How I Spent February, Part I: At School.

The bottle-nose dolphin, in all her glory.

A piece of paper came home in Michaela's folder in January, announcing the famous annual Whale Museum.  Every child was assigned a whale or dolphin and had to write a pretty impressive report about the animal as well as create a 3D version of the animal to put on display at the Whale Museum.  Parents, teachers and other classes are then invited to come in and see the kids' work on Whale Museum Day.

The assignment suggested modelling clay, paper mache- anything to create this 3D model.  I casually asked Michaela, "Soooooo... what are you going to make yours out of?"  And she quickly answered, "Well, I'm going to sew one, of course."

Well, of course.

So that put the gears in motion: printing out pictures of bottle-nose dolphins, assembling a pattern on our living room floor for the stuffed animal out of manila folders taped together, a rather riotous trip to Joann Fabrics, where Michaela declared, "I'll know the fabric I want to use when I see it...", Mommy worrying that the fabric Michaela chose was too slippery and would be a nightmare to sew (it wasn't), cutting out the fabric, helping Michaela use my new sewing machine, Michaela and Jenna and I stuffing the heck out of it, rearranging the stuffing a dozen times, Michaela hand-sewing the fins and tail on while Mommy coaches, "Even stitches! Use even stitches!!", Michaela and Mommy almost coming to blows over the placement of the blowhole and whether anything would actually be coming out of it.  Dan helped us make the stand for it out of a dowel screwed to a wooden plaque, and VIOLA! A bottle-nosed dolphin for the Whale Museum was born.

She did most of the work, but I think I did all of the fretting about it. 

Michaela at the Whale Museum, showing off her creation.

And really, it turned out great.  She had lots of kids asking her about it at the Whale Museum, including one kid who I swear stood next to it for about ten minutes, petting the side of the dolphin the whole time. 

"Can I keep this when you're done?' he asked Michaela. 

"No way!" she answered.

I had to leave the Whale Museum early to go to Jenna's classroom and teach another lesson from the Junior Achievement curriculum.  I did Junior Achievement for Michaela's class in second grade, and being a mom who is sensitive to the fact that Everything Should Be Equal for All Her Children,, signed up in September to teach JA for Jenna's class, doing all five lessons in the first three weeks of February.  It is a very, very well thought out and easy to teach package of  lessons about working, jobs, community, and money, and is really a lot of fun.  I also like doing it because I like to eyeball the kids in the girls' classes and this is a great opportunity to get to know them better.  In first grade the girls are so sweet and pretty and charming and the boys are just as cute, friendly and guileless.  Every lesson was based on this oversized poster of a community showing houses and businesses and people helping each other. The kids were utterly fascinated by this poster, and repeatedly said, "I wish I could jump into that poster and LIVE THERE!" at the beginning of each lesson.  Which is kind of funny because we live in a really nice town with houses and businesses and people helping each other already.

The tough thing about teaching JA was that I had to do it at the end of day, because Jenna hates having me come into school and then leave, and her teacher thought it would be best if I came right before dismissal.  That meant my whole schedule was screwed up, and Alec got to play those afternoons with my mom, which he loved, but did not get to nap.  Which makes he and I quite cranky.

The fun thing about teaching JA was walking into the classroom, hearing the kids say, "Jenna! Your MOM IS HERE!" and then seeing Jenna's sweet little face light up when she saw me.  It almost makes all those nights she screamed for hours in her crib all worth it.  Not quite, but almost.

It's the Mallard Duck All Over Again.

So there is a famous family story about me that goes like this:  when I was a wee lass of maybe seven or eight, my mom and I were driving on Bender Lane and passed a lovely little pond with mallard ducks swimming on it.  Excited about seeing this little bit of nature, I exclaimed to my mother, "Look, mom, it's a mallard duck!" to which she gave no reply.  "Mom! Look! Mallard ducks!" I tried again.  Getting no answer, I repeated my sentence, thinking that surely she had not heard me.  "Mom! Mallard ducks! LOOK!" to which she quite exasperatedly replied, "YES! OKAY! I see them!  Mallard ducks!"

To my parents, this was a great example of being parents: that your children require an enthusiastic answer for every utterance, and of course that becomes quite exhausting.  I, on the other hand, did not quite understand the big deal about all of this for the longest time.  I was just trying to show my mom the darn ducks, and since 99% of the time, she had always responded to what I said, what was the big deal about this story?

Fast forward thirty years, give or take, and now that little girl has three kids of her own, fighting for her attention, and is ten and a half years into this parenting gig.  And now I have a little boy fascinated by all things construction-related, and every time we pass a work site, Alec says, "Scoop! Scooop! SCOOP!!!" because he thinks every backhoe and digging machine looks like the character of Scoop from Bob the Builder. 

So today, as we are passing a rather impressive work site, Alec starts yelling, "SCOOP! SCOOP!" and I answer, "Yes! I see!"  and things like, "Look at that backhoe!" and "What a big building!"  and he responds to every sentence I say with, "SCOOOOP!!!"

And the only thing that stops him is when I say, "Yes! YES! Scoop! I see Scoop!  I SEE SCOOP!"

And I realize that this is the Mallard Duck Incident all over again.

And I think these stories are also a testament to the lengths children will go to to make sure that they are heard.  And really listened to.

Lip Sync! Lip Sync! LIIIP SYYYYNC!!!!!

Ah, the annual ritual in our school district of the Lip Sync, or as some of the moms call it, Lip Stink.  It is a super fun evening, watching all the kids go up on stage and perform and have their classmates cheer and scream and yell while the parents eagerly videotape and photograph it all until everyone is blind.  That's the great payoff.  But the beginning and middle of the lip sync is a draining grind of planning, emails, rehearsals, costume making, phone calls, and making sure your kids aren't doing anything inappropriate.  But we survived another year!  Only 10 more to go until Alec is out of elementary school!

I put together a little video with highlights from the girls' performances, but Blogger is not letting me upload it.  So to give you a flavor, here are some pics from the night.

 Here is Michaela, whose group did "Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO.  Which is also an acronym for something quite not 5th grade appropriate, but I am hoping she doesn't know that.  It was very bouncy and hip-hoppy and energetic.

And here is sweet Jenna, who danced to a remixed version of  "Do Re Me" from Sound of Music.  Her group was large (12 girls) and did a great job.  One of my projects was making the 12 ties and 24 hair ties that you see pictured. 

Dan and I noticed that there was lots of breakdancing featured in the show, which kind of cracked me up.  Here these parents work their butts off so they can raise their families in a safe, suburban environment and all the kids want to do is look like they are more urban.  (See Michaela's hat and general stance, above.)

It was a fun, loud, happy night.  And I'm super glad that it's done for another year. :)

February, You Win.

Yes! Here I am! Back from the dead (at least in terms of blogging, that is) and actually writing.  February was a killer month for me in many, many ways and I will attempt to catch up in the next few days.  Most of the stuff was good stuff, but there were a few weeks that I just felt like raising a white flag and full-out surrendering.  And then crawling back into bed.

But when you have three wonderful, growing, active children and a great husband that you want to take care of and other things in life requiring attention, you cannot just crawl back into bed.  You press on and think to yourself that you'll rest when you're 60.

(That's when I'll catch up on sleep, scrapbooking, sewing, reading, watching every movie I've wanted to see since 2001, and trying to learn to quilt.  Maybe even can a few jars of dilly green beans.)

So fear not!  More dispatches will be coming henceforth!

(Can you tell that in February I also became seriously addicted to Downton Abbey??)

Watching with the Eye of a Grown Up.

Recently I stumbled across the movie Legends of the Fall, starring Brad Pitt, Aidan Quinn (before anyone was named Aidan), and Anthony Hopkins, released in 1994.  It was playing on Bravo, and I was interested to watch a little of it since I hadn't seen it in literally decades.  When it came out, I was completely mesmerized by it: the hotness of the three sons, the sprawling ranch they lived on out west, the gorgeous music in the movie, and the idea of love gone awry, and the romantic tragedy of falling in love with the wrong brother.

Well, now I'm way past that star struck teenager, and it looks totally different as an adult.

Sure, the music and settings are the same; Brad is still gorgeous beyond belief; the name Tristan is still as exotic and romantic to me now as it was then; and the period touches are still fun to note.

But, my goodness, it is pretty cheesy.

The funny thing is that Michaela and Jenna happened to wander into the room when I was floating down memory lane watching this movie and they were COMPLETELY TRANSFIXED by it.  Completely. Made me DVR it because we had to leave for some reason or another and couldn't watch the last 45 minutes.  They loved it.

For those of you who need reminding, it is the story of three brothers, Alfred, Tristan and Samuel, all bonded to each other and their colonel father, and Samuel returns home from college with a fiance played by a radiant Julia Ormond.  (Really- you can practically see the soft focus halo all around her. She's gorgeous.)  It is clear when Edward and his girl, Susannah, arrive home that she is falling hard for Tristan, and that both he and Alfred have the hots for her.  Tristan and Edward go off to fight in WWI, Edward is killed and Tristan blames himself.  He returns home from fighting and is crushed in every way, yet does help himself to Susanna.  They hook up, Susannah falls madly in love with him, but Tristan clearly has some PTSD issues going on and goes off to find himself.  Susannah, who has been staying at the ranch this whole time, stays behind and promises to wait for Tristan to come back.  Tristan sends her a letter home saying (very dramatically), "What we had is dead, as I am dead. Marry another."  A broken Susannah is again rescued by big brother Alfred, who she marries and settles down with but is unable to have children.  Tristan eventually returns, healthy and GORGEOUS, and marries the ranch hand's daughter and immediately has a few kids.  Susannah is clearly still in love with Tristan and swoons any time she sees him.  I am not terribly familiar with the whole ending as I haven't gotten that far, but you get the gist.

Oh, if I could talk as a grown woman to that Susanna!  She seemed like such a heroine when I was a teenager, and now I see her as so weak willed and only gathering worth from who loves her.  She basically destroyed the entire family and wreaked havoc on the relationships between the brothers.  She was always drawn to the bad boy, the one who got away, and settled, instead of fully moving forward.  Get off that ranch! I want to yell at her.  Go seek your own dreams!  Leave this situation behind!  Don't think you can tame this wild boy... you are not what he really wants.

It is so interesting to see how something in the sweeping romance of the movie really strikes a chord with my girls just as it did with me all those years ago.  Falling in love.  The bonds of family.  The heart being broken and fixed again.  The pull of wanting what you cannot have. And of course, one thing remains untouched by time: Brad  Pitt is super hot.  Doesn't matter how old you are.