Author Archives: metamegan

>My Son, My Son, The Younger One

>Poor Jack, in all this excitement and stress about kindergarten, there has been nary a post about Jack and his many accomplishments.

He now eats crackers:

That’s really such a short lived milestone because after one, you realize how disgusting they are.

He pulls up to standing, and as you can see, has three teeth on top:

He looks cute is his fall wardrobe:

But he hates last year’s winter wardrobe because he’s like Ralphie from A Christmas Story, combined with a turtle on it’s back:

And the biggest news is this: He said Dada. Dave was playing peekaboo with him through the car window while we waited for our carry out pizza at the start of our camping trip (we camp in style) and when Dave disappeared Jack said, “Dada!” and looked for him out the window.

And at dinner tonight he made something that vaguely resembled the sign for “more”. He hasn’t been too keen on learning the signs because he has found that screaming at the top of his lungs is an easier and very effective way to get more food.

>First Day

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I had everything perfectly organized. But I should have known it would all go horribly awry when Jack woke up (again) at 5:30. He was supposed to wake up at 6:30: after I had done my knee exercises, but in time to be changed, fed, and dressed before Luke got up. So I made Dave go in and get Jack to sleep again, which he did. (Now if only that would occur to me at 1:30 am.)

The next problem was that Dave set Luke’s alarm to radio instead of beeps. Then Luke bumped his knee, then he became aware that he had a cough. All things that would be cause for angst on a normal day, but today culminated with him pulling up a chair to the toilet and preparing to barf. Poor boy, the thought of school didn’t give me stomachaches until at least 3rd grade.

He didn’t want to eat the pancakes that I made, but he managed to choke one down. Then I remembered about the wee one. Jack! By now it was 7:15 or so and I still needed to get Jack fed, and dressed in his coordinated madras plaid shorts that I had ironed in anticipation of the front porch picture. So I woke Jack up, fed him, took off his pajamas and realized we were within minutes of inaugural arrival of the school bus. Cancel the group shot, hand the baby over to Dad. Run out the door with the shoes and wait on the porch with the camera for Luke to cross the threshold. Snap photo of frowning boy, only to notice later that Dad was in the background, shirtless, in bike shorts. Plan to put photo in baby book anyway.

I was literally dragging Luke down the driveway until it occurred to me to offer a piggy back. We piggy backed down the driveway and turned towards the bus stop where Luke saw all the kids and slid off my back and started walking. We got to the bus stop at 7:29, the exact time the bus was supposed to arrive. I confessed to the parents there that I planned to bike to school to meet Luke when he got off the bus and the other parents said they planned to do the same, or already had a spouse on the way. We waited. And waited. Finally the bus arrived at 7:45. Great, what if we were the last stop? Hopped on bikes and pedaled away hoping to beat the bus, which we did, easily.

From there it was no big deal. Luke got off the bus and got a bracelet that marked him as a bus rider so the teachers would know where to send him at the end of the day, and we walked to the playground. Luke was pretty stoic and he just stood next to me, not letting me take his picture until it was time to go in.

We said our good byes and he walked in the door.

Another mom hugged me and asked how I was doing and I teared up a little, but pulled it together.

After school he was all smiles and full of “You know what? Guess what!” which was good because I quickly wasted two of my five questions:

“How was it?” “Good.”
“Did you eat your lunch?” “Yes.”

Information gleaned:

* We went on a search for the gingerbread man! And we went in the office, to the gym, the music room, the library, and back to our room! And I think the search for the gingerbread man was just a way to give us a tour of the school.
* We went to see Coach L. He’s the teacher of maybe P.T.? Yeah, P.E.
* I had to go to the bathroom and I didn’t say anything, but then the teacher said, “Bathroom time!” And the same thing happened right when I felt thirsty! It was time for a drink of water!
* Everyone colored on the gingerbread man, but I didn’t color anything I just wrote my name.
* Mikey took the rocket I was playing with, and then I started playing with his, and I put a guy in it, but then Mikey took that one back. I guess he wanted a rocket that had a guy in it.
* There is a girl named Clara in my class.
* I had lunch with Kobie and Kaj and I played with Elsa on the playground a little.
* The kids that didn’t bring their lunch had pizza!
* We had nap time, and I took a green mat, but when I laid down on it it was so tiny! Only my body and arms fit. And we didn’t nap, it was just quiet time
* The teacher has a disco ball, but it doesn’t hang from the ceiling, it sits on the floor and that’s the light we use during quiet time
* I rode on the bus!
* When I say “guess what” you always say “what” but you are supposed to guess!

We retook the first day of school picture at the end of the day, and that worked out well.


So we survived, but considering the amount of effort that went into that one day, I’m not quite sure how we’ll pull it off on a daily basis. I supposed I can skip the pancakes, and the photo ops.

>Did You Ever Have One Of Those Dreams?

>You know that feeling, when the alarm, or the sunshine, or something in the night is slowly waking you up, but you are in the middle of a dream, and you know you’d be so frustrated if it was interrupted? The outside world is seeping in, but you try to block it out and sink further into your subconscious towards the dream resolution that is right around the corner. Maybe you are about to win the 100 meter dash, or set a record in the butterfly. Or maybe your Olympic dream is more along the lines of rhythmic gymnastics with Michael Phelps.

Well, when my baby was trying to wake me around 1:30 am, I resisted. I just couldn’t bring myself to comfort or nourish my little child because I had something in my dream that I needed to finish. See, I was dreaming about emptying the dishwasher, and I didn’t want to be interrupted until it was done.

>How About 5?

>Alarm is set, clothes are laid out, pancakes are pre-made to be heated up in the morning, lunch is packed, backpack labeled, lunch box labeled.

Still on the to to list: Fill out Parent/Student worksheet, charge camera, get after school care (oops), label shoes?

At bedtime I said, “Try to remember some stuff that happens tomorrow because I am sure I’ll have a million questions.”

Luke replied, “A million? A thousand? A hundred? Ten? Five? Two? How about five? Can you try to only ask me five questions tomorrow?”

I guess I should be lucky he was so generous. I may have ended up only being allowed two questions.

>As The Worm Turns

>In college we had a few different and hilarious (to us) voice mail messages. For a while, our voice mail said:

You have reached 1-900-909-WORM.
If you’d like to talk to a worm, press 1.
To listen to worms talk, press 2.

This is when I was a hippie granola botany major and learning all about vermiculture. We planned to open a microbrewery, and we’d have a bunch of benches with places for people to sit, and the benches would be worm bins where we composted all the hops and barley. Our first beer was going to be called The Great Wide Chasm Worm Stout. Ah, Tony’s Tavern, so many plans were hatched there. Well, I gave all those plans up for an exciting career in administering databases, but I did just purchase a big bucket of worms from the Colorado Worm Man.

We had a worm bin for the first year after college, and it was great. Worms ate all our leftovers. But then we moved into a really small place, and then a slightly bigger place, and then a much bigger place, and as of yesterday, I can cross “start worm composting again” off my list of things I have been meaning to do for the last 12 years.

Love to cross stuff off that list.

>Congratulations Class of 2008

>Graduation was today, and I found myself simultaneously getting teary-eyed and scoffing at the concept of getting teary-eyed at a preschool graduation. But, you know what? Luke spent longer at this school/daycare than he will in high school. All the major baby milestones were shared with the staff there and, well, they have helped us raise Luke. I have trusted them with my first born. I didn’t read the card from the director yet, because I knew it would get me. So tears were shed, but not by me. Poor Luke split his lip right before the ceremony, and I think he had a harder time recovering than he normally would, because he was a little emotional too.

As much as we love our crunchy granola daycare, I could do a whole post about how to survive the potlucks. In a nutshell, I get the fried chicken from king soopers, some sort of pre-washed delicious fruit from the produce section, and this year I splurged on all natural chips and really unnatural french onion dip. It’s important to get the right mix of all natural/organic foods and really unhealthy food that people will wish they were eating too. Oh, and Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Back to the party: These three go way back. Way, way back. It seems like just last summer that they were throwing down in front of the outdoor screening of Karate Kid. Yeah, it was last summer. I taught them this oldie, but goodie, courtesy of my good friend Krista: Cheers Big Ears, Here’s the to Good Years!

And I fear that if I blink, we’ll be at the Congratulations Preschool Class of 2013.

>Kindergarten Assessment

>Luke had his assessment today at the kindergarten and we found out he is in the afternoon class with the new teacher. No daycare kids, but two neighbors are in his class. He didn’t share to much about the assessment, but he did say, “She asked me to count and I counted to 20. I thought about counting to 30 but then I figured it would take too long.”

Tonight is the pre-school graduation – so I am sure I will have pictures to share later.

>Kindergarten Anxiety

>I remember your first day of kindergarten. We walked all the way there, and I had John in the stroller. Wait, was John born yet? No, it must have been Beth in the stroller. And we walked, walked, walked all those blocks and as we got within a block of the school you just put your hand on the stroller. And I thought, “Oh, she just needs a little reassurance.” And that was all, just a hand on the stroller and then everything was fine.

*** My first day of kindergarten as told by my mom ***

All I remember was that my mom had made my name tag and that it was much more beautiful than anyone else’s name tag. And that when I walked out at the end of the day I had no idea where I was supposed to go. I just sort of looked around and thought, “huh.” Then the tide swept me to the other side of the circular drive where all the moms, including my mom, were waiting. And I must have said something about not knowing where to go because I remember my mom saying, “I told you I’d be right here.” And thinking, “I am sure that is right, but I don’t remember that at all.”

Luke seems ready, and not worried about school, but you can all thank me for sparing you the details about the stress I have been experiencing on his behalf. Or maybe not, it could be a future blog post once school has started and I can look back and laugh about it all!

And I’m too tired for the redneck roadtrip post tonight, but here is a teaser:

>Grandma Takes a Fall

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My mom plays hard. I think she and Luke were playing non-stop for 3 days in our basement. They played pickle in the middle with Jack, some wii bowling, pretend restaurant, and I really have no idea what else. Since I was working and missing out on all the fun, I decided to take Wednesday afternoon off to play, and to take them to the pool. And not just any pool, but the fed-by-artesian-springs, since 1905, Eldorado Springs Pool. Here is the thing, my mom does not come to Colorado for the scenery, she comes to see her grandchildren. She doesn’t even pretend that she is here to see me, so the fact that I was making Luke and Grandma stop playing and go to the pool was really just something they tolerated.

Luke and Jack and Grandma and I put on our swimsuits and headed to the pool while Grandpa settled down for a nice summer’s nap. It was a hot day, but brrr, that water was cold. Way too cold for baby Jack. So I took one for the team and sat in the shade and held baby Jack while Grandma got in the pool with Luke. In the shallow end there is a little corner with a little metal fence around it. They call that the baby pool. On the other side of the fence is a ledge for sitting or jumping into the slightly deeper water. Apparently, the baby pool side is a different depth than the ledge side. At least that is what Grandma said after she tried to go from the ledge to the baby pool, and tripped and fell, landing with an “AAAAAHHHH!” and a little splash. A mom and dad were trying to help her out while Luke and I stared with our mouths gaping open, and the life guard was saying, “NO Splashing IN THE BABY POOL.” And my mother was laughing and telling the bystanders that she was OK, and turning the life guard and saying, “Are you talking to me? I wasn’t splashing, I fell in! I’m a grandma!” He was not, in fact, talking to her.

I finally decided to be a good daughter and let her get out and hold the baby and warm up while I got in. I’m not a “just jump in” type of person. More of a “eeeh” “oooh” “brrr” “eeek” person who gets in 1 inch at a time, suffering all the while. But that day, I thought, “what the heck? I’ll do a cannonball off the diving board.” As I was walking to the diving board I was thinking, “Huh, how long since I’ve been on a diving board? 19 years? 20?” I almost chickened out until I noticed the kid in front of me in line had only one leg. OK, I can do this. And at the end of the board as I was jumping, I sort of remembered that I have a knee injury, shoulder pain, back issues, and various and sundry other problems that maybe make the quick cannonball movement, and powerful cannonball landing an ill advised maneuver. But I was already in the air, so I did a half-hearted attempt at a cannon ball and then swam to the side to confer with the judge. And Luke said, “That was the worst cannonball I have ever seen.” (Ironically, I am watching Olympic Swimming as I type this.)

After a while, we left, and crossed the little bridge over the tiny creek from the pool to the parking lot. Grandma declared the view magnificent and if I had just agreed and walked to the car, I would be $7.00 richer, and Grandma wouldn’t have those two new gray hairs. But I thought, “Hey! Let’s drive through Eldorado Canyon State Park! And maybe go for a hike!” My mom doesn’t like heights, or curvy roads, so what could be better than a canyon? You are at bottom, so no heights to worry about! The road through the park is about a mile long, so no time to get car sick! The speed limit is 15 mph. I drove 5 mph, which apparently still made it seem like we were careening towards the little creek. Let’s just say we didn’t make it to the visitors center. As soon as I could turn around I did, because Grandma was curled into the fetal position saying, “No, go on! I’m fine! You just spent $7.00! I’m fineohmygodanothercariscominghowwillitevergetpastusturnaroundturnaround. No, I’m fine. Keep going.” I turned around without crashing into the creek. Of course, on the way back, I did make everyone go on a little hike with me. And everyone was happy when I went to work the next day.

Sorry Mom!

I shouldn’t tease, but I can’t help it. That is how I was raised. In fact, before my parents showed up, Luke said to me, “Mom, when Grandma and Grandpa are here, I don’t want you to tease me. Because Grandpa is going to be teasing me a lot. So I don’t want you to tease me. But it’s OK if Grandpa teases me.” So, basically, I was forced to tease my mom. So blame Grandpa!