Vacations and Namesakes

So, I took the month of May off from blogging. I know, I know, I said I would be here more often (I can see all three of you nodding), but maybe this time I won't be lying because I got a new laptop. I am getting ready to take my second Masters course, so my man bought it for me. Yeah!

I have also been thinking about the last entry. I am still not sure about what names I would have chosen, but I have some ideas. I don't know whose naming process is best because either way, some children still have to live with horrible names.

My first child, Evan, would be a sensitive one. I became pregnant with him during my engagement to his father. We broke up for a time, but eventually got back together. There are names I could choose that would focus on the difficult moments of my pregnancy, but instead I would probably choose words that would represent the fact that he helped my husband and I realize our love for one another, he gave us hope for the future, and being pregnant with him I learned about strength I didn't know I possessed. Love, Hope, Strength.

Kyrsten was a different story. She was planned. We hardly had to try at all (bummer). It was as if all things said it is time for your family to grow again. I could focus on the fact that she stubbornly remained breach until the bitter end, but I would choose for her something more. When we found out she was coming we began looking for a house for our larger family. Joy, Beginnings, Content.

Lucas was a thought that manifested itself. We were talking about the possibility and surprise! I had such an easy pregnancy except for enduring all the "Was this planned" questions. It seems absurd to some people to have more than two children. What-ever! We were excited to wonder and meet this new person we really hadn't expected. Complete, Wonder, Possibility.

What to name the kid...

So I was in our morning staff meeting and a friend and fellow teacher was explaining how a friend of hers, who just had a baby, named the baby Journey. They were missionaries in Africa and there the people name their baby a word that describes the time period during which the baby was born or carried or conceived (not sure which).

I just started cracking up when I thought about what I might possibly have named my children if this were the case here in the States. Don't you wonder what your name would be if your parents had followed this naming procedure? I think I might ask.

Soccer Coaches are like a Box of Chocolates...

It is kind of hard for me to describe "the dictator," aka Evan's soccer coach with out you being able to hear her. Don't get me wrong, I think it takes a really gifted, special person to handle a group of first and second graders...short attention spans, frequent need for a bathroom, toilet humor, endless questions etc. She is not a very patient lady, so imagine someone saying "line up, line up...hurry up" in a very impatient voice while giving you .243 seconds to comply and you are about 20 yards from where she wants you to line up. Sounds frustrating, now imagine you are 7 years old.

At the first practice I was somewhat bothered. Natalie joined me and we joked around about it. After the coach talked to the parents I saluted and said "Aye, aye captain" as I walked back to my seat. Practice came to an end and I asked Evan, "How did you like it?" I was prepared to quit. This is for fun and if he wasn't going to have fun well then... He loved it. And at the second practice the coach was the same and he loved it. He even said he really liked his coach. What is it that children can see (or accept) in people that adults can't?

Needless to say, lessons were learned. No silly, not soccer lessons, life lessons. Am I going to let him quit anytime the situation isn't exactly what he expects? No, he has to learn how to make commitments and stick with them, and he needs to learn how to deal with people that bother him. So unless she starts berating the children or making them feel bad about themselves, she'll just have to be my chocolate covered maple cream.

Snow White

So, I'm trying to follow through on my quest to blog more. Here goes.

I am not one to go to the grocery store alone. Most may find this crazy, but usually all five of us go. Today, it was Kyrsten, Lucas and I.

Kyrsten was dressed in a complete Snow White costume, cape and all. There are two reasons she was dressed like this. One, she was like that when I picked her up from my mom's. Two, why fight about taking it off when it performs the same duty as clothes.

As I was walking through the store, people smiled and pointed. Then a woman actually came up to me and said, "I just want to say, you are a cool mom!" (See ego inflating here.) Apparently, uncool moms do not allow their children to dress as Disney characters at the grocery store. So I said to Kyrsten, "We need to go grab some fruit before we go." (I know, I know. They even eat fruit.) Then I looked at her with real big eyes and said, "We better not by apples. That didn't work out so well for Snow White last time." She looked back at me with big eyes and said, "You're right, I might die." And then we laughed.

We bought strawberries and bananas instead.

Castaway Cafe and Literary Criticism

There is this clever little business in our town called Castaway cafe. I don't know if I can even describe it well enough to do it justice. It is a huge maze/web of rope ladders, slides, cushion like blocks, tunnels and other craziness that extends upward toward a warehouse high ceiling. (Anyone with kids should check it out...even a section for the peewees.) We took our kids there today. Nothing takes you back to childhood like watching your own children.

I reminisced about the days of Chucky Cheese with my husband. They still have these, but they are a watered-down, video-game overloaded, wanna be version of the old Chucky Cheese. (Remember the big ball tanks. They were great until some kids barfed his pizza in it and they had to close them for cleaning. And they had a real mouse guy walking around and singing on stage, not the robot version they have now.)

Anyway, every time we went to C.C., I made new friends, and I watched my kids do it today. They took off running and every time I saw them they were with a posse of kids challenging each other to the highest slide, comparing ages and finding out they were the same, pretending to be dogs, finding new routes to the top, and who knows what else. Good times.

I need to post more. One of the reasons I haven't been in blogworld lately except to comment on some lovely blogs is because of my Literary Criticism class. One of my goals this year was to begin work on my Master's degree. Boy, did I pick a doozy! Ask Natalie, she has been on this journey with me, maybe dragged along is a better way to say it. You know how criticism in general makes you feel, yeah this class is like that. I think it was created just to suck the life out of people who enjoy reading. I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I have enjoyed being back in academia (for the most part - another post), and I am probably getting the toughest class out of the way first. Now if only that acceptance letter would arrive.

Ode to the Loves of My Life

Very few of the few people who read my blog have met my children. Well, this post is dedicated to them and their fabulousness.

Lucas (aka Lukster-miester, Lukey, and young padawan)
One year old
Only child of mine who will eat peas, breast fed, and weighed 20 lbs before his first birthday
Has "evil" laugh when being mischiveous
Prefers to be carried by dad
Loves the outdoors, climbing on stools, Praise Baby, and making others laugh

Kyrsten (aka Ki-ki)
Four years old (in March)
Needs lots of sleep unless you would like to see her dark side - though you may see it anyway without any notice
Knows and uses way too many "grown-up phrases"
Prefers staying in her underwear all day long
Loves make-up, candy, playing with big brother, dressing up, singing and projects
Has the cutest little voice that includes switching b's for v's, ch's for t's, w's for l's and did you know today is Balemtime's day
Wrote a song called "What's Your Name" - it is an interactive song

Evan (aka bud)
Seven years old
Smart as a whip
Loves video games, playing outside, riding his bike (for miles), school and a million other things
Also prefers to be in underwear only
Is growing up too fast (i.e. used the phrase "as well" the other day)
Would eat noodles with just butter ("no sauce") for every meal
Writes poetry and just began a journal
Future is wide open for this kid

This is just a glimpse of the miracle that is my children. Only a creative and loving heavenly father could have created such wonder. As I think about them and their uniqueness I feel as if God is saying directly to me, "Happy Valentine's Day, Sarah!" What a gift of love each day is knowing them and being known as "mom."

Just sitting around...making up new words.

So, you may have heard about the dashing mayor of Detroit and the texting scandal with his chief of staff. That is a whole other blog, for a whole other person on a whole other day. Anyway, Natalie and I were watching the news and all the channels were discussing his press conference apology. They were interviewing several people and getting their opinions on whether he seemed sincere or not. As one man answers the question, he mentions something like the "malfeces of the mayor."

"Did he just say 'malfeces'?"

Ok, he did not say "malfeces." It was just what Natalie and I heard. I think he may have said "maleficient," but I can't be sure. Anyway, this led to the discover of said word "malfeces."

malfeces \mal-`fe-seez\ n. poopy talk (malfecious adj.)
1. I don't want to hear that malfeces come out of your mouth again.
2. Such malfecious language is not allowed in this classroom.

My goal is to try and work it into a real classroom situation. Shouldn't be too difficult with a room full of middle schoolers!