Fall is Here

Fall being here generally means I can update my kid ages.  Indy turns 10 a few days after the first official day of fall, and then the 95-day stretch in between the beginning of kid birthdays and the end of kid birthdays is over.  June, July, August and finally, September, knocks 'em all out.

Like this:

Chaser turns 12.  12!!  Omg. 

He is too cool for home-baked cake.  Cheesecake Factory gets a visit. 

 Riley turns 5, and requests Red, White and Blue Rice Krispie treats for her friend celebration.  

RJ turns 3, big sis Indigo decorates his cake special with Thomas. 

She is pretty good with that icing pointy-thing. 

Indy turns 10. 

I have no cake pic because we took it with our other camera that I don't know how to get pics off of yet. 

So now we have fully upgraded - in 95 days, from 11, 9, 4 and 2 to 12, 10, 5 and 3.  I can stop stumbling over their ages now. 

Cross that off the list.  Done.  

Also somewhere in those 95 days (also mostly called summer, as Chase's birthday falls a day before Summer begins and Indy's 2 days after Fall begins, so yeah, summer), we did some other stuff.

The gardens produced for us.....

...and we ate well....

....and we made pickles, sweet and spicy, mmm, mmm, mmm!

The best-tasting potatoes ever!

This is called Plant-to-Mouth Gardening.

Cleaning and snipping green beans.

More cucumbers anyone??? 

Some people slept during local town fairs.  Don't worry, I ate his platter of delicious Polish fare, as to not be wasteful.

We threw in some school for good measure:

This tiny traveler hopped on a plane with her grandparents to visit her great-grandparents in SC.  

And this shaggy-headed tot scoured Pinterest for the perfect new 'do:

Lookin' cool, RJ!

We worked on the farmhouse.

Somehow I still end up like this before 7am on most days (view clock in background for proof)...

Soccer started for Riley in town and Chase out of town.  It wouldn't be nearly as much fun if they played in the SAME town, you know.

RJ still finds afternoon grocery shopping to be an ideal time for a nap. 

Let me explain this cart for a minute, lest we look bad - the Lunchable is for Riley, it's been explained that this is the only one she will ever get because they are fake and nasty (she heard about them and was curious, and for $2 I let her experience it), the Boston Market frozen meals are for my neighbor, who has a love affair with them and can't find them in his regular store anymore, and the Potato Chips are mine.  Because I deserve them, dammit.

Another nap in another store. 

I visited an allergist for the first time in, oh, 28 years.  I thought a few things might come up. 

Confirmed.  Nature hates me.  This here back of mine, which came up in less than a minute, caused quite a stir in the allergist's office, and I did not have to go the whole 20 minutes, because I was maxed out on everything in about 5 and they were starting to worry, standing by with epinephrine, and clipboards, they all had clipboards.  They brought interns in from another part of the hospital to have a gander at the Super-Allergic Patient in Room #2.  Glad I can be so helpful.  See that non-reactive spot on the left side?  That's feathers.  I can be around feathers, out of all the environmentals.  That's it.  Feathers.

Since my back was filled up, they hit my arm for some more.  This here's me reacting to the entire Farm, and some foods that I already suspected because they make my mouth super-itchy, like Avocado and Apples.  It was a fun time.  I'll post more about that adventure later, mostly because according to the test, I'm SEVERELY ALLERGIC TO PEANUTS.  Except I don't react and I eat peanuts all the time.  So, ha, take that all you Bumper Sticker Moms - I was right!  Most of you don't actually need to teach your kid to hassle Moms with Granola Bars that are in a 1-mile radius of them. 

And, more excitingly, we rode THOMAS! (I'm also not allergic to trains.  Good thing.)

Peep, Peep!

Teachers Can Tell

As September wraps up, and school all around the country, and maybe the world, has started up back in full force again, I can't help but wonder about what Teachers think that first month, as they're meeting their new classes every year.  Pooling together all my observations and considerations about types of parents, types of kids, types of families, I've come to a conclusion.

Teachers Can Tell. 

Teaching isn't a job people fall into, usually.  Especially in today's world.  People who want to be teachers have to work hard to get certified and pass tests to be actual teachers.  From having attended a University known as a "teaching college," meaning their education program is large and well known and therefore many, many students attend to become teachers, I know a lot of people who have become.... wait for it.... teachers.

I also know some who graduated, but couldn't pass the tests for the life of them.  It was surprising to me that all, not some, of these young people who couldn't pass the state tests (and some took it up to 10 times), went on to be hired as teachers at private schools.  Not just any private schools, the kind that market themselves to be Elite and Highly Academic and, you know, better than the rest.  It changed the way I think of private schools, forever.  So many people will tout private school as a "better" educational option than public schools.  I think there's a wide variability of factors to play into that, and it can't just be used as a blanket statement.  Personally, sending my kids to a private school will never be an option, since I now know all these people working for them who couldn't pass the teaching test, and second, contrary to popular belief, many (way too many) private schools aren't meeting their state minimums in many areas.

Enough about that.

The kind of person who becomes a teacher, (regardless of where they end up teaching) really must be an organized person.  Many, possibly most, probably identify as Type A Personality, and don't take offense to that at all, rather, they embrace it.  If they aren't those things, they are either really good at flying by the seat of their pants, or faking organization and Type A-ness.  That's "A-ness," not "Anus."  Geeez, Get your mind out of the gutter.

Teachers are smart.  Otherwise, they simply wouldn't become teachers.  I'm pretty convinced of this.  Although everyone, especially people who work in education, have got that story about that one teacher, you know the one, they're the biggest friggin' idiot in the world and no one knows how they even got their job...

But back to those Smart, Type A teachers.  They're generally not just smart, they're generally Very Intelligent, and sometimes Over Achievers.  All in a good way, of course.

And so, that's how They Can Tell.

My conclusion is that Teachers Can Tell, usually on the first day of school, and most absolutely by the last day of the first week of school, what every kid's home life is like.  Maybe not 100%, but a pretty darn good idea.

For instance, They Can Tell who plays too many video games, and who lives in a house where the TV is always on.  The younger the age group, the easier it is to tell, I'll bet.  These kids generally act like Jackasses and use language and phrases that doesn't come from anywhere else but video games and TV that they probably shouldn't be watching.

They Can Tell who has parents who yell and scream and call them names, based on their interactions with other children.  These kids are also acting like Jackasses.

They Can Tell which children are just fixtures in their parents' homes, told to go play on the iPad, or go in another room, and stay off the furniture and don't touch ANYTHING.

They Can Tell who gets proper attention from their parents and who doesn't, just by the kid's behaviors and interactions, and most importantly, how they interact with the teacher, the adult.

They Can Tell, at snack or lunchtime, which families make an effort for nutrition.  I babysat a kid once who opened his lunchbag one day, we collectively counted his grams of sugar, as they had just learned about this in school, he had 159 grams of sugar in his lunch!!  And his teacher was supposed to try to teach him after consuming that??  Similarly, even if teachers are not in the lunchroom, I'll bet They Can Tell which kids had an unruly amount of sugar or simple carbs just by how they act after lunch.

They Can Tell which children have parents who are pushovers, or who just don't care enough to follow through with consequences or even with setting boundaries in the first place.  Teachers have to tag these kids early and make extra effort in enforcing the school rules, as often these kids have never had anyone to do that for them before.

They Can Tell which kids come from families who may not be perfect, but who are stable and put a great deal of emphasis and effort on supporting their children's education.  A possibly unfortunate truth in public education is that since these children have the proper support at home, the teacher generally is forced to allocate much more time and effort for children in other situations, who need it considerably more, leaving the most well-adjusted kids to have less of the teacher's time and attention.

They Can Tell which ones are Firstly's.  A Firstly is my term for a kid who is the firstborn, and for all intensive purposes, is currently an Only Child, but is also young enough that it is likely the case that a sibling just hasn't been made yet, or the sibling is a young enough baby to not be affecting the parent's attention on the Firstly yet.  Firstlys, especially in today's world where it seems like every new parent is handed a free Helicopter on their way out the hospital door, are tough kids for teachers in the younger grades, as they are now in a situation where they are suddenly not the center of attention.  There are not puddles of extended family clapping for them for doing typical, everyday things.  There is no one in the classroom taking video of them writing their name for the 57th time and sharing it on social media so friends and family can "ooh" and "aaah" over it.  Besides these poor, unknowing children waiting for approval and applause after every scissor cut and glue paste they perform, they don't know what to do without all that Helicopter Prompting.  The teacher doesn't stand over them, stooped down to be near their size and in a sing-song voice tell them everything they need to be doing.  Without a personal trainer by their side to deliver these kind of prompts, like, "Do that thing you do!!" and "Sing the ABC song again!" and "Show me how you do that!"  a Firstly is surely just lost.  But, have no fear.  Most Teachers can handle these Firstlys wonderfully, and hopefully by the end of the year, these kids will realize that other people exist in the universe and not every question is directed at just them.

They Can Tell when Mom or Dad did that book report for little Peyton or Finn.  There was a time when I attended a Book Report presentation in Chase's 2nd grade class.  The Dad with the video camera?  Whose son walked in the room in a full cardboard box robot costume, complete with electric lights and sound?  Right.  He fooled no one.  We all smiled, but we all knew who made that robot.  I mean, come on.

I'm sure there are many other half-witty, semi-sarcastic, super-judgey categories that I can make up here, but since I've got to get back to teaching my own collection of kids, we'll leave it at this.

Mostly, this is meant to be funny, mostly to people like Teachers, or people like me who like categorizing attributes and making informed guesses on the social dynamics and environments of others.  

All the compliments to Teachers are meant to be taken as 100% non-sarcastic and real, since Teachers really are a special subset of humans that do far more in their typical day than most people could ever know.

And that part about today's Firstlys.  Totally true.  So much praise for so little, time will tell just how much damage that will do.  Now let me get back to putting my kids down and making sure they know how non-special and completely ordinary they are.....  

Me Vs. Junie B

My kids are readers.  Some slightly more than others, one particularly earlier than the others, but they are all readers, and even RJ is at the point where he's memorized his books.

If there is one type if thing that is consistently cluttering up my car, the living room, the couches, the kitchen table, the island, the bedroom floors and the beds, it's a book, or more like many books.  It's exasperating.  

Chase is (finally) onto books that are large and take several days to read, so he's now in the world of keeping track of his one active book.

But the girls, oh my.  They take armloads of books to the car while I'm busy potty-ing their young brother or grabbing my purse.  When we get home from wherever we went, they're usually helping get whatever we bought in the door, and no one, including me, remembers to go back out and collect the mounds of books.  Until we get in the next time, of course, tripping over books and books and books.

Once a week, the girls' room is declared a disaster area.  There'll be some toys out, but it's 85% books.  Nearly every book has been pulled off the shelves, and they've read every one.  Yes, I could teach them to put each one back, every time they're finished, but you know what?  Especially in the case of Riley, I'm okay with her making a pile, and rolling through it, reading and reading, and truth be told, most of the books taken out are by her.  At the rate she's reading, I'd rather not interrupt her.  On the day that we clean up books each week, and by "we" I mean "they," the girls have learned to sort by size, orient them the right way, and get them nicely back on the shelves.  In the meantime, I can live with the mess of books.  In fact, I'll consider a blessing for the moment.

But let's get my point.  My mother already knows this about me, but here it is, out in the open.  I don't usually mind what they pick up to read, and for the most part, what's in our house and available to kids is appropriate. But...

I can't stand Junie B. Jones. 

I forget exactly where we got all the books from, in fact, come to think of it, maybe it was my Mom who had picked them up somewhere, and maybe that's why I felt the need to tell her that I couldn't stand Junie B.  But other than that, our main sources of books are hand-me-downs from people with older kids or yardsales.  And somehow we ended up with a shit-ton of Junie B. Jones.  Indy and Chase had started reading them (well underneath their reading level, but new books are new blood in this house) long before I cracked one open to have a look.  The first few pages were amusing, and then, I just couldn't handle it.  I closed it and looked at the front cover.  It seemed like it should be just another innocent children's book.  If it's written in the perspective of a 5 year old, then one can assume it's generally intended for that age group, yes?

The first thing that is blatant in these books is that Junie talks like an under-educated 3 year old, the kind that comes from a family where the adults basically ignore the kids and so the kids never learn how to speak properly.  We, in this house, can't even bring ourselves to read it as its written.  No way no how are we treating this like just another kids' book.

Second, Junie is an asshole.  She is rude, she yells considerably too much, and she obviously hasn't ever been taught by anyone to hold her opinion, let alone wait her turn, not interrupt, or use someone's name correctly.  I am failing, wholeheartedly, to understand why ANYONE, parent or teacher, would let a child read this. If I met Junie out in public, say at a playground, and she started barking at my kids, well, she and I would be having a conversation, that's for sure.

So that's it.  Me Vs. Junie B.  I think she sucks, I'm appalled that the publisher ever published one book, let alone an entire series.  55 million copies sold of a series based on a childish misbehaved asshole kid?  I'm not the only one who feels this way, there are a whole lot of other intelligent-sounding people who voice their opinions on Junie in articles and blogs.

In our deep cleaning efforts here at home, we keep finding one or two stowaway Junie books, and they go immediately into a trash bag for the thrift store, although I do wonder if I have a social responsibility to make sure they don't get passed on to another kid, ever...

Goodbye and Good Riddance and stay out of my house, Junie B!!