Archive for the ‘Schmolland’ Category

Djuuuur, djuuur

Do you know that that is?  That is the sound of Bub helping the Bean fix a ‘hole’ in their bunkbeds (a knot in the wood).  Both of them wet from showers, one in pajamas, one rejecting clothing (can you guess which?).  She requested his assistance, the bucket of plastic “tools” between her legs.  She had the “scissors” which her brother informered her were actually flat nose pliers.  He picked up the screw driver, making that noise, pretending to fix the hole for her.  I looked on in amazement.  I wanted bedtime to happen, we were in a groove, and they’d taken a detour, but I just could not bring myself to divert them back to our routine.  In that moment, in my awe, there was just nothing else in the world more important.


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Today I was the “Celebrity Reader” for the Bub’s class.  Well, really the whole second grade.  It involved bringing in a book of your choice and reading it to the grade, with a follow up of questions the kids ask about various things.  It was strangely anxiety provoking.


It all went well, Bub sat proudly next to me while I read this book.  Mmmm… lima beans.  Bub called on his friends as they raised their hands and asked me questions from a prescribed list.  I think we both did alright.

And then we had a sweet little Asperger’s moment.

We were walking from the other second grade room back into his room after we were done.  A little boy from the other class said “Bub?”  Bub didn’t hear him, he was snuggled up to me and focused on getting back to his classroom.  “Hey Bub, that boy is talking to you”.  Bub turns an about face, says in his flat Bubness “oh… what?”.  The little boy says “hey Bub, do you want to be my friend?”.  Bub says, in his cheery voice he uses when he knows he’s supposed to be nice, but he’s not sure what the situation really is… “sure”.

We turn and continue walking to his class and he says to me “huh… that was a weird question.”  And of course I think, yes, it is kind of weird question to adults, but kids ask each other those things all the time.  I asked if he knew the boy’s name and he did.  Then I suggested “well, maybe you could play together at recess sometime?” to which Bub gave me his confused but open hearted smile and said “yeah”.

Yeah.  And the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day.

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I’m working on getting the Bean to sleep in her own bed… preferably all night long.  Hey, I can dream.  So tonight we did some ‘pre-planning’ where I told her that our routine would be reading picture books up in Bub’s bed, then going down in her bed for a little chapter book reading, then momma would lay in bed with her and we’d go to sleep.  She seemed to be on board.

Books in Bub’s bed went well but when we transitioned to her bed, she wasn’t really into Pippi Longstocking.  She read her own books and stayed in bed, which was acceptable.  But when it came time to go to sleep… “I lay in momma’s bed?”.  Um… that wasn’t the plan.  So I let her fuss a little while I put the fan on and helped Bub cover up.  Then we laid down.  I sang for a while which was not cutting it, she was still bellowing (if you heard me you might not blame her).

Then the Bean stopped crying and I heard a little bird song from the top bunk.  Bub had started singing.  First I thought it was his raisin song (he has an entire song he made up professing his devotion to raisins).  But then I heard… “Go to sleep my love… go to sleep my love… we’ll wake up in the morning… “.  Bub has a beautiful voice, really.  And the Bean stayed quiet.  And then the Bean was asleep.  Bub sang her to sleep.  We were both surprised… and so proud.

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Tig and I split the kids 50/50 (mostly).  This means every other night the kids are here.  I’m not so keen on this schedule anymore, but Tig refuses to switch, so… yeah.  Anyway, Saturday when the kids were here until 5pm it wasn’t pretty.  Bub was off, WAY off, the lead suspect is yeast.  There was lots of yelling, tears, drama, ‘break’ taking, whining, and eventually some wrestling into the car to force him to go play at the park (silly no?).

Tonight was happily different.  I wasn’t sure what to expect considering daylight saving time and all.  There was some wrestling and squabbling while I made dinner (roasted potatoes, venison and kale – guess who at all the kale?) and after picking over their dinner, they were off to play.  Bub was hovering in the kitchen starting to whine of boredom when I shooed him into the living room to play doctor (they’d been playing it at Tig’s before they came over).  “But we have no stethoscope like at Mommy’s!”… well says Momma, find something that looks like it could be a stethoscope.

Now, usually this is met with “but I can’t find anything! there is no stethoscope!  can we go get it at mommy’s?”.  But that’s not what I heard.  I heard some quiet, then playing.  Both of them.  With each other.  Pretending.  BOTH of them.

And you know you’ve been heard by your kids when you hear them talking about ‘medicine’ and then ‘it might taste yucky, it’s flax seed oil and vitamin c’.  Such simple joys.

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Last year, Bub was ready to take the bus.  I wasn’t.  Peanuts and all that jazz, you know.  I held him off all year last year.  This year though, Tig put her foot down and refused to trek him to school every day when there is a perfectly fine giant yellow vehicle that comes right to our neighborhood to take him there.  Fine then.

A meeting was had, trainings on injecting the small child with epinephrine were done and today, Bub boarded the bus for his first trip to school.  He was a gem about it, perhaps a titch nervous.  When the 15 or so kids started piling on the bus, we nudged him along and he held back.  “Can I get on last?”… “sure Bub… are you nervous?”… “no… so you can take a picture of me.”  Ah, my sweet sweet boy.

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No training wheels!

I wasn’t sure I’d ever see this. His anxiety about the training wheels was HUUUUGE and that whole business about physical ventures not really being his thing. Every time he said “I can’t”, 5 minutes later, he did. (No tweaking about the helmet, as soon as he considered riding on pavement the helmet was slapped right on his little noggin’).

And ride on the pavement he did (another “I caaaaan’t, I’ll fall!!!).

Oh yes, he did that too.

Most importantly though, he got back on and kept riding.

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