My Man!

It WORKS! It WORKS!

J is outside leveling weeds all round the house. Green chunks of pernicious vegetation are flying all around. The boys have finished covering their ears. It's beautiful.



It's extra beautiful because the weedwacker has been barely-or not-functioning for some time. This morning J decided he wanted to use it. So he sat down and figured out what was broken and what was needed to fix the engine (it was a fuel-line thing). Then he packed the boys into the van and went to some type of store that I didn't even know existed...bought the parts for maybe $6, and FIXED IT (cue SNL). He knew how to FIX IT!



Hooray, hooray, hooray! Weeds are not only an eyesore around here; they are also a hazard. Unlike dirt, gravel, and sand, they burn.

I'm watching him go to town out of the window right now. He's wacking the part of the yard (North bank) the HOA landscapers are responsible for. My guess is that he's having entirely too much fun.

In my last post, I noted that Bud has tons of initiative and thinks creatively about getting what he wants. I've even seen him as a three-year-old standing on top of a step stool...on top of a chair...trying to reach the candy on top of the refrigerator.


Bud did not get this initiative or creative problem solving from Me.

Rearranging the Furniture

Lately we have had a significant furniture rearrangement. Someone gave us a couch, and as a result we've changed everything around. I feel like I'm in a new house! It's very fun and cozy.

One of the changes we made was moving the futon into "the office." It has relinquished its status as main-room furniture. More importantly, when we have guests over they can have the office as a bedroom instead of the front room...which technically worked, with the pocket door and all, but wasn't ideal.

Especially now that the pocket door is broken. But that's another story.

Anyway, we also moved bookshelves in in order to make the office more of a study. We'll see if we can overcome our habit and change the name, but we really want to change the function. The futon is a cozy place where multiple kids can curl up and read, with their books on shelves within easy reach. The "grown-up" books are on the other bookshelf. These include among others our Patrick O'Brians, some theology books, and most importantly (for the grown-up/kid distinction) our collection of Calvin and Hobbes. These are the worst kind of example for a four-year-old who (1) can't read, (2) doesn't understand social commentary anyway, and (3) has an extra helping of initiative and creative thinking. So says his mom, anyway, since the day he filled up a water balloon and threw it at her (he wasn't quite capable of tying the balloon closed, more's the pity) and cited C & H. As that was the same day he squeezed a tube of toothpaste into the toilet (WOW! at the bubbles), we took C & H off of the shelf.

But I digress. Thinking about that day always gets me a little worked up.

Soon after we rearranged the furniture, I found Pixie lying on the futon, thumbing through a science book. She was reading about cloud formation and weather patterns. She showed me how weather systems move, and talked about the rain we were getting falling on DD and Nona later.


Now, it was during school time, but I had gotten distracted by something during recess and had not yet called the troops back together. We still had...science left to do. We started our unit on the human body this week, and Pixie was to draw-and-caption cells.


I was so happy to see her using the study as we had intended (and doing something that's one of my favorite benefits of homeschool) that I ran to get the camera. Finally she looked up at me.

I said, "I'm sorry for interrupting your work."

She answered, "I'm not really working."

True, it didn't feel like work to her...but I definitely WAS interrupting. We're not scheduled to do earth science until next year, but I'm not going to tell her to NOT read it!



I'll also not feel quite so very guilty if, for some reason, we don't ever get around to the draw-and-caption for cells, which we didn't that morning. There's always some other afternoon...or next year.

And, just as a follow-up on the cell thing, we had this funny story from our babysitter last night:

Pixie and Bud were talking at dinner, and Pixie was saying that your whole house was made up of lots and lots of cells. Bud said, No, the whole HOUSE is ONE GIANT CELL! I asked Pixie, "How many cells do you think are in the house?"

She said, "I don't know. SO many cells no one can count. Maybe Six hundred googol cells."

Bud said, "God can count."

So they sat there yelling at each other, back-and-forth:

"Six Hundred googol!"
"God!"
"Six hundred googol!"
"God!"

And I kinda let them go for a minute, to see where this was going to end up.

We LOVE Erica. She's great, and great with our kids.

Strepelicious

Ah, Valentine's Day...in the Urgent Care Clinic. How romantic!

Turns out our little strep virus liked it so much around here that it decided to stay. Or come back. Whichever. I ran into Urgent Care on Sunday, and they gave me a HUGE SHOT of antibiotics on the spot. I have renewed sympathy for my children when it comes to those shots...I've been coaching them as if it's the same as having blood drawn. It's not.

So, I have strep. Pixie's doctor calls and wants her to come back in for follow up, which we did on Wednesday. Guess what? SHE has strep, too! No symptoms but strep breath :). Just for fun our fabulous doctor swabbed both of the boys while we were there. This afternoon, my friend M. picked up their antibiotics. Whoever heard of no-symptom strep? This morning, when we heard the boys were infected, Dr. R. asked for J. to come in and get swabbed, too. As he had an hour-long meeting in addition to teaching for six hours, that couldn't be worked out...although the doc suspects HE is the carrier. He's going in tomorrow. Then, my guess is that we'll all get to be on antibiotics together!

I love our pediatrician, love that she acts like a family practice doc, love that over the phone she walked J. through relocating Wombles' elbow after he dislocated it. Now, that was cool to watch.

Anyway, Madre, more pictures soon. We've rearranged our furniture!

And, Santiago came over to play again today, and he and Wombles had an excellent time together. Inside, of course.

Bored of Mud

Really, how many times can I write about my boys playing in the mud? It will happen as long as there is a rainy season, and this is the rainiest in 6 years. As a bonus, our yard was totally refurbished/dug up/spread around last month, and there is nothing under the playset but beautiful...mud.




Just one thought whenever I see this one: Seriously?



Bud checks out the slide. I think this is when he got his idea to "decorate" it, using the mud as "paint" (his description). Be sure to check it out in the later shots.


My boys had gotten into the mud when I went to the door to meet meet Santiago and his mother. Santiago was supposed to have an hour-long playdate with Bud and Wombles.


Santiago didn't get to play with Bud or Wombles, in part because they were doing this:


And this:


And this:



Poor Santiago. I took one look at my boys and told Santiago he wasn't allowed to go and get muddy. I may have emphasized the "muddy, dirty, yucky" thing a bit. No Way was I returning him to his mom in an HOUR looking like my boys did after 4 minutes. No matter how much she might like me.


I think he felt it keenly. I tried to distract or bribe him with all of their toys inside..."You can play with ALL the Lightning McQueens...." Regardless, he gravitated outside, where he would watch them in the mud, and I would watch him watching them in the mud (see "No Way," above).

Meanwhile, bored of just playing in the mud and even of throwing it at each other, my boys started throwing it up in the air and letting it rain down on themselves.



This is as close as Santiago got to the madness. I could hear him parroting me: "[Bud] is so muddy. Dirty!" Yep. And he'll never get to play with you, Santiago, because by the time he and Wombles are out of the mud and through the bathtub, it will be time for you to go home.


Bud got the first bath. I filled the tub up, put him in, and then drained the totally opaque, black water out of the tub and filled it up again.

I think he was proud of that.




We consider it a day well seized. The laundry is still soaking.

Temporizing

I said that "Tomorrow there will be Mud."

I ran out of time and went to a talk downtown with a friend tonight instead of staying home, planning Spanish for next week, and blogging. I don't think anyone will notice, except for J., and Auntie N, who "tagged" me in our fun little blogging game.

Although, NBG, you did "tag" me before you posted yours, which isn't quite fair. In the same vein of cheating-at-tag, I'll load up the picture of what I saw yesterday morning, right after a friend dropped off her little boy to play for an hour with my boys. So I stood and talked with her at the door for a few minutes. And so young Santiago (as I will dub him) never really got to play with my boys. But I'll explain all of that tomorrow. Or soon, anyway.


Or, maybe (NBG) you DID post, but it hadn't shown up in my reader yet? Oh well. Never mind about all of that cheating stuff. I love Baby Guff!



And, I know you can't see his face...but doesn't he look HAPPY??

Not the Mess, but Near the Mess

Yesterday started out as a regular morning at our little school.




Pixie got some work done, in fits and starts, of course, with all of the racket her brothers were making. We call that part "Community Life," or "Civics," or "Self directed study while Mom gets play-doh out of the carpet." She's doing pretty well.

Still, there are times when I like to focus my attention on one particular student (like during math). Bud has math while Pixie does spelling exercises, or reads her history or literature, for example. And often, Bud does phonics or Lightning McQueen during Pixie's math lesson.

Not so much yesterday.

Yesterday, Bud asked me if he could "make confetti."

Now, one of my very favorite little girls in the neighborhood made me confetti for a birthday present year before last, so I know that homemade confetti can be a really good thing. And I wasn't letting him out to play alone in the front yard, where he often picks up handfuls of mulch which he throws the air pretending it's confetti. And really, I just want a little uninterrupted time to go over whatever new and exciting thing Saxon has for Pixie and myself on any given day...so I said, "Sure! Here's the paper!"



Wombles had the crayons, and soon he and Bud had a symbiotic relationship where he colored the paper and then Bud cut it up into little bits of confetti.


Wombles had an advisory role, as well.



This smirk says so much about what Bud was feeling right about this time. "Yeah, I know making confetti is a lot of work...I'll never let them know I actually like it, or they'd ask me to do it all the time."



Serious business.


I did make him get right down from the chair, I'll have you know. That's dangerous, for goodness' sake!

And Bud really did keep up his end of the bargain: he swept up a good percentage of the confetti he made. I didn't realize he was so motivated. I didn't realize how he was motivated.

I would soon find out. And our playset slide would never be the same.

The "near the mess" was not referring to Pixie, by the way. I was talking about the confetti. More to come.


By the way, I survived leading our Bible study on Matthew 19 today. It felt like a slow moving train wreck, but I'll trust that what I perceive as reality and that which is actually real are not necessarily the same (are necessarily not the same? Often, anyway). Both the Pharisees and the Rich Young Ruler came to Jesus with questions, thinking they already knew the parameters with which they were working. In his infinite love and wisdom, Jesus went about setting them straight. I'm pretty sure I'm not aware of everything that's going into this, too; and so while I can try really really hard, I'm pretty sure that I'm called to be faithful and to love Jesus, and leave him to work a lot of these things out.

Tomorrow: MUD!

Lazy Winter Days

In honor of the snowpocalypse, or snowmaggedon, or whatever-you-call-it that's happening three time zones from here, I thought I'd share what we've been doing. Granted, these were taken on Thursday, and Snowdzilla didn't attack until Friday, from what I can gather from facebook photos. And nevermind that we've had rain while everyone else has been snowed in, or that I've worn socks for almost a straight week. (What is the weather coming to??). If you are snowed in, just consider these little snapshots a reminder of what green looks like--and a reminder that there WILL be spring again! (Oh, how I needed that back in the day...).

During recess on Thursday, I told the children that they had to go outside. HAD to. Tuvieron que. So Pixie scooped up her book and headed to the patio.



Bud found a ?Windmill? What are they called again? Pinwheel? And let'er rip:




Wombles favored the swings for his recreation:


(I love that he has figured out a way to swing by himself! Yessss!)

Here, he is letting me know what was wrong with the RED swing (?).


"See how happy I am swinging in the blue swing? Keep nassssty red swingses."



Naturally, it was only a matter of time until these two seemingly idyllic worlds collided.




Who knew? Wombles thought it was HILARIOUS to swing into a pinwheel so that it smacked him in the face! Now, why didn't I think of that?


Clearly, I do not have sufficient testosterone levels to understand how awesome it can be to get whacked with a pinwheel. Or to whack with a pinwheel. Either one, really.



Awww, Mom. Quit with the analysis, already.


So I'll close for now, and wish warmth to you all. I'm blogging as I put off, delay, procrastinate working on Matthew 19. I'm teaching at our women's bible study on Tuesday, and am finding it incredibly easy to put off serious thinking on the subject. That last shot of Wombles pretty much says it for me, too.