Back to school night questions...

Yesterday we went to back-to-school night, which is apparently different from the back-to-school afternoon we attended previously. The former was an orientation night and the latter was simply a meet-your-teacher event.

We all met in the gym/cafeteria/auditorium for a brief session with the PTA/principal and then had two twenty-minute break-out sessions in our children's classrooms. Andrew's in San Fransisco right now so I was left to figure out how to get to three information sessions in only two allotted time periods. The principal noted this might be a problem for some and just kind of shrugged his shoulders.

Since Miriam's teacher was out for a funeral (and Miriam had skipped back-to-school night to go on a bike ride with Grandpa), we skipped her orientation meeting and went to Benjamin and Rachel's before swinging by her classroom to pick up her handout and leave a note on her desk.

It was storming by the time we got out so the kids and I made a break for it, only to stumble upon a blue van with an Obama sticker on the back. "Huh," I thought to myself. "I wonder who else in Utah has a blue van with an Obama sticker on the back." And then it hit me: probably no one—that was my van!

Grandpa and Miriam had come to rescue us (and a good thing, too, because we'd just barely crossed the street in front of the school and were well on our way to being drenched).

As the thunder boomed (and rumbled and rolled and roared and crashed...and shook our whole house) and the children were falling asleep (kinda sorta, not really (except for Zoë who fell asleep before the thunder began)) I researched a few things that were spouted off during orientation that didn't sit quite right with me.

Benjamin's first day of kindergarten

The long-awaited day has come at last! Benjamin finally had his first day of kindergarten. Waiting for the day to come was particularly difficult this past week while his sisters were at school and he was staying home, pining for his classroom experience to begin.

He really did a pretty good job of getting up and getting ready, though I lost count of how many times I had to remind him to continue eating his breakfast. 

"Keep eating. Chew. Take another bite. You need to put all that food in your belly, bud."

"But I am eating."

"No, you are staring off into space. Take another bite."

He can be a bit of a slow poke in the mornings and making him get dressed has been the bane of my life for the past several years. And that's why I'm glad he's in AM kindergarten—this way it only takes me an hour to get the kids ready and off to school rather than taking all stinking morning, as I'm sure it would if he were to be in a PM class.

Benjamin picked out his NASA shirt and a pair of plaid shorts that he was quite proud of (though his Daddy thought his outfit was a little bit goofy (it was the NASA shirt and crocs combination that really bothered him, I think, but I don't think Benjamin will give those up very easily—he has other shoes but he always wants to wear his crocs)). I think he looked very handsome. 

He wanted his first-day-of-school pictures with the mountains behind him.

"Did you get the mountains?" he asked after I took his picture. "Make sure you get the mountains, Mom."

DUPLOS on a Sunday

On Sunday the kids were all upstairs playing with DUPLO and, most impressively, actually getting along. Zoë is grown up enough now that she can happily play alongside the big kids (when she's not in a tear-all-the-towers-down mood) and even contribute to their games.

She made a "baybo" (table) all by herself and began seating "diddo-dies" (little guys) all around the table so that they could "eat ninner" (eat dinner). Every little guy got a specially selected chair, according to their colour preference, I guess. 

 

Learning and loving

Benjamin had his kindergarten assessment on Thursday and the results were...interesting. He already had an assessment in Durham and they seemed satisfied with the level he was at—he can use scissors and stack LEGO and while he is by no means an expert, he is familiar with letters, numbers, colours, and shapes. They gave him a little book about starting kindergarten and sent him home excited to return at the beginning of the school year (although at that point we were 99% sure we wouldn't be there anymore).

This time the assessment was more academically rigorous: basic math, phonetics, and so forth.

He really didn't perform well. In fact, he performed fairly abysmally.

In his defense, he was highly distracted. What he really wanted to do was explore the kindergarten playground and he found the classroom itself too...new...to really focus on any task he was given (I could see his little head bobbing around, trying to take everything in). On one facet of the assessment (dealing with the alphabet) he scored a 2/26. He knows more than two sounds, I assure you. And he can identify every letter, though for some (understandable) reason he often mixes up S and Z and a few other pairs like that.

He can't count to twenty without skipping around in the teens.

He can't, he can't, he can't...

I was told a whole lot about what he "can't" and then I was told a whole bunch of things that we need to be doing at home to help get him to where he needs to be. I suppose that's the downside of half-day kindergarten.

How can we expect half-day kindergarten children to be prepared for the rigours of grade one in half the time (2.5 hours, really) as their full-day kindergarten peers? Easy: lots and lots of homework.

The Grotto

Andrew had planted the idea of hiking Y Mountain with the children this morning but we neglected to remember that football season is upon us. When we realized there was a football game on campus today we decided it would be best to steer clear of the area, so we looked up some other hikes we could do in the Spanish Fork area.

We settled on hiking The Grotto on the Nebo Loop (on Mt. Nebo, if that wasn't obvious). It's an easy 0.3 mile hike so we figured even I could tag along (I was not going to hike the Y with them because I'm not supposed to do anything "strenuous," though I am supposed to exercise). The kids were in awe the entire drive up to the trailhead. 

"Look at how big the mountains are!" they exclaimed.

"These," we corrected them, "Are just the foothills."

"What??!?!" the kids said. "But they look as tall as Grandfather Mountain and that's a mountain!"

Grandfather Mountain is the tallest mountain they could think of, having climbed to the peak when Benjamin was Zoë's age. "At 5,946 feet (1,812 m), it is the highest peak on the eastern escarpment of the Blue Ridge Mountains," according to Wikipedia. So, yes, it's 5,946 feet above sea level, but its prominence is a mere 2,444 feet. Mount Nebo, on the other hand has an elevation of 11,929 feet and a prominence of 5,489 feet.

That's mind-blowingly large to our little Appalachian babies. It also meant the "easy" hike was a little more strenuous for us than, say, that time we hiked Mt. Occoneechee while I was expecting Zoë. But we all survived it and had a good time.

In which I am sad

I rarely buy maternity clothes. I guess by the time I'm big enough to justify needing them I only have a few weeks left and I refuse to buy clothes to use for only a few weeks. Plus, although I've been pregnant for 182 months of my life (that's 3.5 years)...and counting...we've never actually come into any money in all that time. This means I hit a point every pregnancy where I just feel a tad bit frumpy—like I'm stretching too-small t-shirts over my belly, like I'm wearing pants I picked up at a swap meet (and sewed over a gaping hole in them), like I'm piecing together everything with 11-year-old bella-bands.

But every time I've been pregnant (except, perhaps with Miriam) I've also justified getting a couple new items. With Rachel because she was my first, with the last three because I'm medically constrained from giving into anything a pregnant lady might ever crave so I figure if we're spending $0 on whimsical cravings we can spend a few dollars on allowing me to feel cute every now and then. Also, I've tried to select things that it might be possible to wear after the baby comes (like that black dress I've been wearing over leggings—it's not from the maternity section and should fit me just fine post-baby but also fits fine now, so win-win).

When we went to Target for back-to-school shopping, though, we walked past the maternity section and everyone went a little wild over this little plaid number and insisted that I should get it. It wasn't even on sale, guys, but Andrew said to go for it because he actually has a job now and getting one shirt wasn't going to break the bank.

I wore it on eclipse day and it was great. I paired it with leggings and it covered both my belly and my bottom, which I was happy about because with my long torso I have trouble finding much of anything to pair with leggings (nothing is long enough to cover everything I think needs to be covered unless we enter into the too-short-of-dresses category). I felt cute and everything was hunky-dory.

And then I washed it and—according to the label—dried it and put it on this morning and...

I was so sad.

Brigadoon

Last night my mom treated Rachel, Miriam, and me (and my friend Marquita and her daughter Maya (since Josie and Rosie bailed on us)) to the theatre at BYU. We went to see Brigadoon, a show we're fairly unfamiliar with, because we knew so many people performing in it. The Thomas family, Uncle David's ex-girlfriend Jess, and one of my mom's students. It was fun to see them perform and the show was really well done—the singing was phenomenal! 

It was originally on at the Scera Shell in Orem but Education Week sponsored the show to do a run at the De Jong Concert Hall, which is where we saw it. 

I had seen the movie, featuring Gene Kelly, of Brigadoon years ago at the Torrie's house but aside from remembering the setting—a disappearing/reappearing village in Scotland—and the fact that it was a love story, the plot was basically a surprise for me. I was even quite surprised when they started singing, "Almost Like Being in Love" because I know that song! I had no idea it was from a musical, let alone this musical. It's such a familiar song to me that it almost broke the spell on stage for me, seeming to be out of place (even though it was exactly where it belonged).

School (and pre-school) adventures

With Benjamin's free days at home ticking away, we decided to treat ourselves to an adventure today. It felt a little funny to be doing an adventure—just the three of us—while Rachel and Miriam are at school. Zoë keeps asking about where they are and when they'll be coming back. Benjamin asked if I was sure we should do this without them. I assured him that I was positive.

It wasn't a grand adventure by any means, just a little jaunt to some green space by the train tracks to watch for trains. He's been hoping to watch one go by, but we haven't been lucky enough to catch one yet. Today was no different, which was kind of disappointing (but not really because Benjamin is too optimistic of a person to remain disappointed for long). We did see several small planes, had a picnic, tossed around some frisbees, and sat in the shade for some story time—all good things, all good things.

As volatile as their relationship seems at times, I think Zoë is going to have a hard time sending This Boy off to kindergarten (even if it's only half-day). "This Boy" because she will not, will not, will not say his name. She adores him. She antagonizes him. But she will not say his name. 

First day of school for the big girls

We took the kids back-to-school shopping (which is getting mighty pricey with three kids going back to school—new shoes for everyone!) last week but we still hadn't had their back-to-school day yet and had no supply lists for the teachers. 

Our back-to-school day was yesterday and I was a little worried about squeezing in a run to the store for school supplies on the eve before the first day of school, but—you guys!—we've stumbled upon one of those mythical schools that provides supplies for the students!

When we walked into Rachel's classroom, every desk had a stack of notebooks and workbooks, a pencil case full of pens, pencils, and erasers, everything they'd need was right there. It was like Christmas! Miriam's classroom was much the same, except that her supplies were already inside her desk, labeled and everything. All of Benjamin's supplies were tucked into his classroom cubby. 

All we had to do was pull off a "wish star" or two to fulfill for the teacher—things like ziplock bags and pencils and snacks and cleaning wipes (things that were also on our lists at Easley). 

The girls thought it was weird to only be loading their lunch boxes into their backpacks this morning because (a) they're used to being so laden with supplies they're almost falling over on the first day of school and (b) this is the first year we've really packed lunches. 

They were both up and dressed before either Andrew or I got up. They practiced the piano, helped unload the dishwasher, had some reading time, and were chomping at the bit to get out the door well before it was time to go. 

Partial Eclipse

This was our second solar eclipse viewing as a family. The first was on May 20, 2012 in Grover, Utah. That was an annular eclipse, which is when "when the Moon's apparent diameter is smaller than the Sun's, blocking most of the Sun's light and causing the Sun to look like an annulus (ring)."

All of a sudden May 20th is seeming like it's cutting it pretty close for a camping trip off in Middle-Of-Nowhere, Utah, considering Benjamin was born June 3rd. And that's why I won't be joining the family in Grover over Labour Day weekend this year—it just seems to be cutting it pretty close for a camping trip in Middle-Of-Nowhere, Utah, considering I'm at risk for preterm labour (thanks, Benjamin).

Andrew and I also watched (some of) the transit of Venus a couple of days after Benjamin was born. We were walking around the hospital (UVRMC, up on the third floor) and stumbled across a man using a welding mask to watch the eclipse and he said, "You have to see this!" so we stopped to take a little peek.* 

There wasn't all the hubbub about fake glasses and/or going blind, like there was this time around. We ordered a couple of different varieties of glasses from Amazon. One of them was later "recalled" because they couldn't produce the proper paperwork for Amazon, but the other glasses checked out and were from an official vendor so we were well-supplied. And thank goodness! People were buying flimsy cardboard glasses for upwards of $15.00 (I know this because that was the price a friend found them for a couple of days before the eclipse; she bought 25 pairs (the minimum order) and was able to sell every pair she didn't need)!

We considered driving north to Idaho so we could view the total eclipse (and so we could visit Auntie Em!) but we didn't want to get stuck in traffic coming back because today was the kids' back-to-school afternoon and we didn't want to get stuck in traffic at all because pregnant lady and toddler. So instead we just stuck around home and watched the partial eclipse; it was about 90% totality. 

100% would have been cooler, but it looks like we'll have another shot at that in six years or so.

"Yeah, when I'm sixteen," Rachel pointed out.

I wish she'd stop doing stuff like that.

Anyway, our partial eclipse was pretty neat! We could see it from our front yard just fine but Andrew insisted it would be cooler at the park, so we walked down there.

Rachel checking out the eclipse