Fall Sports Pt. 2

I coached Liv's soccer team this year.  I haven't played since South Cache Middle School so it was a mighty flashback. 

I practiced with them and I'm better than a 9 year old.  I know that much.  My mom reminded me just before our first practice, "Colton's second grade soccer coach didn't know the first thing about soccer, but she taught them team work."  So I made some goofy hair ties to further the cause of unification.

One thing is for sure, I'm not an "everyone is a winner" type person.  You are a winner if you win.  You are a loser if you didn't and that means you've got work to do.  The girls were right there with me (mostly), so we had a fantastic season.

Happiest was I, that there were multiple girls who enjoyed playing goalie.  I have a healthy respect for anyone who would put themselves in such a perilous position. 

Most of the Evil Bulldogs U10 soccer team

We had a winning record and a winning attitude (right up until the last game when the little buggers threw it).

Fall Sports pt.1

Isaac plays flag football, Liv plays soccer.   It makes our week crazy busy.  For example...Liv practice Monday at 4, Isaac at 6:30, Tuesday Isaac practice at 5:30, Wednesday Liv game at 5:30, Isaac practice 5:30, Thursday Isaac game at 6:30, Saturday Liv game at 9. Phew!  On top of Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, church activities, and 15 trillion homework assignments it gets rough. 

This is how we make it through practices...

Mae and Noah are cool as long as we have snacks.

Georgia's on Chloe duty until the first time she sees another dog and George ends up face down on the turf.  Then I'm on Chloe duty.

Georgia knows every "squat spot" at every field in Springville. She is currently studying grasshoppers.

At this particular practice the sprinklers came on.  I squealed like a 9 year old girl and grabbed my camera, leaving Noah to fend for himself.  One more vote for mother of the year.

Handy

Made this after seeing a similiar one online on a craft blog.

Liv said people were staring at me while I assembled it on the floor at the D.I.  and  people were going to laugh when they came over.

I still like it.

We are a group of do-it-yourselfers.  Mae took that and ran... with scissors.

Her hair now parts on the right.

8 is GREAT!

Miss Olivia is 8 today, HiP hIP HoOrAY!

For her Birthday she asked for a

day at the spa

with her best friend in the whole, whole,

WORLD, Penina.

You should have seen those little sweeties lying with white-towell turbans on their heads while the aesthetician cleansed and massaged.  Then it was toes and fingernails across the board.  Complete with polka-dots.

She also asked for ice cream cake, which is yet to come with Daddy tomorrow.  He's a spoiler.

Today she also asked for hamburgers, bowling and a birthday photo shoot.  

I obliged. Even added some rootbeer floats.

She even lost her sparkly tooth at the alley.  Natural causes, not a wild throw by Georgia.

I love you, love you, love you my sweet Liv!!!

The other kids got in on some photo action too

Kids Say...

I was snuggling Liv and Georgia one night when the subject of posterity came up.  I told Liv, "When I'm a grandma I'm going to be a HOT grandma.  I'll spend all my money shopping and taking care of myself and I'll look sooo good."

"I'm going to tell my kids you're dead."

Isaac and I were playing "Rock Paper Scissors" in Sacrament Meeting when he told me, "Mama, I made up some new ones...Tornado (he says, spinning his finger in a tight circle), and Sexy Lady (as he "walks" his fingers down his leg).

Makes Me Tickle

Liv has some sort of disorder.  I have no other way to categorize it. 

I was getting ready for our Valentine's Day date and she came to watch me.  After a minute she says, "That makes me tickle."

"What makes you tickle?" 

"When you put on too much make-up or wear funny shirts like that."

I smiled.  How sweet.  But there was an ackward pause.

"A good tickle or a bad tickle?"

"A bad tickle."

This comes from a girl who, in a heartbeat would choose the following dress when we window shop...

Liv in 10 years (in her wildest dreams)

F.Y.I. I found this under "ghetto prom dress" on google.

YOU HAVE TO DO THAT SEARCH AND LOOK FOR THE BLACK GIRL IN THE LONG WHITE "GOWN"!

I guess she prefers I look like my usual slob.

She catches "Toddlers and Tiaras" commercials (confession: I watch those shows when they go to bed hehehe), and begs me to do a pageant.  ick.  But I have to look like a cow in order for her tummy not to tickle.

I guess if I hadn't "let myself go" she wouldn't know the difference.

School Day #1

I dropped off my kid's at school today the same way a normal person drops off her kindergartner in September. I only cried when Isaac's teacher was so ever-loving kind to him it broke my heart.

Liv's teachers were a little pissed. Pardon the French, but I believe they were. When I taught at Grant I'd have probably been as well. As it happened, I did have a home-schooler brought to me in the middle of the year, and he caught on immediately with what we were doing and it went swimmingly.

My first conversation with one of Liv's teachers went a little something like this...

"I tested her reading."
"uh-huh."
"She's behind."
"uh-huh." (you mean like I told you this morning when I dropped her off?)
"I mean VERY behind."
"uh-huh."
"I don't have anyone else in my class that low."
"Yup. I had her speech tested and she's got some form of auditory comprehension disability, but they didn't get too in-depth as she was going to a private school and they only tested her to see if she'd get resource help for a scholarship. I spoke to the school speech therapist and we've got an idea of what it is that slows her reading. We're going to have her tested to see just what she needs so she can be helped while she's at school."
"She's only reading on a first grade level."
"uh-huh." I've taught her for a year myself. I know what level she's reading at. My first grader has surpassed her.
"And why does she write in cursive?"
"That's what we taught at the Montessori school. It's easier for little scribblers (and it's just plain pretty, I should have added). Is it a problem for her to write in cursive?"
It was her turn this time, "uh-huh."
"Won't she be doing only cursive next year?"
again, "uh-huh."
"But for now she can't?"
"Un-uh"
"Well I guess we'll work on her printing."
"She's really low. Do you think her cursive has interfered with her reading?"
"Absolutely not. She always reads books in print. Always reads my work in cursive and she reads both on the same level. If anything it shows more intelligence that she can "translate". I'm a certified (well, it's expired, so I guess I'm not), teacher.
-Meaning I'm not some schmuck off the streets wanting to stay up late and sleep in, travel whenever I want to, and have my children make leather wallets to sell on Ebay. Although 2/3 are wonderful benefits to homeschooling. Besides, any schmuck would know a 1st-2nd grade level curriculum. Not that he'd want to teach it, but still.

I have the other teacher thinking Montessori is of the devil. I really need to keep my mouth shut or keep running it until it is all out on the carpet. I've sent my kids from one philosophy to the next. They won't converge for many moons, or some might argue, not at all.

Moral: It was the first day of school in the middle of the school year (and I am a schmuck for that). Can we give eachother a break?

So, while the learning we've done (and continue to do), at home focuses on one thing or another, I can probably be assured that it won't be the same thing focused on at "the big school" that Olivia has so longingly called it for the last couple years. I'll probably have a few more conversations about what Olivia knows or doesn't know, but, as of tomorrow I won't take it personally and I won't give it either. Let's just help these kiddos learn and be happy.

Schooled

After church in Seattle this Sunday Liv said, "Jaxson's teacher asked me to do something with numbers and I said, "I can't" and Jackson helped me. Then she said, "You don't know how to do that?" and I said, "No, I'm home-schooled."

The best part about this?! Jaxson is home-schooled too!

Somewhere

We drove through construction, over bridges, under bridges, through numerous stoplights and behind grandpa drivers because my mouth watered for some chicken tika masala and naan.



When we arrived, we got an eyeful of something akin to this:

"NNNOOOOOO!" I moaned. "NOOOO, NOOOO, NOOOOO!" for several minutes I whined and complained and I moaned.

From the back seat came the request, "Mom, stop crying, you're making me nervous." (Liv)

She only said that because she was gleeful that my favorite Indian joint had closed. The only thing she'd eat when we were there was the tandoori chicken by the plateful. hmmph.

I may never recover from this. Indian folks who cook so marvelously, who charged me for one adult and one child even though I have 4 (which is probably why you've closed your doors), wherever you are, know that I love you so. Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight, someone's thinking of you and loving you tonite. We may yet be reunited. Somewhere out there, out where dreams come true.

Oh My Heaven! Nearly Seven!

Despite the fact that she already acts like she's 17 (she just went to bed crying after we spent the last 2.5 hours arguing about not arguing. Yes, I'm 32 years old), she's just about 7. Monday in fact, is the big day. Her dirtday (no type-o, that is how she's always said it).

She asked for a new mom this week. She just told me that she wanted me to act like I wanted to be her daughter (you know what she means). The fact that she's adopted may make me slightly more sensitive, but at least Sarah's son (biologically), packed his bags and headed last year too.

She's a great "little mama", she is very loving (generally speaking), and she's a magnificent artist. She has a flair for drama and an eye for decorating. She is everybody's friend.

She's the best 6.95 year old fancy dancer I've ever known. She is a self-taught biker and a movie buff.

Well little mama,

Happy Dirtday!

I love you and want to be your daughter, and will in fact, be for eternity :)

In Concert, One Night onLY!

This is dedicated to the one I love...

count baby count!

(one, two, fwee, fo)



This is what makes it all worthwhile.

When I called to sweet talk Jason after telling him we needed x amount for the first week in order to buy books, pay teachers, etc. he says, "Bran. I figured this out. That's about $1500/year on piano lessons." I thought, "What in the world is he talking about and how did he arrive at that figure?" Turns out he thought they were $30 a week. He was still completely willing to pay for them (both of us would love to know how to play an instrument (other than a powwow drum or a kazoo).

AquaPhobic

Little Mae-toes has suddenly and unexpectadly become water nuts. She must now bathe with another body or she entirely freaks out. Kind of a tush pain, but these are sweet...

And I hardly think Liv minds.

Girls Being Girls

Miss Livs and I decided on a little r&r at the pedicure palace in the mall last Saturday. She felt quite grown up as they put three pillows behind her bony little back and the Asian women told her she was so tall for her age. She chose a lovely shade of purple "with sparklies". We proceeded to scour the mall in our temporary footwear.