First Day 2012

It's hard to believe she's in third grade all of a sudden. And even harder yet to imagine that he's a fifth grader. Where has the time gone?

I don't know why I ask because I know exactly where much of it goes. The last weeks of summer were full of trips to nature camp for Mam, including her first overnight. Smunch and I played a full 36 holes of mini-golf in her absence...capped by Smunch successfully shooting for a free game (with my ball after shanking it with his own)at the 19th (which was really our 37th) hole.

And I took them both to the water slides in San Jose where we spent the better part of the day having a whole lot of fun and never visiting those towels that were saving us a space on the lawn.

We went for frozen yogurt...several times...we spent time with friends, we cleaned out the studio, which is now unrecognizable after the disaster the kids and their cousins made out there last month. I sold several outgrown kid toys...a sand and water table, a train table, the kiddie pool... I patched two punctured bike tires, replaced the entire innards of the master bathroom toilet, cut down the branches that were knocking down the back fence, and hemmed two pair of baseball pants that were a good six inches too long, but were required for Smunch's travel team. I bought a new vacuum cleaner...an event far more exciting to me than I really want to admit.

And now, the kids are back in school and their limited time at home is filled with homework, soccer practice, baseball practice, orthodontist appointments (now for both), speech therapy and the race to get finished with dinner before bedtime.

What does that mean? It means this year will be over before I know it and that a few minutes from now, I'll be sending Smunch off to his last year of elementary school (which is 6th grade in our district).

When my kids were little and people told me, "Oh, they grown so fast!" I knew what they meant, but I still felt like days moved by so terribly slowly.

It's only now that I'm really beginning to understand.

A First for Second and Fourth

I'm so glad we managed to get away for a few days before school started. And I was tickled pink to be in Yosemite when the call went out to help sort school supplies this year. Thank goodness that was something I couldn't help with at all. I got roped into helping with a coaching clinic for soccer, but that was fine.

I took Mam out to see if I could find her a cute dress for the first day of school. She's always resistant to going out. No matter what she's up to at home, it's always more interesting than anything involving getting in the car. We went to Kohl's. Nothing. We went to Target. Nothing again. I sighed and asked if she wanted to wear clothes she already had or go to the nearby mall...expecting a swift end to shopping. We went to the mall. She found a dress at Macy's. I hated it. I made her go to Gymboree. Nothing she liked and nothing I wanted to afford anyway. I dragged her to JCPenney. Nothing. Finally, I had to suck it up and tell her she could have the dress at Macy's. I hadn't checked the price tag. At least it was on sale.

When we got back to Macy's, she went right back to the dress she'd found and then chose its neighbor...which still wasn't something I would have picked out, but was a whole lot cuter than the original choice. I agreed quickly and we checked out as fas as possible, before she could change her mind.

She may have been overdressed for the first day of school, but at least she was cute.Smunch wasn't thrilled with the teacher he'd been assigned for the year. I was pretty happy because she was the only fourth grade teacher who wasn't new to the school and she has a good reputation. It didn't show that much, but I think Smunch was pretty anxious about the first day.Mam, on the other hand, got just the teacher she wanted...except that that teacher now has a shared classroom, so she'll only be there part time and is sharing with a former kindergarten teacher. I like her teachers, but I wasn't super thrilled about another shared contract. Mostly, I was relieved that she didn't get one of the other teachers...who is also a terrific teacher, but I thought Mam would be particularly poorly suited to her style.

Mam couldn't wait to get to school. She really missed her friends over the summer and was just so excited about everything!As is tradition...in many families, I suppose...Daddy and I walked the kids to school.They chattered happily the whole way. It's so nice to have them be excited about school. When I look at what other parents deal with in terms of first-day jitters and separation issues, I have to admit that I'm very fortunate. My kids clearly love me, but they're also happy without me. I must've done something right somewhere along the line!This year was strange because the kids wait in lines all the way across the blacktop from each other. So, I couldn't easily go back and forth between them. I missed meeting any of the teachers. But that was fine. One of them knows me and the other two probably know who I am as well. I've been a known quantity at school for a while now.

Both kids seemed perfectly happy in line for their new classes. Although I'm sure he had no qualms, Daddy carefully questioned Mam about whether she was really ready for second grade.Mam gently reassured him that she was indeed ready for the year and all it entailed.

As if I needed more proof that I burned out almost every volunteer impulse last year, I took one look at the annual back-to-school coffee (where the year's volunteers are recruited) and decided that I'd really like to go home...to my eerily quiet house, eat breakfast and read the paper.

Mam, predictably, had a great first day and to my great relief, Smunch was thrilled with his class too and reports that he really likes his new teacher.

It's going to be a good year.

School Again

I feel fortunate to have kids who actually seem to like school. I didn't hear a single complaint about going back. Mam was excited to start first grade and play on the "big playground" with Smunch. And although Smunch's best friend wasn't in his class this year, he was excited about his 3rd grade teacher...who is possibly one of the nicest individuals on the planet.

Mam doesn't know this, but her 1st grade class, with a team of two teachers, would probably be the most requested class of all...you know...if schools took requests. I honestly hadn't considered the possibility that she would be placed there, but I was thrilled nonetheless.
Daddy joined us for the big walk to the first day of school. I'm so glad my kids don't complain about the walking, or really acknowledge that there might be alternatives. Honestly, if I had to drive and find parking, it would probably take longer than the walking, especially on that first day.I've never had to see off two children at the same time on the same playground. I wasn't quite sure what to do and I didn't get all the photos I would have liked to get.And, so far, both of them seem thrilled to be back in school. I'm thrilled too! Gone are the long days of squabbling. I can work in peace...for hours. I can schedule appointments on any day at any time before 2 o'clock. It's an amazing amount of freedom. I no longer have to rush to be back at school by 11:30 for kindergarten pickup.

I do wonder if, in a couple of weeks, I'll start missing having my little kindergartener around. But since she often insisted on watching TV, I'm glad to have her in school instead. It isweird though to see her sitting at a desk of her own, looking so very grown up.

Sharks!

It's a little weird to blog about things that I wasn't present for. But sometimes it's fun to talk about things one of the kids really enjoyed, so I can remember it even if I can't remember being there...because I wasn't.

Aunt Karen and SPENCER! were here, so when some extremely generous friends (thanks again, They Call Me Mama!) gave us a pair of tickets to see the San Jose Sharks, I knew it was more than likely that Daddy would be going. And, of course, there was no question that Smunch would be going. He'd never been to an ice hockey match before and he'd been waiting for this particular Saturday night for months!

So, I did not go, but I did watch for my boys on television and Daddy thoughtfully sent me a few photos from his iPhone. They had great seats.And sometime before the game, Daddy was fortunate enough to have forward, Jody Shelley, flip him a puck, which immediately became Smunch's most prized possession. (Perhaps it's no coincidence that Smunch's 8th birthday party will be held on Mr. Shelley's 35th birthday...although really, it is.)Apparently, Smunch bounced on his toes for the first two periods of the game, but running purely on excitement and on so little sleep, he became awfully mellow by the last one. He didn't let o of the puck though.He was still psyched about the puck when he got home, wide awake around 10:30 that night.

Daddy really hadn't wanted to take him to the match. The sleep-deprived behavior that afternoon was pretty awful, but I'm so glad they went anyway. You just don't get that kind of opportunity every day!

Hoops

With the kids getting so big, I sometimes feel like we're running out of 'firsts'. Know what I mean? I know there are still first dates and first kisses and all those things ahead of us, but I don't really want to think about those. I'm still in the phase of first steps and first dry nights. (Hey, could I order up some more dry nights already???)

Anyway, now that Smunch is firmly entrenched in the organized sports world, I didn't think we'd have a lot more sporting firsts. But here you go.That's our Mam...playing basketball, a sport her brother never ventured into. In fact, her mother never played hoops either, but "Coach Dan" asked if she might be interested in playing on his Y-ball team. Interested in basketball? Not so much. Interested in playing for Coach Dan? Absolutely! Turns out, the team is about half kids from the Blue Butterflies. After the first game (pictured above) they decided to call themselves the Hoopstars. Cute.Very little girls playing basketball are hilarious, it turns out. There aren't many skills that really transfer from soccer. It's all very different. The girls seemed to have a clue during practice, but I think that all went out the window during the game. One got the impression that they were just excited to have the ball and very excited to be bouncing the ball, regardless of the fact that they weren't moving and weren't near any basket in particular.Mam spent much of her time as pictured above, with her arms in the air, clapping her hands to say "Let's get it going!" or "Pass it to me!" or "Hey look, I'm clapping with my arms in the air. How cool!" It was hard to know, but it was funny. In the end, the only girl on their team to score was one who has an older brother...one who plays basketball. Final score? It was a tie - 6 to 6.

The 8-foot baskets are still mighty high for all of them. There was shooting, but not a lot of successful shooting. And no one seemed quite sure what to do about all those opposing players trying to block them.

For our part, the fans had to sit on the floor, scrunched along the wall. Hardly comfortable or inviting, but close to the action. Maybe too close!

Another Year, Another Kindergartner

Scrolling back through the posts I've written this summer, it's painfully obvious just how busy we were. I try not to write much when there's nothing much going on, but that was rarely the case. This is perhaps the first year both kids will really remember the summer...based on how old they are. I hope they remember it fondly and not as a mishmash of dizzying, but fun experiences.

School started so early this year. It wasn't even late August yet. But then, something had to curb my need for overscheduling, I guess. And I was so excited to see Mam off to kindergarten, with the expectations that she'd be very, very happy there and I'd be happy to have the kids in the same place.

Before the big Wednesday first day of school, Mam had a lemonade social at the kindergarten where she got together with her future classmates and got to meet her new teacher. After all that posing at Disney World, Mam was happy as a clam to pose with her latest princess. Looks familiar, doesn't it?This one, she gets to keep visiting for the rest of the year. And she'll only have to compete for attention with 19 other kids rather than a whole theme park full.

The teachers took all the kids in the classroom to read a story and left the parents out on the playground. Since we were a couple of minutes late, Mam wasn't sure what to make of that, but I got away with escorting her halfway into the classroom...just enough that she could see that she knew other kids in there...and then quickly making my way back out.

Tuesday, I took the kids to my hairdresser for haircuts. Smunch's hair had been cropped so short during the summer, that I just had her tidy it up so it would grow out nicely. Mam, on the other hand, said emphatically that she wanted her hair cropped up to HERE! (with her hand up above her ear). I refused, but she had it cut as short as I was willing to go. I really prefer the long hair, but not the long hair-combing battles, so she gets her way.

Wednesday finally came and I had the kids dressed 'just so' and ready for their first day. Cute clothes, new backpacks, new lunch bags, combed hair, brushed teeth. Mam was excited. Smunch seemed happy, but very slightly apprehensive.The whole family took the short walk to the kindergarten yard, where Mam immediately ran off to play with her friends, including her Sarah who is in her class for the first time this year. After a few minutes, the bell rang and Mam flew past me, "Bye, Mommy!" she waved as she joined the line.So very, very different from her brother. She trotted happily off into the classroom with barely a glance behind her.

We wandered over to the "big kid playground" where Smunch quickly found his line and stood in it, still looking slightly anxious.But it all went away when he met his nice, new teacher. She's quite fabulous, I hear. My interactions with her to date would certainly suggest that's true. Very, very nice with a great reputation.I'm happy about his teacher and about the kids (and parents!) in his class. It's shaping up to be a really good year and in the end, he seemed happy to be off to second grade.Second grade. That used to sound so very old!

And I went off to the Welcome Back Coffee to overvolunteer myself for yet another year. I avoided becoming anyone's room mom, but signed up to help the room mom in both classrooms. I'll be in Mam's room weekly to help out and may be taking both classes to the library from time to time. I'm looking forward to it.

What I didn't realize is that while everything is new and different for the kids, it's really kind of new and different for me too. The volunteering hasn't really kicked into gear yet, so I'm feeling a little adrift in a big sea of parents and kids. All the same friends are still there, but we're all doing different things with different routines than we had last year. I'm hoping that as soon as things firm up a little and I'm getting into the classroom again, I'll feel like I've got a "place" there. Until then, at least my blog is up to date.

It's now Monday and the fourth day of school for both kids. To my great relief, they seem to be getting happier and happier with school. They're both happy to go and happy to stay. I don't know how it could be going better. This is the first year it's actually been easy!

Home Alone

It's a weird feeling to misplace your child. It's never really happened to me before this week. One minute I was on the playground chatting with another mom about orthodontists, the next Smunch came out of his classroom without his sweatshirt. I told him to go back and look for it. He couldn't find it. I told him it was probably on the hook outside the classroom. He couldn't find it. He said, "I wonder where I could have left it." And he took off toward the other side of the playground.

Assuming he was off looking for his sweatshirt, I kept chatting. He didn't come back. I finally decided he must've been distracted by an afternoon game of shoot-out or wall ball and headed out to the playground myself. I didn't see him. I went back to his classroom where his lonely sweatshirt hung out the hook outside. I asked his teacher if she'd seen him. Nope. I walked around the playground again, figuring I must've missed him somehow.

I still wasn't feeling very panicky. I mean, he and Mam often take off into the larger playground if I stay and chat too long. It's annoying because I have to head out there and get them if I want to go home, but it's hardly dangerous. He had to be out there somewhere.

I was getting hot walking around and around on the blacktop, overdressed for the warm weather in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. I walked around again and again. I went in the office. Nope. I went back to his classroom. There were now three first grade teachers in there and they all sounded concerned. "Would he have gone home?" one of them asked. "I don't think so," I said. "Has he ever gone home by himself before?" "No."

At this point, I'm starting to feel a wee bit panicky, remembering the note from the superintendent that went out the previous day, describing a potential kidnap attempt on another student in the district. My mind starts visiting unimaginable scenarios. I can't think for the life of me where he could be and can't imagine he would have gone home all alone. I walk the playground again. His teacher goes to the office and sends out a school-wide page over the intercom. "Smunch Ryder, please come to room 12!" Nothing.

I decide I'd better head home, just in case. I tell his teacher to call me if he shows up. In turn I promise to call her if he's at home. I head as fast as I can for the crosswalk, which goes across a busy street, but has a friendly crossing guard. "Did my son go across here?" I pant. He nods.

Although I wonder what he was thinking crossing Smunch without me (he's held both kids for my arrival many times before), I thank him and walk faster. I cross another street that is often busy. No crosswalk. No crossing guard. I can see my housecleaners leaving, but waving and gesturing. Clearly, Smunch has made it home and he's in the house. Turns out they've been trying to call my cell phone...which, naturally, isn't on me. They're awesome for realizing this was an unusual situation. They didn't even see me leave and head to school, as far as I know.

I walk in the house and there is Smunch, not the least bit abashed, beaming from ear to ear. He's so very proud of himself for doing such a big boy thing. I have a split second to think about what to do. Should I yell? Should I speak harshly? Should I tell him I'm glad he's safe? I came up with what I thought best fit the situation. I knelt down on the floor and gave him a hug. With Smunch giggling with pride, I burst into tears.

It was the right move. He apologized profusely and I could tell he actually meant it, for a change. Then I told him how worried I'd been, and asked why he'd left without me.

"You were talking," he said.

Hurumf. For the record, I've had much more important conversations while standing on the playground and talked for much longer. It didn't make him take off. I called the school office and cancelled the search of the campus.

We talked for a while about the necessity of telling me if he's going to leave. I told him how his teacher was worried and how he'd been paged all over school. He seemed both mystified and entertained by the whole idea. Now he was famous. Or infamous, at least.

What I will never, ever, ever tell him is that there's a little part of me that's really proud of him too. My shy, anxious little first grader decided what he wanted to do and did it...independently and with no help from me whatsoever. It was absolutely nothing I would have expected of him. It was gutsy and showed a side of him I've never seen. It's so nice to know that not everything scares him and that he can take pride in doing something a little scary and succeeding...even at the risk of his mother's fragile mental health.

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!

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.

Tooth Fairy jurisdiction issues

Before we left for Chicago, just the day before Smunch's last day of school, I noticed that he finally had a loose tooth. It seems like most of his friends have already lost their first tooth and many have lost several, so this was a big deal. Shortly after I noticed his tooth was loose, I noticed that the permanent tooth was already in behind it...leading to a progressively greying tooth in the front of his mouth. It was icky. Seriously. But Smunch was excited. He tried to tell everyone he knew that his tooth was loose. About half those people couldn't understand him, either because he was stuttering or just because his articulation is so poor. Still, it was cute. It's hard to remember being quite that excited about things, so it's fun to witness it.

During our wait at O'Hare, the moment finally came. The icky grey tooth was barely held in there and Daddy reached in and picked it out.As you can imagine, this creates a little bit of a problem. Smunch lost his tooth in Chicago, but we had to make sure it arrived safely at home to put under his pillow here.

The next morning, he found two notes under his pillow with a White Sox cap (to complement the Cubs shirt we'd bought in Chicago) and a dollar coin.He was one happy camper...although he didn't recognize the dollar coin. I guess I'd failed to introduce him to one of those since he understood money.

Thank goodness Smunch doesn't have a clue what a White Sox cap goes for at the airport or the Tooth Fairy, Chicago affiliate would be in big, big trouble for setting a very bad precedent!

A true milestone

I know this doesn't look like much. Typical kid eating spaghetti. But in our house, this is nothing short of a miracle. Smunch and Mam have steadfastly refused to have sauce on their pasta since their first introduction to the starchy stuff. Daddy made a big batch of his trademark spaghetti sauce the other day and Smuch, in an effort to convince us all that he's really growing up, decided to try it...on his pasta. Not only did he declare that he liked it, he ate the whole thing!

Introduction to Public Speaking

I don't think Smuch truly appreciated what a momentous 'first' today was for him. How is it that as little kids, we can't wait to get up in front of the class and share our lives with our classmates, but as adults, it becomes an anxiety producing experience?

This week, Smunch is "Star of the Week" in his kindergarten class. That meant that we had to produce a poster about him for class yesterday and he got to bring his five favorite things...well...at least five things he likes that fit in a paper bag.

He had a great time up there, stumbling through an explanation of his poster. He asked me to come, so I did. And of course, I videotaped. I still have to see whether there's any point in editing his presentation down to post it. I suspect there's not. It's hard to hear. I was just using my regular ol' camera and it picked up more other chatter in the room than it did Smunch talking.

Anyway, I was super proud of the little guy. He was very cute sitting up there in front of the class with his mud-stained jeans, calling on his classmates to ask questions and figure out what he'd brought in the bag. (No, I don't send him to school in mud-stained jeans, but the boys play soccer before the bell rings for school every day and Smunch always plays goalie. Hence the muddy pants.)


These are the items he found important to bring: (watch me work some more bullet magic here)

1. A 2007 Little League trophy


2. A 2007 AYSO soccer trophy


3. The dragon with the shiny blue "scales" that he got for Christmas


4. The kids' camera he got for Christmas


5. His brand new bike helmet that we bought over the weekend ("It's a really cool helmet!")

Letterboxing

About a month ago, I was eavesdropping on an after-school conversation between two of the other moms with kids in Smuch's class. One of them was describing an activity that her family sometimes does, called letterboxing. It sounded interesting and since we've got a lot of time to kill this week and because I really needed to get out of the house yesterday, I thought we'd give it a try.

In a nutshell, people who do letterboxing have hidden packages all over the country...all over the world, really. Then they post clues to finding the packages on the letterboxing website. Each package minimally contains a rubber stamp and a notebook. If you're just starting out, like we are, you go online, check for clues to letterboxes in your area and then set out with your own stamp and notebook to find them. When and if you find the letterbox, you stamp your own notebook with the stamp in the letterbox...


and then put your own stamp, name, and date in the letterbox notebook.


Yesterday was cold and windy, so when I took the kids out to a local park, we followed the instructions, walking and walking. Naturally, the kids refused to wear their sweaters, so we were all freezing. In the end, I'm pretty sure we found the location, but the letterbox wasn't there anymore. We got our three freezing butts back to the car as fast as we could.

When we got home, I did a little better job with doing my homework on the letterboxes and selected two possible series of boxes we could go in search for. Both of them had updates relatively recently, so I figured our chances were pretty good. We set out again after lunch, to look for a series of three letterboxes at a nearby (very busy) open space preserve. Still cold. Still windy, but at least I got them to wear their coats! The first letterbox, again was MIA, but the second was our very first success. The kids were so excited. We did our stamping and put it back carefully. The third, missing again.

It turned out that Daddy was a little disappointed that we went letterboxing without him, so we set out on a mission to find the other series (of five boxes) today...back to the same park where our first failure occured. Our trip started out like this - in an empty, overgrown, overflow parking lot for the nearby amphitheatre. And off we went.






It took a while to get to the location in the first clue, but we got there. It wasn't exactly obvious, but with a little effort, we found it!





These boxes were only put out there about a month ago, so I thought we had a pretty good shot at finding a few, but we found them all! These folks found some pretty good hiding places too.


On the whole, we bit off a bit more than we could chew with this one. It involved about five miles of walking, I figure. We ended up stopping for lunch after box #3 and the whole trip took more than three hours. I'm not sure how Daddy's shoulders are going to be feeling by tomorrow.


There's nothing exactly mystical or meaningful behind searching for letterboxes, but it's a great way to motivate the kids to get out in the great outdoors. They've walked an awful lot in the past two days and they say they're up for more tomorrow!