Bargain Shopping

My daughters both said they wanted to play basketball. I ended up as the coach of their team. At this moment, I am telling this from a coach's perspective. Neither of them has much talent for the sport, mostly because they haven't had much exposure to it. (Mom mode: There are too many other things for kids to learn besides sports!) Inwe takes coaching well. Larien? She takes any tips on how to improve her athletic ability as an insult. While she could swat a ball away, she didn't understand anything else in a way that could be useful in a game.

Now, I'm mom again.

Larien complained about it to our friend T, who offered to help her with basketball in exchange for study time for the college courses T is taking. Larien accepted. We hit a bump in the road when Larien freaked out about too much going on in her life. In an unlikely change of opinion, I told her she could stop playing basketball. After some hemming and hawing, she agreed that it would be best to not play the sport. I'd had another girl added to my team, which meant that I could afford to lose a player.

Tonight, Larien asked T if she needed help studying for a test. Being the nice young woman that she is, T said she could and made a statement kind of like, "That's what we agreed upon. I would help you with basketball, and you'd help me with my classes."

"Except, you don't have to help me anymore. You should just buy me Reese's peanut butter cups for my help."

Someone in the room asked (honestly, I don't know who said this, because the place was packed with family), "Larien, do you think you're smarter than T?"

"Well--," she put her finger to her mouth as she thought of a response, "I'm probably smarter than she was when she was in first grade."

Those Commercials!

Larien felt poorly last night, but not so much that we worried. We knew T could handle it, so we left for dinner out, which is a complete necessity after I coach my girls basketball team. I get amped up that making me walk a few blocks in order to eat saves me from indigestion. 

While we walked, we remembered that we hadn't given Larien medicine. I texted T. She sent me this account.

"Advil? I can't take Advil!!!!!"

"Why not, Larien?"

"BECAUSE! I heard on a TV commercial that if you take Advil you could suffer from DEATH!"

I'll have to coach T to call it ibuprofen next time.

Read This

My kindergartener, Finwe, now has homework. Don't freak. It's simple and rarely consumes more than five or ten minutes.

The first night he had to talk to his family about the weather. Easy.

Tuesday he had to use a ruler to measure things around the house and decide if they were smaller or larger than the ruler. Easy and fun for all of us. We kept bringing him different things to measure. How about Mom's foot? Ooooo, Larien suggested, measure Ida Bad Dog's tail.

Tonight, he had to practice reading the words the, is, and no. No problem. He did, however have to read a book, but we got so distracted due to the addition of the Fabulous T to our family (a whole 'nother story!) that we didn't get to that.

To remedy this, I wrote some words on the chalk board squares on his wall. The first three were the homework words. Easy. (When I say easy, this isn't to imply that he's a wiz at reading. He proved to be the most difficult to keep on task while I taught him to read. It is mixing with other kids his age that read which really spurred him forward. Easy is relative and doesn't covey my excitement that he does read and wants to read.)

I wrote mask, because he was wearing the Zorro mask we bought him some time ago. He hasn't a clue who Zorro is. He read the word.

I wrote shirt to see if he could figure out the dipthong. He got it.

I scribbled buzz, because we as a society don't put enough emphasis on words that are fun to read. Buzz tickles the lips and is an onomatopoeia. Cool. He read it and giggled.

Then, I drew four letters with precision. F    A     R      T

"Mom! You wrote a potty word!" Whatever he said next was covered in so much laughter that it could have been anything.

My husband joined in the mirth but added, "Don't tell your teacher what your mother had you read."

He's only being half-serious.

Honesty

"Wait, Mom. I have to fart," says my son.

"Thanks for telling me," I reply.

He giggles so much that bubbles of spit form at his lips. "I had to hold my peni$."

I didn't ask why.

The family that stargazes together

gets to see Jupiter and three of its 61 moons. Larien could have looked at the stars for much longer, but the wind got to her.

Something the boy learned at the beach

We spent Thanksgiving week on Dauphin Island. My son, having a mother who didn't look at the weather report, didn't have any shorts to wear. We let him wear his underwear as outerwear. This meant that he had no shame about peeing wherever he wanted, like the post where the poodles had lifted their legs.

The one tidbit that my mother taught him--make sure that his back is to the wind. He tested the wind each time. My mother should be so proud.

Late night request

"Moooooommmmm. Mooooooommmmmm."

I heard the plaintive cry from Larien's room. She should have been asleep. She met me halfway down the stairs. I asked her what she needed. I assumed she'd beg for a drink or a snack. She already knew she could leave her light on to read.

"Where's my multiplication table?"

I'd introduced it to her a few days earlier to help her with some math problems. "It's in your notebook."

"You mean my binder," she said with her eyes rolled up in her head. My inability to call her school things by the proper term annoys her. She stomped off to get the slip of paper from her bag.

"Why do you need this right now?"

"I need to do more math, Mom, right now."

I'm so proud of my nerd.