Kangatopia

Monkey started Kindergarten today. She’s been waiting a week to wear her new Sleeping Beauty locket from the Disney store, though we haven’t gotten around yet to filling it with pictures. Her teacher was Bear’s 1st grade teacher, so he is also very excited about her new adventure.

When we arrived at the school this morning, Bear took off as soon as we cleared the door for his new 4th grade classroom and I shrilly called him back and made him walk with me to Monkey’s Kindergarten classroom. Monkey’s hands were shaking a little as she peeled the backing off her name tag, but she knew where to place it on her dress just as she knew how to open the locker where her backpack would be stored. Sobbing as soon as I left the room, I made Bear hold my hand until he pulled it out of my grasp when we neared the hall where his classroom is located. I realize now that I should have given Bear some advance warning that I might have trouble containing my wracking sobs.

Bear arrived at his classroom just before the tardy bell, and his class was already lining up to go to art. I think he’s going to have a great year. Art? First thing on his first day of school? Things are looking up!

Monkey, Bear and I gently explained to Winston last night that Monkey is no longer going to be around to be her partner in crime at daycare. Her upper lip quivered a bit, and she looked as if her world was caving in but Monkey assured her that she would make new friends of her own.

I left work early today to pick Bear and Monkey up at school. Bear complained his day was “rough”. Monkey was a’twitter with glee. She drew a little picture of what her class did today.

We picked Winston up at daycare next. She was sitting a little off to the side of where the other kids were clustered. She looked lonely and sad, but brightened up like a grass fire when she saw the three of us come to her rescue.

I wish I could be as excited as the kids - or Monkey, anyway, and I guess on their (or rather, her) behalf - I am. My evening turned out to be a bummer though. I didn’t ride my bike tonight in favor of going to a meeting at which I learned that my exceedingly liberal education is a little too liberal for the state of Texas. All is not lost, but it is going to be a lot harder to achieve and it will take a hell of a lot more time and expense. (You may ask what I am talking about, but I am not ready to say.) I also learned that since I am, for the first time since my kids started public school, not living with my parents or illegally out of the district, I am eligible to apply for the free and reduced lunch program in the school district. I am also, for the first time since my kids started school, not eligible to receive it by virtue of being $600 per year over the maximum gross income.

Over the weekend I began giving Bear the lecture about how he’s going to have to find scholarships and grants if he wants to go to college, so it is important to buckle down now and start studying for the SAT. Maybe I should get him some flash cards?

This entry was posted on Monday, August 27th, 2007 at 11:07 am and is filed under The Wild Animals & Former Prime Minister. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

I am not very well organized. Everyone will tell you this. I dream of being well organized. I fantasize about having an immaculately kept house. But, the truth is, that while I like to keep the dirty dishes to a minimum, the dirty clothes from growing mold, and a basic, if not well ordered, tidiness in our home - I am not one to place housekeeping and organization right up at the top of the list of priorities. Bedtimes, however, are another matter. God help a child who leaves a light on, or dawdles too long at bed time. Even though I rarely will spend a week night scrubbing out a toilet (that is, after all, one of the chores piled on Bear on the weekends), I generally try to keep up with the laundry - my success rate determined by how much there is to do (a lot of laundry will get shuffled off to another day - a little might find it’s way into a neatly folded pile on the floor) and how weary I feel (or how quickly I want to be in bed.)

Last night was a surprisingly energetic evening. Leaving the kids to have dinner with Shep, I raced off to the lake on my little blue bike and had a better than average ride. I was faster and stronger than most evenings. I think I’ve said it before, and I will probably say it a million times more, rides like the one last night are what keep me going with cycling. They give me hope that one day I will meet my goal of being one of the faster and stronger cyclists at the lake at any given time.

Then, upon my return, I had dinner with Shep, bathed the girls, got everyone into bed, made Bear’s lunch for his field trip to the wax museum, prepared blueberry muffin batter, showered, logged my last two rides, washed dishes, folded clothes, washed clothes, dried clothes, and read about 10 pages in the new Harry Potter. I am telling you all of this because I am proud of my own productivity.

However, in spite of all that activity last night, this morning did not go as well as I hoped. You see, my darling little baby turns 4 today. She is so amazingly cute, of course. Last night her anticipation made falling asleep a goal, rather than an immediate reaction to laying horizontal in a dark room. We woke her up this morning by singing Happy Birthday to her. Shep baked the muffins while I got ready, and then we all trooped downstairs to a lovely little breakfast of muffins and juice. The kids got ready for their day, and we all piled in the car and headed north. Then, I realized suddenly when we were about three miles away that I had forgotten Bear’s sack lunch in the fridge. So, we turned around, raced back, picked up the lunch and headed north again.

Once we arrived at the daycare, I found that all of Monkey’s classmates were going on a field trip to a play center and she was the only one not signed up. The crushing guilt inspired me to include her in the trip, but that meant that she too would have to have a sack lunch. Winston, too, needed cupcakes so that her classmates could help her ring in her new year. So, after sorting out the financials for Monkey’s trip, I sped off to the grocery store to purchase Monkey’s lunch, Winston’s cupcakes and 2 dozen party hats for Winston’s classmates.

Returning to the daycare, I found that what I wanted more than anything else in the world was to stay with my children. I visited each of their classrooms to give them gigantic hugs and to shower them with kisses (Bear was mortified), and Winston’s teacher who has a large pink stud pierced through her tongue, took a very sweet picture of Winston and me. Monkey was ecstatic that she was allowed to go on the field trip too, and her hug was especially strong.

Finally, I realized that my presence was disruptive, and after stopping to call in to work from the daycare’s phone (I forgot my cell today), I motored off to work to sit in my office which, sometimes, feels a lot like a cave.

My baby turns 4 today. I wish I had a way to bottle up each ounce of her sweetness, every moment I have with her - except, maybe, those when she shrieks.

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 16th, 2007 at 10:37 am and is filed under Just Mommy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

On Saturday, Shep and I hauled our asses out of bed and drove out to a nearby town for another bike rally. The night before I had enthusiastically downed a bowl of pasta and fake, protein rich meatballs and so was as ready as I could be for what I figured would be a hilly, endurance testing, overheated ride through the Texas countryside near where I spent many childhood days bored out of my skull.

The experience was pretty typical. We arrived, unloaded our bikes, picked up our packets (or in this case, a number and a t-shirt), waited at the start line and then slowly made our way through a crowd of cyclists trying not to knock down, or get knocked down by, another rider.

There were some hills.

It was hot.

Then, oh my God, the chipseal. Christ. It was a beating, and I was hating the ride and hating that I dragged my sleepy ass out of bed at 6:30am to be brutalized in such a fashion. By mile 15 I was already considering loosening my grip on self respect and pride and taking a sag wagon to the finish line. At mile 20 we crossed a county or city line and the chipseal stopped, and all was well.

Then, it just got hotter and hotter. We stopped at every rest stop and took full advantage of the heavily diluted Powerade and water and whatever shade there was.

At the last 12 miles of the ride, Shep sped off to try to finish in under three hours and I moseyed along with hope that I wouldn’t have to be taken in by ambulance. During the last 8 miles, I met up with another cyclist - an 8th grade history teacher - and we helped each other limp our way to the finish line via the magical art of conversation. It’s amazing how hard exercise can be made easy through commiseration.

I found Shep at the finish line and then took advantage of the cool misting fans, and a huge spread of sodas, water, sandwiches, brownies and ice cream. Shep and I both realized that eating after a rally is key to replenishing our energy supplies - as, for once, we weren’t exhausted. We normally train 4-5 days a week on 16 mile rides. Shep also plays hockey 2-3 times per week, but for me this ride of 45 miles is a bit more than what my body is used to handling. It surprised us both how much of a difference eating right afterwards made to our energy levels the rest of the day.

There’s a good chance I will ride this rally again next year. However, this year I think I am going to wait until September before I’ll go out again on another long ride. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to motivate myself just to keep doing the 16 mile training rides in spite of daily high temperatures well over 100.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 13th, 2007 at 9:59 pm and is filed under Health, 2007. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

My sister is telling me to stop moping over the death of my faculty. She’s right. He would have thought us all morons if we let the mourning go on too long.

So, as it turns out, he was a fan of Lance Armstrong’s – even going to France to watch LA compete in the Tour de France. So, tomorrow, I am planning on riding in a nearby bike rally in his honor. I really had no desire to ride this rally, but I figure it will give me a better conversation starter at his memorial than talking about how he scared the crap out of me.

Shep and I took Monkey and Bear to Six Flags earlier in the week. The experience was eventful, as days at amusement parks are wont to be. The lines dwindled to almost nothing after dark, so we pretty much had our choice of rides. The kids wanted to ride one ride again which drowns you like a rat, or at least makes you look like one. So, we got on, rode and when it was time to get off – the ride operator sent us through again. Ha Ha! Yeah, great, except for the one drenched mommy who was only trying to make sure her kids had fun and was actually hoping to respect her personal comfort limits on soaking wet underwear.

Monkey had her first, true to God ride on an old wooden roller coaster. She sobbed in much the same way I did a little earlier when I rode a roller coaster with Shep which goes backward through double loops. Monkey, the wimp, only had to put up with going fast through dips and peaks. After the ride, she was perturbed and demanded to know why we thought that was a good idea.

We left the park at 11pm, and the kids were sucked into sleep before we even figured out how to get back to the highway.

This entry was posted on Friday, August 10th, 2007 at 12:10 pm and is filed under Bear Stories, Just Mommy, Monkey Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.