This afternoon we will go to JR’s second soccer class. It’s very important to JR that you all understand he is not on a soccer team; he goes to soccer class. He doesn’t feel confident enough to play on a team yet, so we’re going this route to build up his skills. Then we’ll see. We aren’t going to push him either way. Ross and I are both non-athletes (I don’t count schlepping myself to-and-fro in the name of cardiac health as being an athlete), so we didn’t expect to have a sporty kid on our hands. Even if JR does look very much the part when he dons his headband before heading out onto the field with his teammates classmates.
The way we see it, right now it’s our job to expose him to a variety of different “things”, in the hope that one day he’ll find his “thing.” He did Tball last Spring and swimming the year before that. On the 28th he’ll do his second kids run. And in the summer he’ll take a stab at coding with CodeVA, an awesome organization in our area that is fighting to make computer science more than an elective. His soul-crushing obsession with Minecraft tipped us off that this particular activity would probably be a good fit.
I’m interested to see how it all goes. As someone who doesn’t really have a “thing”–I mean, I can be funny sometimes, and I think I read more books than the average mother of an elementary schoolers, but I dunno–I’ve always felt like I’ve missed out. I don’t play a musical instrument or a sport or make anything with my hands on a regular basis–no skill that I’ve taken time to cultivate and turn into something. I really want that for my kid, whatever it turns out to be.
Unless it’s Minecraft. I might have to exercise my parental veto on that one.
In the last two weeks, JR has gone to school one day–maybe two, I can’t remember WHAT WITH THE FOURTEEN (14) DAYS OF NON-STOP PARENTING THAT HAS TURNED MY BRAIN TO MUSH. We got a little snow, you see. And then a little more snow, and all things came to a grinding halt.
I love my child. But I also love others things, too. Like going to work so we can have food. And talking about things that aren’t Ninjago or who’s the best Powerpuff Girl.*
I’m told they’ll be back in school tomorrow–two hours late, I’ll have you know, but back in school nonetheless. I’ll believe it when I see him walk into his classroom. And then I’ll turn around and run like hell.
Here’s a picture from the 15 minutes JR spent in the snow over the last two weeks.
*JK, I’ll talk about this whenever. Because it’s Bubbles.
(I guess this is when I’m supposed to apologize for not posting for two months. So…sorry? I guess? Really, I doubt you’ve missed me all that much. So let’s just leave it at, “Hey, long time no see!” and be on with it. Good? Good.)
So I recently decided that I hate bedtime.
Not *my* bedtime; my bedtime is a glorious, wonderful, magical thing that never gets here soon enough.
It’s JR’s bedtime that currently reigns as the object of my uttermost loathing these days.
You see, when Ross puts JR to bed, it takes all of 5 minutes. Brush teeth, put on pajamas, read a book, goodnight. When I’m in charge (despite the fact that I’m MUCH more of a hard-ass than my husband), much gnashing of teeth and rending of garments gets thrown into the process.
Ross claims it’s because JR actually cares when I leave the room, so he does everything he can to draw out the process; he’d rather me be in his room yelling at him than *not* in his room *not* yelling at him.
I’m convinced he’s trying to send me to the looney bin so he can spend his days watching Phineas and Ferb and eating his weight in Clementines with nary a mention of such atrocities as “bathing” and “eating a vegetable” and “getting fresh air.”
But the REALLY crazy thing is, even though I hate bedtime with all that I am–the drudgery! the fighting! the whining! the flopping about on the floor!–the only thing I hate more is when I don’t get to do it. No matter what, I want to be the last person my son talks to before he goes to sleep at night.
Perhaps his looney bin plans are working after all…
Today is Labor Day which basically means Summer is over (even though next week’s forecast indicates that Richmond is going to drag her feet about cooling off). Today is also my “Last Monday” with JR.
His school offered us the chance to increase his number of days from 2 to 3, and since he’s getting older, and elementary school is no long very far down the road (WUT.), we decided to make it work. Thankfully, my job working for our church seems to grow at the exact rate I need it to, and this was a good time for me to take on more hours.
We’ll still spend Tuesdays and Wednesdays together, and I think my extra time in the office will allow me to really make those days about our time together, instead of still having to squeeze work in every now and then.
It’s a good thing for us. JR is stoked to have more time with his friends, and even though we’ve got the added expense of an extra day at school, my new hours should be enough to give us a little extra breathing room, financially.
But I’m sad. Saaaaaaaad.
Because here’s the thing: he’ll be gone 3 days a week. Next fall we’re hoping to get him into the pre-K program at our neighborhood public school. Pre-K is all week long and lasts all day (or at least regular school hours). So basically this next phase marks our final days of “being home together” before he’s at school 5 days a week…until he graduates from high school and leaves me forever.
As you can see, I’m feeling a bit dramatic about it. But I don’t care because, dudes, my baby is a boy and he won’t quit growing and it’s really REALLY pissing me off.
Also, here’s a video that has nothing to do with anything; it’s just cute:
I’ve always known that JR favors my side of the family more than Ross’s (at least on particularly noticeable feature like skin tone and hair color), but I still have those moments where I look at him and think, “Whoa. You clearly came from me.”
It’s pretty weird/really awesome.
(One housekeeping note: WordPress is being a jerkface re: comments. Instead of putting spam comments right in the spam section where they belong, they’re all going into moderation. This means I need to sort through all the jibber jabber to find and moderate legit comments from you fine people. Thanks for your patience!)
Before I begin, I’d like us to take a moment of silence to officially mourn the end of our vacation in Hilton Head–a week of sun, naps, and (that most wonderful of wonders) grandparents who are willing to take the morning shift for six days straight.
Anyway, hey! It’s been a while. I bet you didn’t even know we WENT on vacation. Well we did. And it was awesome. I’m thoroughly exhausted, freckled, and hating the fact that we’re home. But I will say that I’m much more willing to return to life as it is now than what it looked like when I was working full-time. If that were still the case I probably would’ve spent yesterday’s eight(ish) ride back up to Richmond weeping and curled up in a ball on the floor of the car. Instead I just pouted a bit and clung desperately to the fact that at least the dogs are being boarded until Monday. Once I pick those (adorable!) jokers up, it’s all over.
Until then, I will stare at these pictures over and over. You should too.
He pretended to sleep for the first 15 minutes of the drive. Then he spent the rest of the time kicking the back of the driver’s seat.
Photo by his Mamaw. I was very much asleep when this was taken.
Swimming was his favorite. He’s still pretty nervous in the water, but I think we’ll have a little fishy by the end of the summer.
Freckles. All I get are freckles.
Mini golf was totally my favorite part of the trip. The kid had The Adorable turned up to 11.
First real ice cream on our last night in town.
Things look to be calming down a tiny bit for the summer, so I’m hoping to spend more time over here. I’ve missed you guys. What have you been up to?