That's my new name for RePete. No matter what we call it, he calls his ass a but-tock (complete with that little separation.)
~R
That's my new name for RePete. No matter what we call it, he calls his ass a but-tock (complete with that little separation.)
~R
It is with mixed emotions that I post about the end of the school year.
Yesterday, we visited with friends and heard about award ceremonies and I was shown all the awards that my kids will not be getting since we home school. I thought about making some for them, like perfect attendance. Everyone who home schools gets perfect attendance, right. But I didn't make any. Maybe next year.
Today, I passed the high school on the way home and saw kids driving away from school for the last time this year. Everyone was laughing and I imagine the ones that are seniors must feel...exhilarated. Do you remember that day? Your last day of high school? Signing yearbooks, laughing, crying, hugging. It was like the air more filled my lungs when I stepped out of that building for the last time. I can still feel it even 20 years later. (gasp)
Tomorrow, I'll be over the nostalgia part. Because tomorrow the parks and museums will be crowded. The zoo, the mall, and the beach will be crowded. And the pool will be crowded. One of the benefits of home schooling, and one that came as a surprise bonus, was being able to go to any of those places during the school day and have it all to ourselves. No waiting in long lines or not being able to see my own children in the sea of laughing faces.
So here in Casa de Robinella, we look forward to the next school year. At least I do. What are your summer plans?
~R
Okay, so I am going through all the photos I took during our vacation. I'm planning to print the photos that are most representative of our time and scrapbook them.
However comma Pete has entered the goofy photo stage. My nephew did it around this age and still does come to think of it and now Pete has started. Why oh why do they have to get goofy? Or more importantly, why oh why do they have to mess up every photo taken.
Pete has three main poses. Allow me to demonstrate.
There's this one...
And this one...
And finally this...
I totally plan to show all my scrapbooks to the future ladies in his life. That is if he ever gets over this.
~R
One of the things we do to ensure happy healthy children, well healthy at least, is to limit dyes in their foods. Actually, we just don't do dyes at all. Until vacation rolled around.
While at Universal Studios, Pete and BN rode Twister (awesome, btw) and RePete and I looked around. What caught his eyes was a huge container of blue frozen stuff. I decided, what the heck, poor guy has been riding around in the stroller since these rides are too big for him and he needs a little fun. So I bought him one. He was tickled pink (or blue in this case).
He slurped and slurped ... and slurped. Then he looked at me with the biggest grin baring all his teeth. I immediately belly laughed and pulled out the camera.
Friday I asked the boys to be extra good because I really needed to clean the house and start packing and Pete said they would be good and then:
Pete: But we can only be good every other day.
Me: Why not every day?
Pete: (sounding all exasperated) That's just too much pressure!
Pogo has generously offered to entertain my kids today for four hours so I can get last minute things done or just plain sit on my ass, whichever I fancy. I'll probably run a few errands and then head back over and veg at her house. We don't get to see each other as much these days and I refuse to miss out on spending time with her.
After Pogo's, the boys and I will have a little dinner, ride the scooters, build a skate park for their Techdecks where I'll show them how to do fakies, ollies and grinds (um, right) and then go to bed early. BN won't be home until about midnight and we are leaving at 5am on Sunday.
Yah, Happy Mother's Day to me. 12 hours in the car.
Actually it should work out great. You know how these new-fangled cars are these days. All the gadgetry. We've got videos to watch and Gamecube to play and the old standbys of books to read and pictures to draw. 400 bathroom stops. Loads of things to occupy our time.
So I hope all you Mothers (and I meant that to mean moms, of course, not the other thing my four year old keeps saying) have a most wonderful Mother's Day!
See you next week,
~R
Yeah, I know it's supposed to be WAR! But once I typed sex in all caps the song just jumped into my head and it totally relates to this post, if you know the words...okay, okay I'll keep singing just so you know.
...huh, what is good for? Absolutely nothing.
Minivan conversations with an 8 year old.
Pete: Mom? What is a sex?
Mom: A sex? The answer to a query. (good job mom on trying to confuse the hell out of him)
Pete: (persistent little thang) No Mom. What is a sex?
Mom: Okay so like you are filling out a form and it asks, name, dob, sex and the answer is male or female.
Pete: Well, that's not what Cameron said.
Mom: Well, why don't you tell me what Cameron said and maybe I can clear things up a bit.
Pete: Cameron said it means kissing.
Mom: Okay.
Pete: and laying down naked on the bed.
Mom: Yes, it can mean those things. (daydreaming about quickie this morning)
Pete: (snapped out of daydream) Who does that?
Mom: Married people who love each other very much.
Pete: Have you and dad ever done that? Naked on the bed?
Mom: (shit. backed myself in a corner) Well, yes we have.
Pete: Ewwww. Grossss. Naked? Why did you do that?
Mom: I've answered your question about sex. That's all for now. Sex is private.
Pete: Well I hope I never have sex.
~R