wrapper collection

I had some tangerine peels to throw away at the playground and so I went back to the car and found a small trash bag full of wrappers and such. I walked happily back into the playground, stuffing trash in the sack. Simone saw me and started crying and running for me at the same time. I was baffled. She was shouting, "No, No Mommy! That's my wrapper collection!" I could not choke back my laughter. This little plastic bag of trash was her special wrapper collection. She thought I'd lost my mind. She kept asking, "Why are you laughing, Mommy?" It was just so surprising to me.

Roen is about the same. His room is currently full of all sorts of trash. He's been raiding the recycle bin to build a space station and variety of drop ships and the like. It was taking up the living room, so I moved it all back to his room. He loves it still but his room looks a fright -- full of milk cartons, tin cans, bottles and other bits of refuse. I am waiting for him to tire of it so I can swoop in and make it disappear. I love his creativity though. He always impresses me that way.

miscommunications

We started our co-op school this week. The kids liked it but we had a bit of miscommunication that was funny. For one, I signed up Simone for a Flamenco dancing class. She was a little skeptical about taking it. I didn't understand why until yesterday when she was standing around on one leg trying to figure out how to dance. She thought I had enrolled her in a flamingo dance class. ah - ha

The second miscommunication involved Roen, whose Chess class was canceled. He was disappointed. I told him not to worry as there would be a make-up class instead and he looked so appalled and said he didn't want any make-up class. I was a little baffled until I realized he was thinking make-up as in cosmetics rather than make-up as in a substitute class. he he

butter

We read the book, Snipp, Snapp, Snurr and the Buttered Bread by Maj Lindman, which is an old fashioned Swedish book. It's sweet and simple. Then, we made butter by vigorously shaking up cream in a jar. It takes quite a bit of shaking. The kids really loved it and the butter tasted so much better than store bought butter. It has a much fresher and creamier taste. The kids really want to make butter again so I thought I might buy a little butter churn for them so they could do more of the work. Surprisingly, you can still buy butter churns but they are very dear. They cost over $100, so I think we'll be sticking with the jar method.

Merci for voting!

I went to vote today and the place was mostly empty which was nice because I took Roen and Simone with me. I walked up to my table and said my last name. The man gave me a quizzical look and asked if that was spelled with a K. I said, " No, a C. It's French" I thought that would help him understand my "peculiar" last name. He found me on the list and in a halting,loud voice (a voice typically reserved for the mentally handicapped or non-english speakers) asked me if I had ever voted before. I was perturbed and asked if they wanted to see my driver's license. He said he believed me and that he didn't need to see it. Another election judge intervened and informed me that she could speak French. I wanted to say, "Good for you!" but I didn't. I just smiled politely. She then told me that she belonged to the Allez Francais group right here in Rochester. I still wasn't seeing the connection to voting but I just smiled and nodded because I really had no idea how to respond. Then, she proceeded to tell me in a mix of slow English and halting high school French that she would demonstrate the voting machine for me. Think of Pepe Le Pew here. She demonstrated all the levers for me. She was so eager to be helpful I didn't have the heart to tell her I was just another American. I just let her continue and bit my cheeks to keep from laughing out loud. Roen and Simone were so puzzled by the lady talking strangely to mommy. When we came out of the booth, she gave a sticker and said, "Merci for voting!" I barely made it outside without laughing. I can just see those guys feeling good about helping the recently naturalized French girl to vote. ah. It was a hoot.

black holes

Ro: "Life was so much better before I knew about black holes."

It's so hard not to laugh at the melodrama in their voices sometimes. He should just go ahead and say, "My life is ruined and tainted at age seven because of PBS." A glimpse of a Nova show on black holes seared his mind with a picture of a man getting sucked into a black hole. Science shows can be scary. We just got a video called SolarMax from Netflix that left us all feeling a bit edgy. It really hammered home that the sun is a dangerous ball of burning fire in the sky and we can all be thankful we have a magnetosphere.

over enthusiastic nursing

I don't think anyone loves me as much as daughter. She's such a little mother hen sometimes. I was sick and I just wanted to lie on the couch and sleep. This is a complete impossibility even when she has videos to watch. She can't stop petting my head and giving me kisses and surrounding me within a loving circle of her furry friends. My husband says she had me surrounded with plastic food and teacups at one point as well. I think I was pretty out of it at that point because I don't remember it. I never have the heart to tell her to LEAVE ME ALONE!!!! PLEASE!!! It's so hard to be sick when your kids are well and chipper and bouncing off the walls.

popsicle paint

It was a warm evening at soccer practice. Simone got her usual frozen treat after Roen's game was done. It was a fudgesicle. She was standing right in front of me eating the popsicle or so I thought. Then, she turned around and I gasped in horror. She had painted her hands, arms and face with the fudgesicle and was now an extraordinarily brown and sticky child. I don't carry wipes around with me anymore, so I was totally appalled and started the slow march across three soccer fields to get her to the bathrooms to throw water on her or something. Fortunately, a very kind father of four saw me coming and pulled out a gob of wipes and handed them to me. I could've wept with gratitude.