A School Year Summary

A week after her graduation celebration, Oo had her last day of preschool. The teachers kept it a low-key day, sticking close to the daily routine. Oo was nervous before the last day. She had a hard time sleeping and was afraid her teachers will soon forget her. But when I picked her up after school that last day, she was bouncy and cheering, "Summer break! Woo-hoo!" Seriously?? I thought a few more years would pass before I'd hear her say that.

And so, we celebrated the last day just as we had celebrated the first: eating ice cream! Here's a picture of the more recent of the two trips to our favorite ice cream shop. She's striking a "fancy" pose.


For this next picture, I told T to say, "Ice cream." Instead, he said, "Ice cream cheese!" He cracked himself up with that one; he's still laughing about it.


Throughout the year, Oo's teachers did a GREAT job photographing the kids and sharing the pics with us parents. Below are some shots of Oo at school.

Playing with new friends during the first week.


Hunting for pumpkins before Halloween.


Making a ghost storybook for Halloween.


Muffins with Mom Day.


Celebrating her 5th birthday. (And no, that huge cake is not real, but the candles are.)


A visit from Santa.


Celebrating the Winter Olympics with some games of their own.


Posing with a flag we created as a family to represent her one-person Olympic "team."

Doughnuts with Dad Day.


Handing out valentines for her classmates.


Oo and one of her best friends during the Pledge of Allegiance.


Oo and that friend during the Easter party. (Much to Adrian's displeasure, the two have already professed their love for each other. Me?... I think it's sweet.)


So that was her school year through Easter. When the teachers send pics from the rest of the year, I'll share any good ones.

What a great school with amazing teachers! I'm looking forward to sending T there in a couple years. Oo's also looking forward to it; she thinks that with T there her teachers will be able to remember her.

I don't think she has anything to worry about. Each of her eight teachers (yes, I said eight) told me how sad they were to see her go and how they wished she was coming back next year. Oo's a lovey, sweet girl. I'm lucky to have the whole summer ahead to have her home with me.

Haircut

Oo decided a couple months ago that she wanted short hair for warm weather and long hair for cold weather. I had to explain on many occasions that if she cuts her hair in the spring, it probably won't be long again once fall rolled around. I'm not sure she believes me. Who knows? Maybe she'll prove me wrong.

Yesterday was the big day. Adrian knew that a new haircut was coming, but he didn't know when; Oo wanted to surprise him. Her plan is to also surprise her teachers and classmates. When she first decided to cut her hair, she told me that she needed to cut it before summer vacation because she wants to go to school and have everyone tell her how beautiful her new haircut is. (She is her mother's daughter.)

Daddy was totally surprised yesterday, as were all the neighbors we saw. Oo was so thrilled every time she saw a new person to show off her hair to that she bounced up and down like a caffeinated child. With each meeting, I had to tell the excited blur to stand still so that the person could actually SEE her hair.

Here are the before and after shots. I know that she would LOVE to hear more reactions to her new do, so if you want to send Oo a message via the blog or an email to me, I'll be sure to pass it along to her!

Before:


After: (I also had to beg the jumping bean to stand still for this picture. Notice how she's squeezing herself with her arms... she's literally physically trying to restrain herself from jumping.)

Graduation? Really?!?

When Oo was three, I had no plans of sending her to preschool. I didn't go to preschool. Besides, even at three, Oo was quite the little smarty pants. The idea of her going to preschool just seemed like a pointless exercise.

But the more moms I talked to, the more I realized that almost EVERY kid goes to preschool nowadays. Seriously, in the past few years I have yet to meet a mom my age-ish who wasn't or didn't send their child to preschool. Still, I wasn't sure Oo needed it.

When conversations about kindergarten began in my circle of mom-friends, I learned how much a child is expected to know these days BEFORE they go into kindergarten. I thought, "Wow! Really?? I think that's great!" Kids are sponges able to absorb all kinds of info. They WANT to learn; they want to know how to manipulate their world and be as independent as possible. Why not give them a jump start? I also thought of the social disadvantage Oo might have if—unlike other kids—she were not exposed to a classroom setting prior to kindergarten.

At the urging of a friend, we did a preschool trial-run (see blog post from Sept. 2008) when Oo was three. She was eager to go to school, so we signed her up for a once-a-week preschool class. She hated it! The things taught in that class were so basic that Oo was bored out of her mind. You should've seen the look on her face after her first class: totally bummed, utterly disappointed.

A year later, I decided we should find a preschool for her, an affordable school that would challenge her and that had a warm, loving environment . A tall order! Following some advice from a former co-worker, I visited a school and met with its teachers. It was exactly what I was looking for but didn't expect to find!

In this past year, the school surpassed my expectations. Every teacher (and there were a lot of them—3 teachers for every 18 students!) was genuinely loving toward the children. Oo was challenged and encouraged, hugged and gushed over. At the start of every school day, she bounced out of the car with a huge smile on her face. And when I picked her up after school, that huge smile was still there. The teachers nicknamed her "Smiley" and always let me know how much they enjoyed her joyful personality.

Wednesday night was her graduation ceremony and spring concert. In my mind, preschool and kindergarten graduations are utterly superfluous. Why not save the big graduation event for big academic accomplishments? And so, as I baked cookies for the post-ceremony reception, I tried to think of some genuine words of praise to say to Oo on her graduation night that didn't reveal that I thought the whole thing was pure silliness.

As I thought, I began to realize just how much she really did accomplish. Not just learning to write legibly, cut with scissors (I never let her use them prior), and color within the lines. She learned how to be a thoughtful member of a big group. She learned it's okay if our friends want to play with someone else for a change. She witnessed a little bad behavior and took ownership of her own behavior, feeling very proud that she never got into trouble. She made many crafts and was delighted to see how much she is capable of creating. She learned that, in addition to family members, many people love her because of who she is.

And the list goes on and on. By the time the last batch of cookies was in the oven, the kids were asleep in bed and I couldn't wait for graduation day to come. I was excited for Oo, and also, I couldn't wait to see the teachers and gush over them for a change.

Below are pictures of our graduate. We also took some video—I figured a way around our camera-laptop compatibility issue—but the "cinematography" is really bad. I don't dare show it for fear you get seasick from the shaky camera.

Here is our proud girl holding her diploma.


Walking down the aisle after the ceremony. So beautiful!


Hanging out at the post-graduation reception, or as T called it, "The Cookie Party!"

Even though Oo graduated, she still has one week left of school. The school likes to end the year with an ice cream social and a few days of their normal routine before the kids say good-bye to their teachers and friends. Oo told me she's going to miss everyone. Me too. Until, that is, T goes there in two years!

Bed, Bed & Beyond

First of all, thank you to those who answered my plea in the last posting and signed Jamie Oliver's petition. As promised, since more signatures were added, I'm posting more pics and stories of the kids:

Last weekend, Adrian and I dropped the kids off with grandparents and headed to Ikea for some fun shopping. Our mission: 1) a twin bed for Oo so that T could move out of the crib and into Oo's toddler bed; 2) new bedding to fit Oo's new bed; and 3) a bookcase for T. After a four-hour round-trip drive and four hours in the store (there's just so much to look at!!), we were successful. And since the kids were having an overnighter with the grandparents, we were able to come home, disassemble the crib, assemble the new bed and bookcase, rearrange the rooms, and wash the new bedding. All that and we were still able to go to bed by 3am!

Waking up without children bouncing on us was a very weird experience. You'd think that we'd want to enjoy the quiet morning, leisurely sipping hot coffee and reading the newspaper uninterrupted, but we were too anxious to get the kids and bring them home. You see... they knew nothing about our redecorating plans. All of this was a total surprise.

We played it cool when we got home. Adrian went upstairs first and convinced T to tag along with him. We figured that it would be best to let T see the changes first—giving him a chance to react in his own laid-back way. We knew that if Oo was the first one to see the bedrooms there would be so much squealing and jumping around that we wouldn't really get to hear T's reaction to the whole thing.

We videotaped the kids' reactions (darn cute footage), but ARGGG! our video camera is not compatible with our laptop—a frustrating discovery I made this week. Alas, since I cannot show you the video as I had planned, I took some pictures yesterday. I hope the pics will give you an idea of how thrilled they were to see their new rooms.

The picture below is T standing in front of his new "Book Club." He always refers to Oo's bookcase as her "Book Club" (which drives Oo nuts), and now he has a Book Club of his very own. A decorating aside: the curtains were purchased at Ikea eight years ago, and the striped canvas bins were purchased at Target this week. A perfect match. What amazing luck!


T insisted I take the following picture of him playing with his moose, named Chocolate.


And below is T on his big-boy bed. He's excited about it, but he's a little worried about his crib, which we put in the attic before we brought the kids home. "Where'd my crib go? I think it went up into the sky!" Is he talking about a crib heaven??

In the picture there are two sharks. On the pillow is T's shark, Speeka. While Adrian and I were shopping for Oo's new bedding and curtains, etc., we began to feel like T was getting short-changed, so we bought him a stuffed animal—a shark that is a much bigger version of Speeka. T has named the new shark... you're not going to believe this... Big Speeka. The shark was definitely THE highlight of the new decor as far as T is concerned.


Below is a picture of T and Oo wearing "hats."


And now for Oo's room! Oo's new bed is a twin-sized mid-loft. A two-rung ladder on the side gets her up to her bed. The ladder has proven to be a major source of entertainment for the kids. Up the ladder. Down the ladder. Up the ladder. Down the ladder. Up the ladder. You get the picture.


We put the bed where her Book Club used to be. The loft fits very nicely there and, despite it's height, it doesn't make her room feel crowded. The empty curtain rod on the wall is where a quilt used to hang. I'll be moving the quilt over to another wall and hanging her name alongside her bed. Like her tiara? She insisted on wearing it for these pictures.

Below is Oo with her books. I confess... I posed her for this picture. She doesn't normally rest her feet on the ottoman. She'd much rather use it as a step stool to help her reach the fragile keepsakes we keep on top of her dresser.


The next picture shows the play space below Oo's bed. We outfitted it with a few floor pillows and a small table and lamp. I have sheer, sparkly, hot pink curtains to hang across the opening; I just need to fire up the ol' sewing machine (yuck!) to hem the bottoms. I also need to hem her new window curtains—they match her bedspread.


Aside from the kids' total surprise and delight with their rooms, there have been a few reactions that we were not expecting. The first of these is that the kids don't crawl into our bed in the middle of the night, every night. In the past week, Oo and T have only had one instance each of sneaking into our bed. Are they more comfortable in their new beds? Do they think our bed is lame compared to theirs? I don't know; I don't care. I'm just glad I'm not getting kicked and elbowed in the head every morning.

The next reaction we weren't expecting is that both kids are sleeping later. On Friday, T didn't get up until 8:15. EIGHT FIFTEEN!! This from the child who used to be happy to start his day at 5:30.

Another unforeseen reaction: T doesn't want to be rocked at bedtime anymore. When we rearranged T's room, Adrian wanted to put the rocking chair in the attic. The sentimental mom in me crumbled when I heard this. So much baby-mom bonding happened in that chair. Many bottles were fed while mom and baby locked eyes with each other. Slow rocking and lullabies ended every evening for the past five years. Many long, middle-of-the-night wakings were toughed out in that chair. Boo-boos and upset stomachs were soothed away with big hugs and rocking in that chair. A library full of books were read in that chair. I wasn't ready to put the chair in the attic. Uh-uh. No way.

But I guess I'll have to part with the chair soon anyway. Not only does T not want to rock to sleep in it, he doesn't want to read bedtime stories in it anymore either. Right after brushing his teeth, he climbs into bed and asks me to turn out the light. All T needs at night is Purple Bunny, Speeka, and Big Speeka, snuggled up with him in his tiny little bed. It's amazing to see him suddenly so independent.

It is also amazing that the kids are able to sleep so soundly. You would think they'd be roused by Adrian and I tip-toeing into their rooms over and over again to see how content and cute they look sleeping in their new beds. Hmmm... I wonder if I could take some pics to show you...

"Zzzzzzzz... BRIGHT FLASH! Waaaaaaah!! What was that? Mom, that scared me! I need to sleep in your and daddy's bed!"

Um, yeah. Sorry. Those pics aren't going to happen.

Food Revolution

Children today are expected to live 10 years LESS than their parents.

Thirty-two percent of our nation's children are obese or overweight.

Shocked? Horrified? I am.

Maybe you've seen ads for Chef Jamie Oliver's TV show "Food Revolution" — named after a health movement he has organized. And hopefully you've even tuned in to watch an episode or two. The premise: Jamie Oliver is putting his whole heart into changing the health of our children. His approach involves improving school lunches by replacing things like chicken nuggets, frozen pizza and french fries with fresh food and locally grown produce. Among other things, Jamie is teaching lunch ladies how to cook from scratch, showing school administration how to purchase healthy food within their budget, and most importantly, making Americans aware of the crap that we're feeding ourselves and our children. (I've included a few links below if you want to learn more.)

As part of his health movement, Jamie is asking for people to sign a petition. This petition is a show of hands — to show government and industry how many of us care about the health of children and what they get fed at school. The petition reads as follows:

I support the Food Revolution. America's kids need better food at school and better health prospects. We need to keep cooking skills alive.

That is all it says. A simple statement about a serious problem. Please add your voice to the 522,234 people who have signed to date. Click here to sign the petition online.

For more information:

- Check out this speech given by Jamie. You won't regret spending 20 minutes of your time to watch it.

- Watch this promo for the Food Revolution show.

- Visit Jamie's Food Revolution website.

Okay, so you sign the petition, and I will promise lots of updates on the kids in my next blog post. And believe me, we've been busy around here — there is a lot to fill you in on.

Hugs!

Quick Quote

After T had been sitting on the potty for a while, I went into the bathroom to check on him.


Me: Hey bubby, are you all done?

T: No, I not all done. I trying to poop out a rainbow.

Me: A rainbow?!?

T: Yeah, a rainbow. First I gonna poop out red and orange and lellow and even violet!


You know, I never in my life imagined that I could feel apprehensive about seeing a rainbow. Until now.

Doing the Bunny Bop

When she was younger, Oo and her bops were good buddies. And since using a bop was not affecting her speech development, I wasn't too concerned about breaking her of the habit. I even thought that she may give them up on her own. She loved/loves to talk and the bop kind of got in her way, so she weened herself down to using it just when she was sleepy or needed a little comfort.


However, once T was born, I grew tired of keeping track of two sets of bops—keeping them clean, making sure they weren't interchanged with the other kid's bops, and always knowing where the bops were at naptime or bedtime. So, shortly after Oo turned 3, we took her bops away.

Following a friend's advice, we gave Oo's bops to Santa's baby reindeer. On Christmas Eve, Oo lovingly put ALL of her bops on a plate next to the cookies for Santa and carrots for the reindeer. You see, we had been let in on a little secret: Santa leaves a special, extra present for children who give their bops to the baby reindeer. Great opportunity to break the bop habit, right? Wrong!! After we put Oo to bed, we had some final preparations for Santa's visit and we needed to wrap the presents from Mommy and Daddy. But instead, we were kept very busy consoling a sad little girl who was too upset to fall asleep.

This Christmas, T was just a couple weeks shy of turning 3—a good age, we think, for giving up bops. Needless to say, we did NOT give them to the baby reindeer. Taking a different approach, we checked a book out of the library called "Little Bunny's Pacifier Plan," in which a dentist gives a gentle (and far more sane) plan for breaking Little Bunny of his bop habit. Step 1: the bop never leaves the house. Step 2 (a week later): the bop stays in his bedroom. Step 3 (another week later): the bunny has to sit in the chair in his room to use his bop. Step 4: he gets tired of spending time in his chair and realizes there's more fun to be had without the bop. T liked to use his own bop to act out the story when I read it, and without any suggestion from me, he declared that he, too, had a bop plan. His plan mirrored that in the book.


We had five strong days of Step 1, before T started sneaking bops outside in his pockets. And often, while driving merrily along in our car, I would suddenly tune in to the "slurk, slurk" sound of him sucking on his bop in the back seat. It looked like I would have to renew the book with the library for three more weeks, and start over with Step 1.

Or... (insert angel choir singing an epiphanous "Aaaaaaaaa" here)... we could just donate the bops to the Easter Bunny's babies. Yes! Adrian and I decided that's what we'd do. After all, prepping the house for the Easter Bunny isn't nearly as involved as getting ready for Santa.

After plans were set with the Easter Bunny, I excitedly told T about the special gift the Easter Bunny gives to children who give their bops to the baby bunnies. And thanks to the illustrations in "Little Bunny's Pacifier Plan," it was really easy for T to visualize baby bunnies sucking on bops.

On Friday night, we did a test-run. Fridays are Movie Night, so it was late (9:15) before the kids were going to bed. It was Adrian's turn to rock T and read him a bedtime story. As always, T asked for his bop, but Adrian said he didn't know where T's bop was. T responded, "I just want to go nigh-night." He was too tired to put up a fuss, and he slept peacefully through the night.

On Saturday night, we had a tiny green pail that we filled with Easter grass. We gave T his four bops, said how proud we were of him, and told him to put his bops in the pail for the Easter Bunny. We also reminded T of the special present that the Easter Bunny gives to kids who give bops to the baby bunnies. T stood there and hesitated. He put one bop in his mouth, clutched a bop in each hand, and rolled the fourth bop around on the floor with his bare toes. My heart sank a little, and I felt tears well up.

But he did it! He made it through another night without a bop, and he is now completely bop-free. With the help of Easter candy and his thank-you present from the Easter Bunny, T didn't miss his bop very often on Sunday, but when he did, he'd melt into a sad sack of potatoes. Here is a picture of T checking out the rocket ship that the Easter Bunny left for him:


Today was much harder for the little guy. Mondays, to begin with, are always hard around here—the kids miss Adrian terribly when he heads back into the weekday grind. T asked many, many times for his bop today. He searched in all the usual places for a bop: under his bed, in my pocket, behind the bananas on the kitchen counter. When I reminded him that the baby bunnies now had the bops, he'd slump down to the floor. I told him I was proud of him, and I gave him lots of extra hugs and back rubs. Usually that helped matters, but there were a couple times where he clenched his fists, glared at me with angry eyes, and let go with a fierce roar. But just as quickly as he lost his cool, he composed himself and told me, "I yelled at you. I'm sorry, Mom."

And I felt tears well up.