Preschoolers in the Dairy Department

On Thursday, Mam's "innovative" preschool class took a field trip. The rest of the kids at school are never lucky enough to go on field trips, so this was a big deal. They got to go for a behind-the-scenes tour of the grocery store across the street. But first, the kids got to play in Mam's favorite area, the "far yard".
Here's Mam with her partner, Aeryn. How cool is that spelling? Of course, she'll be spelling it a lot, so hopefully she thinks it's cool too.I wonder how much the janitorial staff likes it when the tour guides ask all the kids to feel the cold freezer doors with their grubby little fingers.Mam enjoyed the dairy section where so many of her favorite foods reside. The kids got a demonstration of the box crusher in the back and the freight elevator. The guy in the seafood area even let them all touch one of the live lobsters.The kids got lots of treats on the way. Mam ate three (three!) mini sausages. Are you kidding? That's meat, you know! They got grapes in the produce department, cheese in the deli department and brownies at the bakery. I can't say I get really excited about the grocery story, but it was fun to see the kids all excited about it.

Splitting up

What seems like a long, long time ago, I remember having a conversation with a friend (yes, you, MommieN) about how with a girl and a boy it seems like weekends would often be relegated to Mommy going with the little girl to do one thing and Daddy taking the little boy to do something else. I wasn't sure I bought into this idea and for the most part, we don't do that very often, but last weekend was an exception.

Mam had a birthday party to attend at a pumpkin patch on the coast. And because I really wanted to go, but knew there wasn't a chance, I talked Daddy into buying tickets for the last Giants game of the season and taking Smunch to see his idol, Tim Lincecum, pitch for the last time this year against the rival Dodgers. Something about Smunch's love of baseball has sort of rekindled my own love of the game. Let's just say I was jealous and leave it at that. I was thrilled that Smuch was getting to go.

Daddy and Smunch set off early, leaving Mam and me to run a few errands. Coincidentally, we even saw their train go by as we waited at the train tracks on our way to Costco. Cool.

Before we left for the party, Daddy sent us some photos of their vantage point in the stadium.And Smunch's opinion of said vantage point.A beautiful day at the ballpark. Jealous.

Shortly after lunch, Mam and I left for the coast. It was lovely here, but about halfway there, I could tell it was going to be socked in. I crossed my fingers, hoping that my propensity for being a slob and having a car full of crap would serve me well. My slovenly ways would keep us from freezing to death in a coastal pumpkin patch.

Naturally, I listened to the game on the radio. And when the traffic slowed to a crawl with at least 10 miles to go, I became a rabid Giants fan...the kind who screams in the car and hits the roof with her fist. I wanted so badly for Smunch to see his team win for a change. Doesn't seem like watching the Padres win should really count. And he really does love Lincecum. I wanted Lincecum to pitch well and have a chance at the Cy Young award that would really send Smunch over the moon. And I'm sure I had PMS because when the Giants finally scored the go-ahead run in the 8th inning...and we still hadn't reached the pumpkin patch...I was in tears.

Mam is doubtlessly scarred for life by this experience.

Fortunately, we finally made it to the birthday party, although we were half an hour late. We were still some of the first guests to arrive. Daddy forgot to take the new camera with him and the party included not only pumpkins, but pony rides, a bouncy house, train rides and run of the whole patch. So I took lots of cute photos. Although Mam had several friends there who she talked with and rode ponies with, she mostly did her own thing with Mommy.I admit to going back to the mommymobile for an extra sweater. I was cold. But I'll bashfully admit I also stuck the key in the ignition and turned on the radio just to make sure the Giants had won. So we had a fun day and met Smunch and Daddy for pizza on the way home.

Now that I think about it, we may have split up for the day. Mam was certainly into her party and I was definitely there with her, chatting and taking photos. But in the end, I'm not sure I wasn't there with the boys too...

The new camera

Those previous photos, of Smunch playing soccer, were all taken with our brand new little camera. I'm pretty happy with it. It's small. I can stick it in my pocket and it takes some great photos. Just for fun, here's another one.Nothing says Autumn at the Ryder household quite like our collection of garden spiders with their magnificent webs stretched between trees, bushes and posts all around the house.

Gooooooooal x 4

Every now and then, I'll mention that Smunch has some behavior issues. They're hard to pinpoint and hard to describe in a way that doesn't make him sound like every other six-and-a-half-year-old on the planet, but I get the sense he's a little "different". I still can't describe it, but it was painfully evident a couple of weeks ago during his soccer game. He was totally out of it. He'd kick the ball, then turn around and run the other direction. He didn't pay any attention to whether he was offense or defense. He wandered around the field talking to himself. I don't have any expectations that my kid is going to be a soccer super star, but it's really hard to watch him be that clueless...especially knowing just how much he *loves* both playing and watching sports.So, on Daddy's birthday, the family went out and practiced soccer at the school. We could give him a little more direction and let him know where he was going wrong. Mam had several sportsgirlship-based meltdowns, but we all still had a fun time.

When the next game day came around last Saturday, I was inspired to try something Smunch's occupational therapist (OT) had shown us. He went to occupational therapy for several months, but it was never very clear that it was doing anything for him except getting him really wound up and costing us a lot of money that insurance doesn't cover. Still, I figured it was worth a shot. His OT gave us this tunnel, which is really like a giant sleeve, made out of stretchy, knit material. The idea is that pushing his way through this tunnel (which doesn't have any solid support to it) somehow organizes his brain or his vestibular system or something.

I know. It sounds like phooey, doesn't it?? And I can't prove it isn't since we all went and practiced soccer once before his next game, but I swear, last Saturday, after pushing his way through the tunnel three or four times, he went to his soccer game, where Daddy and I sat politely on the sidelines and clapped when good things happened rather than exhorting him to run the other direction and pay attention to the ball. He scored FOUR goals. He was engaged. He was psyched. I was thrilled for him.
I'm curious to see what tomorrow and his next soccer game brings...

Bear factory

About a week and a half ago, I had my first opportunity to go to Smunch's school and volunteer with his first grade class. I love doing this. Smunch's little face lights up the moment he sees me and that might be worth it all by itself, but I also love getting to know the other kids. I like knowing what kind of people and what kind of students his friends are. To date, he seems to like the quieter, brighter boys the best. I'm fine with that. There are plenty of troublemakers in his class. Some of them would be fine as friends too. Others, I'd rather he didn't want to hang out with. But so far, I like his taste in other kids, so that makes me feel good about how he's doing. Unlike that first week, he's happy at school now. He likes his teacher. He's made a new friend or two.

But I digress.

Last week, the first grade (all four classes) finished up their unit on bears by turning the multi-purpose room into a teddy bear factory. They stuffed their own bears.Then, at the next station, they picked out a "wishing star", put it inside the bear and sealed it up via zipper and velcro. Then they had the "wish fairy" (a first grade teacher who retired last year) solidify that wish.Each student had their picture taken with their new bear, had it blow dried (supposedly to make it fluffier, although I couldn't tell the difference), choose a bow for the neck or the head and pick a name, which I wrote in my best calligraphic handwriting on a birth certificate for them. Smunch named his bear Jeffrey, after his grandpa.

All the while, teddy-bear-themed music played.

Yes. It was sort of silly and had limited educational value. But the kids were so proud of their bears and so happy to be doing something fun that it was worth the silliness. Jeffrey is the only stuffed animal remaining in Smunch's room. At six and a half, he decided long ago that stuffed animals were the purview of girls and ceded all of his to Mam. It's nice to have a little speck of his younger life return, however temporarily.

I'm Alive!

And I'm sitting down and breathing - two things it feels like I haven't done all week. Somehow, this week came on like a Mack truck. I'm not sure how everything appeared to converge on a single week, but it certainly felt that way. Monday was an orientation for volunteering in the computer lab at Smunch's school. Wednesday, I performed that very volunteer job. Thursday, I was back for my job as "literature docent"...which was mercifully fun and easy thanks to Smunch's organized teacher who handed me all the books the previous day. And today? Today was the day I went in to help the class make apple crisps.

I haven't even gotten started on the nasty, nasty cold Mam gave me earlier in the week. It peaked around Wednesday with a fever, a headache and an inability to breathe. Daddy had the same cold last week. Smunch stayed home with it (because it made him puke the night before) last Friday.

Oh, and did I mention? The Space Mountain cake...remember that? It had to be done today for a 10-year-old's birthday party tonight.

There was a smattering of unexpected freelance work in there too. It's been a short, insanely busy, multi-tasking kind of week. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that it's Friday. The weekend will be too short and I'll have to make up for some of the freelance work I didn't get done earlier this week because of the cold and the cake. But it's a weekend. Just the mere mention of it makes me relax just a little!

But I've skipped way ahead. It's been two weeks since I've posted. So let's go back to last week for a little while and talk about that...

Disaster Averted

Have I mentioned that when it comes to cakes I'm kind of a psycho? I've never taken a class. I'm certainly no professional baker. But I really like cakes and I like them to taste fantastic and look great. All in all, I'd call it a weakness of mine. Daddy suggested that I had enough going on and that I really didn't need to make a cake for his birthday. A store-bought cake would suffice. I even did that last year, but I just couldn't do it again...and with that Space Mountain Cake coming up next week, I need to start getting my cake-making skills honed again.

So, I scoured Epicurious for a recipe that sounded yummy, but didn't require a ridiculous number of ingredients I didn't have. I came up with a Lemon Lattice White Chocolate Cake. It's white chocolate cake with white chocolate/whipped cream frosting and a lemon curd filling. Based on another recipe I'd seen, I decided to add fresh raspberries to the filling too. It was a great idea, but I think I tried too hard to do things in phases. Certain bits didn't hold up all that well over time.

I baked the cake on Thursday, made lemon curd and started the frosting on Friday. Frosted the cake on Friday...discovering 1) I didn't have enough raspberries and 2) the recipe didn't make enough frosting for my towering cake. I used some raspberries from the freezer and put together some more frosting, which had to sit overnight before I could use it. I tried to pipe a lemon curd lattice on the top, but the lemon peel kept getting stuck in the frosting tip. In the end, I decided a nice layer of lemon on the top would look better.

But after a night in the fridge, I learned some things about this particular cake. It sorta settles. And frozen raspberries are kinda juicy...even though I froze them myself a week earlier, so they weren't at all mushy. When I got my cake out on Sunday to put the finishing touches on it, it was sitting in a pool of blood...or at least raspberry juice. I didn't think to take a picture earlier, but this is what it looked like with the juice sopped up from the sides.Not quite what I had in mind. And not so pretty.

I whipped up the last portion of frosting and set about fixing this monstrosity. And it didn't turn out too poorly, if I do say so myself.It even tasted great. And Daddy had a nice birthday - playing soccer with the kids at the school, playing four square in the driveway, going on the little rhyming treasure hunt I put together for him to find his new hanging chair for the porch, having a quiet dinner at one of our favorite restaurants and even getting a few straggler presents today.

His dad got him a new camera for his birthday. What do you think that means? New camera for the blog!

Well, hellooooo....I think

I think I finally figured out who was devouring my string beans all summer long. I don't know why it took me so long to catch him. But what is one supposed to do with one of these?I certainly couldn't squish this lovely shiny specimen. Besides, he's about the size of a quarter...and that's a lot of ewwy guts. Not gonna happen. I figured the damage was done. The beans are pretty much history. Live and let live. I left him for Smunch to see when he got home from school. He thought this beetle was pretty cool and he looked really awesome as he flew off over the rooftops too!

A rite of passage...aka Chop! Take 2

As a working (occasionally) from home mom, especially as one who is also a lousy housekeeper, I have few things to truly take pride in other than my kids. That means I try to have them look presentable...even when I know their teeth aren't brushed. Their clothes match and Mam's hair is generally out of her face most of the time when we're out in public.

Yesterday, she and Smunch were out front at Gram's house, deadheading the dahlias. This is a job Gram pays them for. A penny a dead flower. It's good work if you can get it. The kids took off with their kiddie scissors.

It's only been a couple of posts since I had Mam's hair chopped. Apparently, it wasn't a good enough hairdo for Mam. When I looked out the window a few minutes later, there stood Mam, hair in hand and scissors held at the ready...or more than ready, really. I loved her new haircut, so you know I jetted out the front door and stopped the chop from happening. But that wasn't the first chop. I missed the others. And now Mam was missing a big hunk of hair out of the side of her head and her bangs had been expanded an unacceptable distance around the side of her head.

You might not think this looks too bad, really...you know, if you didn't know that her hair is all supposed to be the same length and that she's got enough hair that her ears never show through it. And then there's this little issue...See a problem here? Yeah. She only cut one side too. Today, I have her in pigtails again, so it doesn't show too badly, unless you're in a position to see both tails at once. Then it's very obvious that one has a heck of a lot more hair than the other.

When I was a little girl, probably not a lot older than Mam, I played hair stylist on one of my friends. Her mother was reportedly less than happy. I guess I should be happy that she did her own hair styling. I'm definitely glad she didn't take the sheers to her brother, who has school photos next week...although it would have been funny a long time from now, I'm sure. For now, I'm having a hard time refraining from telling my "sweet" little Mam just how ugly her hair looks. I'm that nice.

School's in!

It's mid-September already and it certainly doesn't feel like two weeks since I've blogged anything, but obviously it has been. It's been a whirlwind of paperwork, back-to-school nights, drop offs, pick ups, homework and art work. It's nothing particularly stunning, just the start of two new school years. And I've only got two kids, so I'm feeling rather relaxed about it all, considering. It was so overwhelming to start elementary school last year. This year, first grade overwhelmed Smunch for a while, but I'm kind of "in the zone", so to speak.

Mam cheerfully started back to school the Tuesday after Labor Day. She loves her Tuesday/Thursday class, which includes a lot of her friends from last year.And she's doing well at tolerating her very boy-heavy MWF class, which includes just six girls (out of 20) including Mam. Fortunately, she likes some of them. They'll be seeing a lot of each other. She's also decided that she's O.K. with one of the boys in there, who she already knew. In the past, they'd mostly ignored each other, so it's nice to see them acting friendly. Possibly the best thing about Tuesdays and Thursdays is that Mam gets dropped off at the "far yard" because her class has playtime first thing. The far yard has always been a rare treat for most of the kids because it includes a rope swing and the "circle cycle". There's nothing better than dropping her off at the yard and seeing her run off without looking back. It's a far cry from the other days when I have to peel her off me, usually laughing rather than crying, and hand her to a teacher to haul her away.

And finally, I have a tiny bit of time to myself during the week. I spend some of it walking Mam to school and then walking myself home. It's about half an hour each way. I spend some of it reading the paper, doing laundry, trying to keep some semblance of order in the house. I like it. It's a far cry from the days when I felt like I had no time to do anything. I even turned down a potential contract job in the last week or so, just because I like life just like it is...and because the process of getting hired was starting to get annoying. I like the bits of work I get here and there, but I'd rather be volunteering at school

Oh, and I've been "commissioned" to make a birthday cake (for the price of a donation to the elementary school) in the shape of Space Mountain at Disneyland...uh...yeah. Let's see how that one turns out!

Chop!

Here's my beautiful little girl and her lovely flowing blonde hair. This morning it was reaching for her waistband.But she'd been constantly requesting a haircut. "Up to here," she demanded, hitting her ears with her hands. I'm not quite sure what a haircut up to her ears would look like, but I'm absolutely positive I know what it'd look like if we lopped off eight inches and gave her some bangs. It'd look something like this:I'm absolutely certain this is going to be a more practical haircut and that it'll save some of the hassle I have with her in the morning. And the long, long hair really didn't look that good except right after brushing. But it's hard to get used to...

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's an...

Ancient Mew??? Seriously?

Instead of the violently glowing green jerseys Smunch's team wore last year, this year's team got blue. Blue the color of Smunch's eyes, with a big navy-colored stripe down one side. Much better, in my opinion. It's a great color on him, even if it's not exactly fierce or masculine.Although the team color is much improved, the team name could have used a little more parental guidance...also my opinion. And, at the risk of offending Pokemon fans worldwide, I'll concede that it totally bugs me to have the team named after a cartoon character that's already had the hell merchandised out of it. So, Smunch is now a proud member of the Pokemon Ancient Mews...an Ancient Mew is pictured at the top of the post. Whatever.

Today was the Ancient Mews' first game and I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Smunch has improved a ton since last year. Unfortunately, that means he's twice as intense about it. When he's not actually in the game, he can't stay in his seat. Not only is there a constant running commentary on the game, but he's bouncing around the sideline and often onto the field. He's a lousy sportsman, keeping constant, vociferous track of the score.

He scored two goals in today's win against a strange amalgamation of a team...which included two players from the team that was supposed to play, but forfeited (I guess their parents didn't get the message) and a bunch of players from "Shark Attack" (they were navy and white, not blue and red) who decided to stay and play another game after their first one was over. Final score, 7-4.

Pear season

Despite the plethora of different fruit trees in our yard, one thing we don't have is an apple tree. So, as Fall approaches, we look to the weird, straggly little tree on the side of our house. About now, it's heavy and drooping with the most lovely pears you've ever seen. They're a variety of Bartlett, but they have this pretty pink blush to them. Even if you don't like pears, you've got to admit, this is a beautiful specimen!

The first of First

We had a fun time at the baseball game on Sunday, but Monday and Tuesday were pretty challenging days around our house. I was ready for Smunch to go back to school on Wednesday. Really ready. But it wasn't everything I'd expected. I guess it wasn't everything I'd talked Smunch into expecting either.

Here he is, looking all handsome as we leave for school. I went early because I was supposed to be there to recruit volunteers for the undefined Spring Event. I took Smunch with me. Daddy and Mam joined us before the bell rang.Here we are. We're both doing pretty well, although Smunch is starting to look a little concerned. There are an awful lot of kids out here and it's pretty overwhelming for a little guy who's never been to anything crazier than kindergarten.When the bell rang, his new teacher came out. She walked down the line, introducing herself to each of the kids. I was totally impressed that she already knew each of their names. Despite her reputation for being somewhat strict and structured (two things I thought would be good for Smunch), she seemed very nice and I felt hopeful for a good first day. She invited the parents to come in with the kids, take a few photos and then hustle out.Uh oh. I wonder why he's looking bored already. I certainly hope this isnt a sign of things to come. But it's not. Shortly after this, his face started screwing up like he might cry. By that time, I was getting a little teary myself and couldn't get out of the classroom fast enough. I really didn't want him to see me having trouble holding it together.

When I picked him up that afternoon. The most he would say was that his day was "O.K." I knew it meant he wasn't that comfortable, that he hadn't had that much fun, that it was all a little overwhelming. To top it off, he and his friend Jeremy had collided on the playground. He had a red welt in his eyebrow when I picked him up. Two hours later, it was a full on shiner.

But none of that prepared me for Thursday morning. He was in a bad mood that morning and he looked angry while sitting at the kitchen table. I asked him what was wrong. Daddy asked why he was acting that way. He didn't speak. He stood up and left. A few minutes later, I followed him and found him in his room, crying and gasping for air. I don't know if he was technically hyperventilating or not, but he couldn't stop.

I gave him a hug. I told him I understood that first grade could be scary. He said he didn't want to go to school. He was scared. He didn't like his teacher. Lunch recess was too long. He cried and cried. I had a hard time calming him down. Is this what a 6-year-old anxiety attack looks like? Daddy came back to the room too. We finally got him back to the kitchen for breakfast. He didn't eat much. He cried more. Daddy got him talking about baseball. But any lull in the conversation reintroduced sobbing.

It was late when we got him out the door. The bell rang when we were halfway there. The second bell rang as we got to the front of the school. His class hadn't gone in yet. He bravely joined the back of the line. I gave him a hug. He lost it. He was crying again. I told his teacher that he'd had a rough morning, she offered to hold his hand going into the classroom. He wanted Daddy. Off he went. Heartbreaking.

I didn't know until I picked him up, but I think I held my breath the entire time he was at school. When I arrived at 2:20, I finally exhaled when I saw him and he smiled. I tentatively asked how his day went. "Good," he said. "Great, actually!" Thank goodness. Today's drop-off was eventless. I think we're on our way.

Smunch's indecision

It was only a couple of days after our 12-hour drive home from San Diego, but I'd had my eye on a particular baseball game for about a month. The Oakland A's were going to be playing the Chicago White Sox. Since our trip to Illinois, earlier this summer, Smunch has been a die hard Cubs and Sox fan. And the A's? Well, they kinda suck this year. But he's also a fan of any local team...and any team where anyone he knows has ever lived. It doesn't hurt that the White Sox star player is Carlos Quentin...just like Uncle Quentin in Illinois. He brought his White Sox hat, "just in case."

I figured this game would be a great one to go to because he couldn't lose. If the A's got creamed, one of his favorite teams would still win. I had no idea how reality would play out.

Fortunately, it's not hard to get tickets to a baseball game where the home team has no prayer of making the playoffs (my own excuse for tacitly rooting for the Sox). But for any of you who are likely to buy tickets for a professional sports event, StubHub is really awesome. It's a place where you can buy tickets from season ticket holders. They sell the tickets for face value, so they aren't cheap, but they don't rip you off and they're great seats. Ours were terrific.

Smunch and I drove to the nearest BART station and took the train to McAfee Coliseum...which is possibly the ugliest ballpark in the United States. It was "Free Jersey" day for the first 10,000 fans, so we got there early. Thank goodness, because what would we have done if Smuch couldn't have had one of these to swim in?I bought him an A's hat to go with it. I figured if he had his White Sox hat, he ought to have one for the home team.

It's not like I've been to thousands of Major League ballgames, but this one ranked right up there as one of the worst I've ever seen. It almost didn't matter who you were rooting for. By the end of the third inning, it was 6-0, White Sox. And later...I'll let that speak for itself.

Although Smunch got to see lots of home runs and he seemed to be having a good time, he struggled mightily with his love for the A's. The new A's hat kept slipping, rather purposefully, off his head. Finally, he demanded his Sox hat.And from there on out, he kept going back to the A's cap, but it he just couldn't keep it on. The season ticket holders behind us started laughing at the frequent wardrobe changes. Can you say fair weather fan? That might be an understatement.

Despite the misery of the game, Smunch wanted to stay for the whole thing. The A's finally scored a run. Just one. They lost 13-1. When I looked over at the BART station after the game, it was packed, so we walked back to the stadium and we stood in line so Smunch could run the bases. There he is. Out there running the bases...In his Dave Henderson commemorative jersey...dress thing...