- Zaza taking a pram full of baby dolls to the doctor because she was worried they all had "ear confections" (yummmm! tiny maple sugar ears! or little pink gummi ears!
- Ander pulling on a plain green t-shirt, grimacing at his reflection in the mirror, and then asking me if it would "hurt his reputation" to wear such a plain shirt, because he is apparently "sooo NOT a plain person"
- Ander and Miss Kitty running all over each other's words as they fought to tell me about the apparent highlight of their day, i.e. "the applesauce incident" in which -- get this -- true I swear -- omigosh -- heeeheeee -- Miss Kitty dropped her applesauce -- really! -- on Ander's shoe. Whoa.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Saturday, September 06, 2008
...I requested that my way-too-wide-awake-at-seven-a.m. children each draw me a robot dancing with a ballerina:
Oh the awesomeness!
It's almost enough to turn me into a morning person.
Or at least into somebody who smiles and snort-giggles as she stumbles into the kitchen in search of coffee.
Friday, September 05, 2008
New shoes. He's between sizes in Converse sneakers, so he went with his marbleized 'Mocks' (faux Crocs from Target).
New Gary Baseman lunchbox. Yes, it's pink. I suppose the artwork is a bit bloody, but the boy does have artists for heroes, so I'm not complaining. (It's only outside of the backpack for the sake of these pictures.)
The new backpack was finally settled upon last week, and then there was the whole process of switching various pins and buttons and patches and charms and mascots from the old red pack to this new one. Inside there is also a tin of colored pencils and a small sketchbook (for the inevitable wait during after school pickup), a folder for bringing home important papers, sour 'mints' in a Corpse Bride tin, vanilla-scented foaming hand-sanitizer, a water bottle, and a green apple for snack.
A distinct lack of back-to-school haircut. His hair seems to have rediscovered the curls of his toddlerhood, and neither he nor I can bear to snip them off just yet. And no, we don't brush it. A good finger-combing to check for snarls, and a spritz of louse-repelling tea tree oil, and he's good to go. Again, he's got people like this for fashion icons.
The boy does love his zany socks, and, as in years past, he opted for a collared shirt to be just a smidge fancy.
(Oh yes: Zaza did finally settle on a new lunchbox.)
: : : : : :
Ander was pretty anxious. Though he didn't get that way until last night.
He found out two days ago that he wasn't in the same class as his three closest buddies. But he actually seemed okay with that, because there were plenty of other kids he knew and liked on the class list, and he would be sure to see Mr. A at recess. He wasn't even that fazed by the as-yet-unseen 'new' temporary site for the school (in portables, on the grounds of another elementary school). He seemed relatively blase about meeting his new teacher -- he had heard from his friend and carpooling buddy Miss Kitty that the new teacher was kind and young and excited.
It was more of a general anxiety about leaving me, I think. That and a vague, sub-subconscious struggle with the transition from our lackadaisical summer 'schedule' to the rhythms of the school day.
By last night he was smooshing his head into his pillows and tremulously whisper-wailing, "I just don't think I can do this."
So hooray for our new carpool.
I was able to drop him off at Miss Kitty's house a bit early for what amounted to a morning mini-playdate. With a blown kiss and a backpack-charm-jingling turn, he was off to explore Miss Kitty's apartment and play with her cats and pet her dad's guitars. He only had to wave goodbye to Miss Kitty's mom at drop-off (no tearful, clutching farewell to me and Zaza) -- and Mr. A was waiting for him on the playground.
The pickup line was outrageously long, snaking along three blocks of a crowded Hollywood avenue. But once Miss Kitty and Ander were buckled in, they pronounced it a good first day. Things were familiar enough (same furniture and rugs, same wonderful lady in the office, same beloved P.E. teacher and drama teacher), and those that weren't familiar were only mildly annoying (backpacks have to be left outside the portables; bathroom visits are on a specific schedule) or just plain interesting (tetherball courts! lunch outside, at picnic tables!). They liked that their teacher (the Lovely and Talented Miss G) read them this book, and that she let them know a bit about herself when she told them that her copy had been a gift from her brother when she graduated from college.
We met Mr. A and his family at Yogurtland for a celebratory frozen yogurt (is there a theme here?), and the little kids were out of control, but the bigger kids were so happy to be together, and all the excitement and newness and excited-expectation was sooo contagious.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
...and that having to get along has been the best, most important thing they accomplished this summer -- better than ice cream, more important than swimming.
Oh, and the above Crayola Window Marker experiment was fraught with arguments over placement of drawings and usage of footstools, and accusations of copying, but was also laced with fits of cooperation and ingenious compromises.
Which is pretty cool considering I just wanted them busy and outside and away from the television while I made dinner.
Plus, I ended up with a nicely Windexed patio door.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
For me as a child, every two years or so, the start of a new school year was the start of a new life in a new town (sometimes a whole new state, or even a whole other coast).
There was always a special new first day of school outfit, an outfit which had been oh-so-care-full-y chosen from the pages of the Sears or Penny's or L.L. Bean catalogue, an outfit whose arrival was torturously anticipated (would it arrive on time? would it fit? would I magically transform into the perky and confidant model from the catalogue when I tried it on?).