School Handouts

Here's what. The Homework Folder.
This is what is in there for the student: The homework packet for the week on Mondays.
Here's what is in it for me, the parent: TONS AND TONS OF PAPERS.

In particular, there are an obscene amount of 'papers' that come home every Monday in my girl's homework folder. Seriously, I fill recycling bins. This is an environmental issue people. Al Gore, are you aware of this?

For instance, there are papers about buying groceries through the school. Does someone do this? Can I talk to you as to why you do this? I'm honestly not really understanding the benefits of this.

There are papers about anything and everything. It's like my personal little inbox.

Yesterday there was a flyer to encourage parents to become part of the parent/teacher organization next year. Mine had an extra envelope stapled to it with my name on it. It was a letter from the office to encourage me to put in a nomination to be on the parent/teacher organization board next year. Some might think, 'wow that's awesome, they must see some leadership qualities in me.'  No, this really isn't why they sent it to me. It's because I am in constant contact with the school and then also when her class is having a holiday celebration...here's me with like a freaking party in a box for these kids. I tend to have a slight obsession with party planning and also get nervous for the children in the class as they have a male teacher. Not saying anything bad, but you know sometimes men think that opening the box of juice boxes and opening the bag of pretzels constitutes as a holiday celebration. I love Mr. Taco, but I also know he would love some hot wings, pretzel nubs, and some yuengling at the end of the year party. Totally cool. I will totally bring the cupcakes, brownies, juice boxes, and apple slices so we can pretend to be healthy.

So anyway, to give me purpose and to get me to shut up and off their back, well they think giving me a job within the school might be an outlet for me. I can't help it if I think the Spaghetti Dinner could be so much more awesome. I will contemplate this idea for five minutes, I promised. But like I said, I have a bit of ocd in regards to events and so seriously the book fair will look like something from my pinterest board, and book fairs seriously aren't that deep. I don't know, I think feeding mental health issues might not be cool.

My fave things that come home in the folder are things that K completed in the last week of school. Now that reading and writing has become part of her skills that make her a first grader, I get lots of entertainment from these. I often find myself saying, 'I am totally keeping these.' I am hoping one day she snorts from laughter at what she wrote, or perhaps she could hate me forever for keeping them. Either way, some are that hilarious that I am willing to gamble. She has to do this journaling that is centered upon questions the teacher writes on the board and they have to answer them to the best of their ability practicing punctuation, spelling, and grammar.
Here are some highlights from last week:

What is your favorite food, tell me about it: 'My favouright food is pancaks. Pancaks are made from flower. Flower comes from wheet. Pancaks can be stiky. Have wipes on the table.'

Oooookkkkkk.....excellent advice for the person who might eat pancakes or the person that may have a wheat allergy. This child hates pancakes.

Tell me a funny thing that happened to you and how you felt: 'One time I took an egg and thru it into the air and it landed on my head and brooke. I felt imbareassed.'

She should be more embarrassed by the fact that this incident never once occurred. It happened to Judy Moody, but not Kendall Anne. I can easily understand the mistaken identity though. Beyond that, it takes incredible skill to throw an egg up in the air and have it land smack on your head.

Tell me an adventure you went on and what happened: 'One time I went on a bike ride with my Mom Mom and Pop. It was viry long. I thot my legs were going to not work ever again. They like to go far. We went down a big hill to look at a tree. The hill was dangerus. Pop said it was fun. Then I had to ride back. I wanted Pop to go get the truk. I did not say that becuse they were having fun. I wanted to ride to a ice crem place. That is an aventure to me. They say they like natur. They sleep out side to sumtime.'

This could all very well be true. I feel her pain. I am sure you know my issues surrounding bike rides. Outdoor adventures with my parents and sisters are a whole other post, or five hundred. I can with confidence say that yes, the hill probably was large and that my dad actually did in fact say this was fun. This is how he rolls. Again, another post.  However, my parents actually do own a home, with a bedroom ,and a bed. I can only assume she is referencing camping, unless of course she knows something about them that I do not, and if they truly do just go in the backyard to sleep sometimes, this is just information I would rather not know.

What also was in with these papers was a note from the school nurse. You know all about that hand out if your kid is in school, the handout. We received them many times last year, something about kindergartners I suppose. However, each time my reaction is the same, shear panic. I began scratching my head as soon as I placed it in my hands to read.

This is a nice and quaint letter to inform me that there is a student with lice in her classroom. Listen, I know about lice. Ok? I know it happens and I know its fairly normal. None of these facts matter to me. Last year the lice was in the classroom, but it was a student in the afternoon class. The risk goes down a little. This year it is a student in her class. This is all consuming worst case scenario, cause I am totally that person.

Of course the letter stated that my child was checked and she did not have lice at this time. However here's me: standing over Kendall as she sat at the kitchen table eating cereal this morning, going through her hair like I was some monkey. Listen, I never said I was perfect, perhaps the kitchen table is not an ideal spot to be examining a head for lice. However, I was reading this hand out at the kitchen table, there was no time to change positions, this is an emergency situation people.

I know that it is treatable. But let me tell you something. If there is lice on my child you will know it. Not only will I call everyone I know close to a nervous breakdown, if you were to drive by my home, it would  look like Elliot's home in E.T. when NASA comes to visit. Tubes from doorways to go in and out, white hazmat suits worn. If I find a nit in a hair you will hear me screaming from here to Louisiana.

I don't even care if you call me an over reactor.

Listen, an unmentionable smaller entity in what is my large family took themselves and their family away to a family friendly place and hotel and came back with lice. The sweetest place on earth gave them lice. I now, will never take my children to this place. That's how serious I am. I only go to their home now because I love them, and because I have to, they are family. These facts, combined with the fact that the lady of the house is just as obsessive as I am about this horror that invades our scalps. O.k., so perhaps I stayed away for a specific amount of time that was determined by myself, however, once cleared, I was rest assured all proper treatments and precautions were completed 75 times more then what is necessary.

We just got finished with showers and baths. The girl didn't want to be bothered with one this evening. I, of course, chimed in like a nice calm and rational adult, 'Oh no no no....you will get in the shower, you just went to school in a classroom with bugs that could be potentially looking at your dirty hair and thinking, that might make a nice nest. So no, in this house we shower morning and night.'

So thanks to this handout I have been itching my scalp all day long. I have also grabbed my children each time they have walked past me today to examine their heads because you never know when one might make their move. The back pack is on the front porch.

I don't play.

Watch we get it.

What am I going to do?

I hate school hand outs.

This will certainly be the next one:

Six

My middle weasel turned 6 last week.
6!!!
This is just plain ridiculous to me. I might like to know where the time went if I actually did have time to sit and think about that, and then I suppose there is my answer.

This is the boy who showed me just how wonderful it is to be a mama of a boy.
I tell you what.
The sun rises and sets on you when you have a little boy. I mean and who doesn't like to feel like the center of the universe just once in awhile? The unconditional love of kids in general is completely inspiring, but then go ahead and have a boy. I have made my fair share of mistakes as a mama already, and I am certain there will be hundreds, ok Kendall, thousands more. However, this little boy lets me fall right back into his good graces within minutes.

We have our bad moments and days where mommy is a grump head, as he likes to call me. But it is those same days that turn into the nights at 3 a.m. when he wanders in to find me and he curls up next to me in bed, and fits right on into my position and breathes a big sigh of relief.

I know he won't be doing this at 16, and if I thought really long about that, I would break down crying.  Cause I am totally that Mom. I have said it before, these poor women that make my sons their husbands. Although they will be blessed with a man that can actually clean a toilet seat, they will have a mother in law that calls to make sure he is eating well and that his underwear doesn't have holes in it daily. And I am totally o.k. with that.  Truth hurts sometimes.

This child however has changed in this past year.
He spread his little wings a little and got to taste some independence outside of his mama.
It was not forced or talked about.
He just all of a sudden found his groove.

Today I came downstairs and this kid was pouring him and his brother a cup of apple juice to go with their cereal that he had prepared. All while I was upstairs wrangling his sister into bright colored clothing that suit her because it is 'spirit week,' at school.  God Forbid we can't find the fluorescent pink leggings on bright colored day what is wrong with me!!!

I turned and said, 'Look at this Kendall, look at this. Your brother prepared breakfast and you're fussing with me about the way your camisole is too long on your tulle skirt and puffing it out all funny!!!' She turned and looked, and then said, 'Hey, I'm hungry too.' He responded, Well Kendall, how am I supposed to know what cereal you want, am I going to always have to know what you want and get it for you!??!' She gave him a face like, 'well isn't that given?'  And I suspect this to be very true. Ethan is the calm and steady one. I would not be surprised if he is the one out of the three that they go to for support, encouragement, comfort, and advice more consistently. You might even find me doing the same thing by age 85. 'Should I take the stool softener or not Ethan, it's been two days, but I'm just not sure what to do!!!"

*For clarification, I got Miss Bright Colors her cereal so the other two could eat theirs before it got soggy because this too is complete and total disaster. And yes, I will talk to my son about my stools, payback is rough sometimes.*

I have mentioned he has his homies that he lives and breathes. Each day he is typically playing with friends and will always have a funny story about time with a friend. He runs in and out of the house all afternoon with a huge smile on his face because he is playing with friends. I can totally relate to this and find it just plain awesome.

He gives second chances when someone does him wrong, which is almost daily when you have a 2 year old for a brother. 'Jake, I will play trains with you, but if you throw Diesel at my head one more time, that's it for the day.'

He is naturally a caretaker. He likes to make sure everyone is o.k. and accounted for. He lets me know when the house is in need of things, like maybe for some reason I wasn't aware. Just last week at 4 a.m., he woke me because he had to deuce. Who has to deuce at 4 a.m.? I'm certain he had to deuce at 4 p.m., but didn't want to take the time to do it, so at 4 a.m. when nothing is going on, this seems appropriate. I'm not sure why I was involved as I stood with my eyes closed leaning on the vanity with a wipe in my hand for him to use. 'Hey Mommy,  so next time you are out running errands be sure to pick up some more go gurts, Jake had the last one today. And also, I think the playroom needs some new light bulbs in some of the ceiling lights, it seems pretty dim down there. And you're going big food shopping soon, right? Because overall, we are running low on snacks.'
Let me just break this down for a second: the words dim and overall were indeed used in this conversation, and not by me. And it seems as though someone is taking complete inventory of my house on a pretty consistent basis. This creeps me out just a little. But what gets me the most is that this was all recalled at 4 a.m. I'm lucky to land on the toilet seat at 4 a.m.

He is meticulous and thorough as you may see by looking at his wardrobe and toy collection.
He wanted a new scooter for his birthday from me.
Let me tell you, we went to exchange scooters three times until he was satisfied.
This is a very intense decision making process apparently.

And man he is a looker. Kendall's friends already giggle when he is near.
I might be a little bit bias because I am his mama and all. But this kid has some seriously handsome big brown eyes and a killer smile. You can judge for yourself.

So I don't know that I really want him to get much older.
He is seriously my milk and cookies.

No Recess

Homework.

It will surely be the death of both my daughter and I.

I have read many articles on how to have a positive homework time. I have even attempted to implement many of these tricks and tools of the trade.

It has become quite clear that none of these people have met my daughter.

I will sometimes be at the stove cooking while she is doing homework, because some suggest I engage in activity of my own while the student is close by doing his or her 'study time,' because calling it home work can supposedly set them off. This absolutely had me laughing aloud. I might as well rename every task I ask them to do that does not entail fun for all ages, perhaps a new thesaurus should be created for parenting?

The only progress I have during this alternate activity while she engages in 'study time,'is my own private thoughts of, 'I want to take this pot and bang it over the top of my head.' Because then I might pass out and this will be an excuse for not being able to complete the homework for that night. 'Dear Mr. Taco, K was unable to complete her homework last night due the family having to take a trip to the E.R. for an injury I acquired while cooking dinner.' I call her teacher Mr. Taco. I do this for one of two reasons, it will make her laugh, it will also annoy her when done too often, and that makes me laugh.

One article I read started off like this,  'Most children do not like homework.' Really? Wow. This article must be written by a rocket scientist, so I promptly skipped onto the next one.

Another article said that is the child's problem if they do not complete their homework, you cannot make them do it, make them take responsibility. This one is really hilarious. Has this person ever been to a parent/teacher conference? Last time I checked it was my responsibility to show these children how to be functioning human beings. Parent/Teacher conferences are really for you, the parent, to assess just how well you are succeeding at this job bestowed to you through your act of fornication. You sit there with progress and lack of progress charts in front of you so that you can see where you need to be more diligent with this child and ride them until they can count by two's until 100. You know you might say I take things a little to personally, that really it is the child who needs to take responsibility, it isn't a direct reflection of your parenting if they are not doing well in school. Listen, unless there is a direct diagnosis that explains and justifies their inability to be on average level, you know it as well as me, the target sits on our heads.

Middle Man couldn't get his home address right, and it was almost like I was failing him as a parent. The teachers looked at me with pained concern as they told me he couldn't say it completely correct. I almost said, listen, this kid isn't in Kindergarten for a reason, can we cut him a little slack with the lack of simply not knowing his zip code at age 5? But instead an entire weekend was spent on address drills; singing songs, repeating on drives to run errands, and just randomly shouting it out like I had tourettes throughout the day, and he would repeat. You best believe this child beat the crap out of this address and repeated it on Monday at school. I asked him when he got home to repeat it to me one more time, he looked at me like I had lost my mind. I said, 'What if you get lost and someone needs to get you home, how would you tell them where you live?!?!?' His response, 'Mommy, where would I get lost, I am always with you, and I don't talk to strangers.' Ok....' but what if a friend wants to send you mail or an invitation to a party, and they need your address?' He says, 'Mommy, we don't know how to write letters, their mom's can just ask you.' Touche. He then whispered the address under his breath just to make sure he knew it, I presume, just in case I was right, dude can't miss a party.

Mr. Taco wants us to read with our child, his student, every night of the week for 20 minutes, including weekends, and initial that we did this on the homework sheet. Mr. Taco, do you read to your child on Friday and Saturday nights? Come on. I will let you in on a secret. I totally lie about it sometimes and just initial that we did it. Because after an entire Saturday filled with activities and the child falling asleep on the ride home, you have got to be crazy if you think I am going to wake her up and read with her for 20 minutes. I would rather stick a pencil in my eye.

K's favorite thing to say about homework is this, 'I can't do it.' Of course in normal fashion this is very theatrical and over exaggerated. None the less, one article said that my response to this should be, 'act as if you can.' I tried that one night. She looks at me like I am crazy. I did even feel a little crazy for even saying it. 'What does that mean, act like I can?' I looked at her and said, 'yeah, I haven't the slightest clue either.' I mean really what does that even mean?

Of course there is the cardinal rules; don't bribe, don't threaten, don't give monetary or external rewards, don't engage in an argument. You know you guys totally do this at some point, I mean there is only so much patience one can have. And let's be honest, if homework is not done, it is the parents held accountable. We are called, emailed, asked to come in and speak with the teacher. We walk the walk of shame into the school because she didn't complete her 10 spelling sentences for quite some time. I will not do this, this child will do her homework. One time I totally acted like I was video taping her performance about the injustice of homework so that when Mr. Taco emailed me I could totally show this to him. My phone doesn't even video tape, but that girl sat right on down and finished a week's worth of homework in one sitting.

One night, before the homework packet was due for the week before I told her, 'K, you didn't finish it, I am not handing this in until you are done.' She seemed to be fine with this, like, oh well, there is always next week, and went on with her Justin Bieber performance with Just Dance, like consequences don't matter when it comes to school work. I was tired, and I didn't feel like getting into it with her that day, and promised the next day I would come up with our own plan, not an article's plan, to get homework done with minimal fights, oscar winning performances, threats and tears, aware that there would be some, but regardless homework needed to be done. That next day, after making charts, a special homework spot, a homework contract to go over together, the front door busts open at 4 pm announcing her arrival home from school. 'MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You didn't hand in my homework paper and I had to stay in at recess and do school work!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' I almost busted out laughing. This reaction was worth the naptime spent on homework ideas. Here was my answer, Mr. Taco pulled through better then I ever could have. I looked right at her and said, 'K, I will help you with homework every single night, but if you give me trouble, I will stop without warning and will not put it in your folder the next day.' This child sits down everyday after school and does her homework. God forbid we look bad in front of our peers and miss recess!!!!

So at some point, she got the message. School is like the ultimate authority right now. For some reason the fear of God is instilled in most children about what is expected as far as behavior and work in school, she is one of those children. I now have the golden ticket, you don't do something at home for school, your consequence is with Mr. Taco at school, and this is like the end of the world to her. Phew. I can stop googling how to get her to do homework and just say...'no recess'...at least until we get to trigonometry. Then we are just plain screwed.

My Fashion Maven

Remember the hyper color shirts?
I did not have one.
I consistenly spent many days blowing hot air onto my friend Katie's shirt in elementary school.
I think I may have asked for one like 2 years straight.
I never did get one.

Do you remember Skidz?
I can vividly see the street sign patch that sat on the waist.
I never had a pair.
My best friend had like a handful of pairs and wore them with such pride.

Z. Cavaricci's?
Remember those?
I didn't have those either.
But the best thing about those...boys used to actually wear them too. They also use to spike their hair with so much gel they felt like porcupines. They also drowned themselves in Drakkar cologne because us girls thought they smelled so good. They also did alot of nothing, when us girls used to call them and hang up on them and hound them with notes written in 3rd period math class and folded them up into a tucked up square and pestered them to write us back.

I did once get a pair of K Swiss sneakers like Kelly Taylor's and I seriously thought my crap did not stink.

My son. He is going to be 6.

 



This child loves clothing.
And you know, most boys are like, 'sure, it's a t shirt, its my size, lets go.'

Uh. No. Not my son.

Thankfully for me, he can find and meet mostly all of his fashion needs at Target. I am forever grateful that he thinks this is the only place to purchase clothing and shoes. My wallet couldn't handle much more then that for this clothes horse.

We take bi-weekly BIG shopping trips to Target to get most of our household needs. Sure I am there like 45 other times in that 2 week period, but not for these particular items. Let me tell you, this kid is like up and ready to go on these fridays. And no, its not for the promise of walking the toy aisles if they behave. It's so he can go and look at clothes and hopefully get something new to wear.

So we grab a ball for the trouble maker out of the dollar bin and meander over to the clothing section.
I will totally tell you, Target can seriously have some sweet deals in the clearance racks. I mean you cannot beat a shirt for $1.80, and I will have a smile on my face like the cheshire cats, because I have made this sweet deal. Now that I have told you this, stay away from my target so that the deals stay mine.

(Dude....Sue and I totally got vacuums that were leftover from Black Friday door buster sales two weeks ago for ten bucks. I don't care if you have a vacuum, ten bucks for a vacuum is like crazy...so tell me...you're totally itching to go to target, right?)

Now it is a game, me and Target clearances. Something will be like $3.48. Here is my mind. Do I risk waiting one more week? There is ten of these shirts left in her size...if I wait it will be surely under two dollars soon. Sometimes, I look at something and it is $4.90. I am all like, 'no way, highway robbery!!' This is for a pair of jeans.

Simply my children grow like ,and immersing myself into financial ruin to purchase them name brand items is just stupid. These clothes will not fit or will have holes in the knees in 3 months flat.

So now I completely get why Z. Cavaricci's were like a big HELL NO for my mom. Cause I am like HELL NO to jeggings costing more then 8 dollars. 8 dollars!!!

Each time we are at Target he will ask me what size he is. Small, home slice, small. He then will browse racks. He will browse racks like he is my grandmother at Strawbridges shopping for a suit to wear the annual church tea. He pulls things slightly out that hang on hangers, look it up and down and make some decisions. He has often been caught pulling together some outfits from all different racks determining which shirt might go the best.

Listen, Santa put some belts in his stocking and the reaction would have been similar to mine if a million dollars was in my stocking.

And beyond seeing what they are selling he is unaware of what is trending. He simply chooses what he likes and goes with it.

New sneakers is like the second coming. He actually has fully admitted to me that he loves the smell of new shoes.

And so then we have all these options to choose from, and I will tell him, 'o.k. E, like, one outfit today.'  Without fail, he will say, 'ok, let's go and try them on.'

Really. It's really like that.

We can't just know that it is his size and he likes them, we have to see how they all look before a decision is made.

We are in Target on these fridays for no less then 3 hours. A meal is shared there.

And if we need new clothes for the season, well people, you better just clear the day.

As you can see from the photo above socks are pretty important. No matter the temperature, high black socks were a must have last summer season. We suffer for fashion too, he got that memo loud and clear.

He will compliment others on their clothing choices or say to me, 'did you see Breckin's sweater today? Can we find one with a v like that for me in the neck there?' How can you not get that kid a v neck sweater after that?

Today was an athletic kind of day. There was much on clearance in this category today. He told me he looks like David Beckham.

And let me tell you something, if David Beckham's style is something we are focusing on...then Mommy can do nothing but support that.

So here's to my future Ralph Lauren.
Please keep in mind...depending on the way the wind blows Mommy wears a wide variety of sizes...plan accordingly.,,,and when you get a chance a hyper color mu mu is on the top of my list.

She needs to come for a playdate.

My children are currently completely enamored with this little chick.
I watched her while first with Jake and he says, 'Mayee....look at dat boy break dancing with a hat.'
Of course here's me beaming in pride he knows what break dancing is. You know there are some that are pleased with a child reading by age 3, I am all over my kids knowing your basic old school priorities.

I told him, 'No Jakey, that's a girl.'
'A gurrrll Ma-yee?'
'I said of course, now look here and don't forget, it's best you know now; ladies, my love, can do all things...and sometimes even better, so please treat them as such.'
'Ma-yee, she has on a black hat.'
'Yes of course, girls can really rock a black hat too.'
'She hot?'
Apparently my feminist tirade would be much better suited with him when he is, I don't know 4. For right now he is just worried about the girl's temperature.


I showed it to the other two this video. They have been doing what they have called break dancing all afternoon. I don't know, it looks like seizures to me. Of course Kendall has to remind the boys that the girl gets to win, just like the video. However, I hate to break it to her, but in this house...I think E might have the edge....he's got the most animal hair on his back, so his spinning is clearly much more advanced.