Kinda Wish We Had Cable

Here is Jack modeling his Aquabats tee shirt and his new haircut. Don’t tell him I said he was “modeling,” I’ll get in trouble.

A little over a year ago we found out that the Aquabats were creating a children’s show and marketing it to television networks. We went to the website for the program and let Stella watch the clips. She was hooked. For weeks she was asking to watch “Yo Gabba Gabba on the computer.”

Silly puppets, simple lessons, basic color scheme, and Biz Markee. Seemed like a recipe for success to me. But I hadn’t heard much about it until this week. Apparently the show is now airing on Nick Jr. and Stella and I recommend that you give it a chance. Some of the guest stars are Elijah Wood and Tony Hawk.

It may remind you of the cartoons we used to watch when we were kids.

At the very least you can chuckle at the notion of Biz Markee on kid’s t.v.

Kudos to those of you who know the name Biz Markee.

We are Not Wallowing in our Loneliness

I found this one on my pillow after I got out of the shower this morning.

He gave this to his dad last weekend:

“I love it when you play with me. Anyway, meet me tonight right now. It’s gonna be fun!

This is the math half: 2-2 is 0. 10-10 is 0.

to DAD 2-1 is one. 10-1 is 9. Love Creed”

I found this taped to the wall above his bed.

“My birthday is on this so please don’t put it in the garbage.”

And several days ago we found this one on our refrigerator (I think he took a few notes from Fancy Nancy.)

Plan

From

Creed

Activities

Today!

Fun and free

Hey Robert, call Kim and get her to invite us to dinner.

(Translation: I want to go back to Utah please. Right now. Today. Bad.)

At first I thought it was just Jack. He is having a hard time making friends at school. We drop him off, and his shoulders slump, he stands on the fringes of the other students, kicks at the dirt. When the bell rings, he heaves a sigh and literally seems to drag himself in to class.

The only other new kid in his class is the kid who wears the helmet during recess. (P.S. He survived a car wreck in April, was in a coma until early August. It’s a miracle he’s back to school at all. Apparently he suffered severe brain injuries and the helmet is to protect his head from further injury. His injuries affected his balance which is why he has to wear what looks like a leash to and from school.)

Anyway, Jack says the kids in his class like to play WWF during recess. He didn’t know what that was and was feeling a little left out, so I let him watch some of it on television. He did not become a fan and can’t bring himself to want to play (slight swelling of mother’s pride).

Then he had to write a poem for school. It was autobiographical. Among his fears, (cliffs, poison, murderers) and his needs (food, family, love) he listed that he feels LONELY, smart, and happy. I talked to him about the poem and he said that he mostly feels lonely at school. Then we had a pretty sad incident in class on Friday whose details will not be published on the World Wide Interweb (I don’t want to start a smear campaign) suffice it to say he came home a very sad little boy.

Cut to: yesterday afternoon. Creed came to me in tears and presented me with the above note (yes, my son writes me lots and lots of notes). He cried and cried because he misses his cousins, his friends, his aunts and uncles and his grandparents. He was inconsolable. In his case, I think it was just a mood. Unlike Jack, there are lots of kids in the neighborhood his age, and he feels like all the kids in his class are his friends. Still, yesterday afternoon broke my heart.

And now it’s all starting to rub off on mama. I’ve been feeling quite nostalgic and homesick. This afternoon for instance. If we were back home, we’d be piling into the car to crash someone’s Sunday dinner. Aunt Kim (bar-b-que chicken with mashed potatoes, salad, fresh tomatoes, sliced fruit and dessert by Chelsea), or Linette (something delectable that Kate came up with and I got to help make if I’m lucky, then a movie in the theater room), or April (delicious pot roast, mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, fried rice and whatever else happens to be in the cupboard). I didn’t mean to take Sunday afternoons for granted, but I am afraid that I spent the last ten years doing just that.

I feel like we are all in the Swamps of Sadness and if we are not careful, we’ll be letting the Sadness of the Swamp get to us. And it’s my job, as the mama, to pull us all out of it. With dad’s help as far as his schedule as an intern will allow it, which is not much.

Mmmmmm, Cake Good

We celebrated Stella’s birthday on Friday. I think she had a good day. She received her Halloween costume (Snow White, Not homemade) and a winter coat (light green, also not homemade.) We still need to get her some shoes that are not sandals before the cold winter days, but for now I think we are safe. Creed made her a birthday crown that did not survive long enough for a picture and our next door neighbor gave her a little gift as well.

If we aren’t careful, this girl could get through life purely on her charm. If you haven’t met her, you may think this is a mother boasting, but if you know her, you have to admit that it’s fact. She’s a charmer.

She was also able to speak to various cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents on the telephone. She received a message on the answering machine from Bob’s folks and her cousins singing “Happy Birthday.” I swear, she has listened to it ten times every hour and every time she hears it she answers them “I love you too!” “It WAS my birthday! I’m three now!” (By the way, she says three, not free.)

Stuff I KNOW You've been Dying to Know

Creed on his first day of school: “There are tons and tons and Tons and TONS of rules!”

Jack on his first day of school: “There’s a kid in my class who has to wear a helmut during recess and his mom walks him to school on a leash.” Seems like a good idea to me.

Today, after Creed’s second day of school: “Jack’s teacher looks like my teacher. They look like Grandma Julie.” (both skinny, both blondes, go figure)

Their school is peanut free. This is kind of annoying for me. I use enough of my creative energy on my face to face time with the little rugrats. (By providing them with glitter and glue, paint, markers, colored rice, different baking crap, I mean crafts, string, sticks, straws, not to mention all of the creative ways in which I am forced to think of to say “no” over and over.) Now I have to get creative with their lunches, too? I guess don’t want some kid to go into anaphylactic shock because I was too lazy to think of some new source of protein in my kids’ lunch, but peanut butter sandwiches are so easy, and cheap, and easy. The only alternative, affordable sources of protein I can think of are tuna fish and hard boiled eggs. But when I picture them opening their lunches at the table, I imagine the other kids making a beeline from the lunchroom and their teachers fainting when they lean in to answer one of the little angels’ questions after lunch. Any suggestions? (I guess I could stick a mint in the bag.)

Also, the check engine light is on in our car.

And they still hugged me goodbye . . .

School doesn’t start until 8:55 here. If perfection is any better than that, I can’t imagine it. My hair was actually combed and I applied some mascara before we had to leave. Stella took a bath (first one in three days, so gross) and we all ate breakfast together (minus dad, who leaves for work around 5:30). All in all a lovely morning.

Their school isn’t like anything I’ve seen before. The classrooms for each grade open up to a central “living room” in which the different classes actually interact with each other. Walls can be moved and arranged at will. I’m excited to see how the teachers utilize this feature.

In the foyer of the school, we split: the third grade hall is in one direction, the first grade hall in another. Jack assured me he could find his classroom (we had been to the school earlier in the week to meet their teachers and orient ourselves) and so off he went.

But not before giving his ol’ mama a hug. I hope he never outgrows it. I know I never will.

When in Rome . . .

The invasion started weeks before its actual arrival. Billboards and radio ads announced the dates throughout the city. Barnes & Noble had tables of books on display dedicated to the event. Snippets of conversation overheard among the mallrats included discussion centered on what rides to which they were most looking forward and whether or not the new “apple fries” would live up to their hype.

That’s right, folks, I’m talkin’ about the Iowa State Fair.

I’m telling you, for a week and a half the State Fair was all anyone around here was talking about. We Iowans take our State Fair very seriously. The Fair is in the middle of August in 90+ degree weather and 90-98% humidity. Yet, the waiting list for a campground at the State Fair: 10 years.

I learned that we painstakingly map out our route through the fairgrounds days in advance. Since I am a newcomer, my neighbor went out of her way to pay a visit to the house and show me which were the exhibits I could skip and which were Must See. Not to miss: Iowa Pork Producers’ Pork Chop on a Stick, the Hyvee Children’s Garden, Babies on the Farm exhibit, the Tunnel of Love (that’s right people, we have an actual Tunnel of Love), the Honeybee exhibit, and the Grand Champion Cow, Pig, and Lamb.

Truthfully, we had a great time.