Conferences

Wow - I have a lot of catching up to do. Guess I should make more of a concerted effort to blog more often...

Dave and I had been looking forward to conferences since day 1 of first grade. Partially because of all the stuff that went on last year and our instructions to wait and see what this year would bring and partially because of things that grow on volcanoes. We know he's a good reader, but were really prepared to hear about how he's wiggly.

The sheet Henry brought home specifically said that we should make an effort not to bring our student so we arranged for an auntie to hang with the boys, much to his disappointment. He found out that there was a book fair going on and really wanted to go. We assured him that we were definitely planning on hitting the books after the conference and thought that he was cool with that. Especially considering he put in his order of "Goosebumps" that morning and seemed satisfied. But, the wheels must have been turning like crazy in class that day. He had his teacher write him a note that said it was ok if he came along. How's that for problem solving?!

We left the house early so we could go to the book fair first and then meet up with The Boys and my sister-in-law for dinner afterwards. We ended up outside the classroom about 10 minutes early (Goosebumps in hand) and Mr. B had us come in right away (I wonder if the family before us even showed up). For the next 30 minutes, we sat in awe of our little boy.

Ok, so we know he's a good reader. We didn't know that he flies through his math and then walks around and helps other kids figure out the answers. He doesn't tell us these sorts of things. When they were testing for reading levels, Mr. B stopped him at the second grade level. He said he definitely is beyond that (suggested he could probably read Harry Potter), but he wants Henry to focus more on comprehension and discussion rather than on the more technical third grade readings for now. Mr. B said over and over again that he sees great things and went on and on about Henry's potential. He gave us some ideas to get his writing up to his reading level - the only thing he feels The Boy needs to work on in order to get into the Gifted and Talented program. ::big grin from mom::

On hindsight, I wish we would have brought him. It was a Henry lovefest. Sometimes, he seems to have a really low self-esteem, which makes me sad. Sitting in a room while his teacher raved about how smart he is may have done wonders for him. Damn. I hate hindsight.

So, for now, we're finding fun ways to make him write without raising any suspicions or putting any pressure on the kid. He "fixed" a bunch of stuff in the basement yesterday and I had him write up what was wrong and how he fixed it before I was going to accept his $166 worth of "charges". LOL! I had no idea that there was a giant hairball causing our TV stand to wobble. Can you believe it cost us $70 to have that removed?! At least he's fairly realistic...

Where the Wild Things Are

Henry and I went to Where the Wild Things Are last night. Wow. It was so good, yet so sad! I did some reading before we went since there are some out there who think that it is too scary for little kids. Whatever. Granted, Henry really doesn't get scared at movies unless something jumps out from somewhere and then he laughs, which is good. I really didn't see anything frightening other than some big creatures who are a little rough (ok, maybe a lot rough).

The scenery was gorgeous and the creatures were incredible! They looked just like the book and I was amazed at how they were able to show so much emotion. The main difference between the full length film and a 9 page book was how Jonez developed the characters and expanded the story/plot. It's a very sad story about family and the fear of losing that closeness and it wasn't lost on Henry. At one point, as I was wiping tears from my eyes with my napkin I glanced down at Henry. There were tears streaming down his face. I laughed, at both of us, and handed him a fresh napkin. He looked up at me and whispered, "I can't stop crying." Ohhh, my little sweet guy with the heart on his sleeve. He's so my boy. We talked about the movie and the plot on the way home and I think he picked up on much more of the story than I thought he had.

One of the things that bugged me was how they had Max run off to the land in his imagination and how he returns. He gets in trouble and runs out of the house and down the street, his mother chasing after him. He comes back the same way and through the front door. The problem I had was that the land of the Wild Things was so obviously his room, like it is in the book, with the mountains made out of paper towel and toilet paper rolls, the fort he loves so much and the stuffed animals which became the Wild Things. Not that big of a deal, but why couldn't he just have been sent to his room without dinner?

If you have school-aged kids - GO TO THIS MOVIE! If anything, it makes for a great conversation about the unconditional love we should all be experiencing in the confines of our homes.

Fixing Johnny's Little Johnny

Johnny had surgery a week and a half ago to repair a very mild hypospadia. Basically, it's a birth defect of the male variety and John's would have caused him to have to pee sitting down. We've been told all along that his is slight enough that the surgery was optional, but his pediatrician (who is nearly holistic in her approach to medicine) said that, if he was hers, she'd do the procedure - kids are mean. I could never have sent him to school having to use the stall in the boys' bathroom. His pediatrician advised us to stay holed up for the weekend prior to the surgery and to keep germ infested kids away from him. When I told Henry he couldn't hug his little brother for a few days, he got super sad and said, "But I love him!!" What a big brother!

We arrived at the hospital at 6:00 that morning and met with the surgeon and anesthesiologist. Around 7:45, we passed our son off to a complete stranger to knock him out so they could slice up his little Johnny and sew it back together again. Dave and I tag teamed our visits to the cafeteria for breakfast and I took a nap. Woke up just in time to find Dave playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook and to see John's doctor walking in to talk to us. We went to a private room where he diagrammed the repair on a whiteboard and told us that it went really well.

Johnny was already awake when they brought me back. I nursed him and then we were taken back to another post-op observation area to sit and wait. John and I snuggled in the hospital bed and watched Elmo's world. He was so sad and hoarse. I felt so guilty putting him through it, but keep telling myself he won't remember it and will be happier in the long run.

Right??...

My folks spent the rest of the week with us since I didn't want to send John to daycare with the stent and thought he could really use some extra TLC. Gordy took care of a few things that have been on Dave's honey-do list for quite some time (installing the new faucet in the bathroom among other things). I've decided that they should really stay with us more often - ha!

John was pretty needy the day after his surgery, but was acting like his normal self by Thursday. Friday morning, my mom called to tell me that Johnny was up but his stent was completely out. UGH!!! Spent 2 hours trying to get ahold of someone at the surgeon's office that could tell me if I should be freaking out or not. I finally got a nurse on the line and they had me bring him in where they clipped the stitch and sent us on our way. No need to come back for a post-op visit unless the little Johnny isn't looking right. Oh, and we were supposed to keep an eye on his urine stream. Um, he's in diapers. I guess we're supposed to let him wander around naked until he pees.

Anyway, he's doing awesome. Everything is looking great and someday he'll thank us.

Power Plants Grow on Volcanos

We have a phone that announces who is calling when it rings...well, I should say "attempts" to announce. You see, it has a hard time with pronunciations of things such as, oh, SLPK Schools. You see, there are no vowels in SLPK and, well, it's really not a word. So, when the phone rang and I didn't recognize the gibberish coming out of the machine, I didn't rush to check the caller ID.

Shit! It's the school!

I answered too late and wound up running through the house to get to the answering machine, all the while apologizing to whoever was on the other side. I had no idea who it was with all the feedback screeching in my, and presumably the caller's, ear.

So, as I'm running, all the scenarios ran through my head:

1. It's the nurse's office. There's been a terrible accident.
2. It's the school office. Henry missed the bus and he's bawling his eyes out and afraid he's in trouble.
3. It's his teacher. There have been some behavioral issues.

"Hi! I just wanted to call you and let you know that I think Henry is an amazing reader." I recognize the super kid-friendly voice as Henry's teacher.

"Oh! This is Mr. B!"

"Sorry, yes. I'm so impressed with Henry's reading. He must read a lot at home."

I laugh. "He'd read all day if we let him."

"You can tell - he's doing great! He is definitely wiggly. He probably thinks I ride him too hard about that, but I know his potential."

I laugh again. "Yeah, he likes to move."

It turned out he had a little breakdown this afternoon and Mr. B hadn't seen that side of him before and I think he wanted to call to see if maybe he didn't get much sleep last night. No, he got the same amount of sleep as usual. He then continued to rant and rave about how well Henry reads and then told me about something he did that cracked Mr. B up so much that he had to tell Henry's kindergarten teacher. Henry was sitting near the wall reading and wound up doing a push up with his upper body while walking his feet up the wall. The part Mr. B liked was that, with all the moving the rest of his body was doing, his eyes never left his book. He said he had to let him do it for a little bit because he found it so funny, but then reminded him that it wasn't appropriate.

All in all, not a bad first call of the year from the school.

Actually, Henry has grown up quite a bit since this time last year. Everything about him is more grown up and it makes me laugh most of the time. He's also gotten to be quite the story teller. We heard Mr. B was known for bringing in some pretty cool things, but you wouldn't believe what we've heard.

• Mr. B brought in a "power plant". I decided that, after a drawn out description, it must be one of those lightning balls. I'm thinking, cool! Then he tells me that Mr. B told them where the power plants grow - on volcanoes - that's where Mr. B picked his.
• Mr. B brought in a lizard that turned blue. Then he turned green. A chameleon? This is the only story I haven't been able to debunk.
• Mr. B brought in his dog. The dog has the same name as Mr. B. Really? And he was there all day, eh?

I can't wait for conferences LOL!

"Forever In Blue Jeans" - my least favorite Neil Diamond song and the one I remember most from 3rd grade.

OMG I have to dress up for work two days in a row this week! Ok, so the company I work for is strange. Most investment firms are business casual at the least...not us. In the summer, shorts and t-shirts. Cooler weather, jeans and t-shirts. I could wear a different Wilco shirt every day of the week and have, many times. Partly because I'm trying to get a rise out of my boss, but mostly because I'm obsessed with Wilco and really like wearing jeans and t-shirts.

I am actually going offsite to a meeting tomorrow and we have clients coming into the office on Wednesday, thus, I have to look like I work for a mutual fund instead of a college student that crawled out of bed just in time for a quick shower before class.

And I'm not very good at it. In fact, I had to go shopping tonight. I'm down nearly 30lbs from my pre-pregnancy after having Johnny and have managed to keep it off. None of the clothes I had from my previous job fit anymore and wound up at Goodwill. I have one business casual outfit, one suit from 10 years ago that I can't quite get back into yet and one little black dress that isn't something I'd wear to work.

I picked up a pair of black slacks with a subtle bluish gray herringbone pattern and a cool waist and a platinum gray blouse that I'll tuck in. I actually had to use an iron tonight. Didn't know if it even worked if you weren't using it for an DIY iron-on shirt for The Boy. Shockingly, it did. Mother would be so proud.

Oh, and the little blue dress? Looked like crap on me. Sort of like a mu-mu. I looked like I was 11 months pregnant. And it was so cute on the hanger!

"I just want the girl in the blue dress to keep on dancing" - Mike Doughty

I'm stitting in my office downtown, knowing there is a really cute blue dress just a couple of blocks away...on sale, no less. Unfortunately, someone "skimmed" my check card somewhere along the way so I'm waiting patiently for my new one to arrive in the mail. Luckily, the bank flagged one of the transactions - a nearly $400 purchase at a Target down in Bloomington - and called last Friday. I'm still shocked that a large purchase at Target would get flagged considering the amount of money that place gets from us. The perps also filled up several cars at a Holiday Station in St. Paul. The fact they were using the faked card locally leads me to believe it was a "skimmer" and not a hacker that got into someone's website. Either way, I'm pissed. I agreed to prosecute if the bank caught the losers, but I wonder if they really even try. Seems to me, with a time stamp on the transactions and the fact that all the gas stations have video cameras, it wouldn't be too difficult to go back and find a license plate number or two. We'll see.

Hot = young blonde country singer?

Henry did one of those sudden maturity level jumps somewhere along the line recently. I'm thinking it's due to having a whole summer around a couple of 8 and 9 year olds at daycare. The other day I was told that Taylor Swift is hot. Really? Not according to my lesbian niece, but, ok. Does he know what "hot" means? He defines it as beautiful. Ok, I know he has an understanding of beauty so he must honestly think Taylor Swift is hot. I just Googled her and, well, I can understand how a boy might like to look at that.

He's got a buddy over here tonight while his folks are at the Twins game and they are playing video games. Henry does this thing where he color commentates throughout the game in a really annoying voice. I'm going to need to break him of that. It's fun to see him with a good friend hanging out and doing what boys do (which is call each other names and laugh, apparently). The buddy is getting tired, however, and I'm really glad the baseball game didn't go into extra innings. He's not pretty when he's tired.