. Eating oranges and dressing up in costumes. It’s what we do. Karis likes the oranges, too. But more than eating oranges, she loves to master a task that her older siblings can do. She . . .
when a good parent-teacher conference doesn’t feel good. (and when it does)
About six months ago, I had my first parent-teacher conference for Kembe. We started him in preschool after he had been home from Haiti for about four months. We would have waited longer, but he learned English very quickly and he was soon begging to go to preschool like his brother and sister. I had some reservations about it, but we gave it a shot and he really, really liked it. In retrospect, I think the preschool environment was much more familiar to him than a home . . .
absolute (birthday) power corrupts absolutely
So I’ve been meaning to write about Jafta’s birthday. It was way back in December. But it was dragged out nearly as long as it took me to write this post. Jafta’s birthday is a couple days after Christmas . . . an unfortunate date for a birthday (speaking as someone with a birthday in that same week). School is out, everyone is on vacation, and if any friends are around to come to a hastily-planned party, the chances are good that your gift is going to be a regifted reject . . .
the day Jafta’s dreams came true
On Thursday, I made a cheesecake. I'm not sure that the kids have ever witnessed me making a dessert that resembles a pie. When Jafta saw what I was doing, he begged me . . . I mean BEGGED ME . . . to throw it in someone's face. He was sure that this would be the funniest and coolest thing that could ever happened. He even volunteered to be the recipient of this pie-throwing. I thought his idea was amusing - but this particular cheesecake was pretty tastey and I didn't . . .
of earthquakes, fires, and floods
Mother nature has not been so kind to us this year. There was the earthquake . . . and then we had a flood. And since then, we’ve been hoping that our quota for catastrophe has been met for a long, long time. But still, there have been the little things. Like the glass slider shattering into a million pieces when Jafta was trying to close it, leaving a gaping 10-foot hole in our living room. I haven’t mentioned this on the blog in a while, because I thought it . . .
five is my favorite age
“I have a plan. The plan is to one day throw paper airplanes at the ice cream truck. It’s not going to be easy. But I’m never going to give up on this idea.” -Jafta Howerton I’ve always had an affinity for five-year-olds. When I was a teenager, I taught Sunday School at my church, and the five-year-olds were my class. I just adored this stage – when they are developing their own little personalities but still have such an innocent curiosity about the . . .
gag reflex
There is nothing like small children to get the gag reflex going. In the past week, I found myself suppressing the urge to throw up in my mouth on the following occasions: We went to the Bug Invasion exhibit at the Discovery Center, and Jafta held a four-inch cockroach, that hissed at him as he pet it. Hissed. Meanwhile, Karis peered into an egg crate of crickets that someone had set in a box on the floor and TRIED TO EAT ONE HERSELF. We took the kids to McDonalds playland as a . . .
of skulls, yellow pants, and the awesome that could have been
Oh, so much drama surrounding picture day. Jafta's was last week. The night before, we went to a pumpkin patch. And by pumpkin patch, I mean a bunch of bouncehouses in the parking lot of a mall. We let the kids jump to their heart's content, and then let them get their faces painted. (Side note: the gal who painted their faces was a lovely young woman who was also transracially adopted from foster care. She told us her story and proceeded to thank us for . . .
the rainbow connection
Jafta's class is having a "Celebration of Color" over the next two weeks. In my mind it is more of a "Celebration of Chaos", because he is supposed to wear an assigned color every day of the week for two weeks. And seeing as how I am struggling to remember to pick him up from kindergarten every day, this feels like a bit of a challenge. A couple of you suggested I just boycot the color thing, which would be a perfectly sane thing for a mother of four with intact boundaries . . .
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