Tales from the back of a very large van. Part 1.

And… we’re back. Swimming in the contents spewed from the van, but home. Looking forward to a day at home to clean up said van spewage.

We were somewhere in Iowa at a rest area about 1/3 of the way home when we nearly lost Brady. The kids opened the van door before I got around to that side, and we all got out, went inside to use the bathroom, and headed back out. I hollered for the dog to take her to do her own business, and she didn’t come. Strange. I was about to give up and assume she was buried in luggage, knowing she’d been in there moments earlier, when a man nearby heard me calling her and asked if Brady was a dog.

Uh, yes. She’s small. Black. Highly annoying at moments like these. The man said a lady had found her, thought she was abandoned, and he was pretty sure the lady left with the dog.

Annoyed, meet panicked. So the dog drives me nuts. She’s naughtier than most of my children, but she’s pretty sweet too. Talk about ruining a vacation.

Turns out, the lady was about to pull out. She sheepishly handed over my now-sheepish dog, who cowered in the corner nowhere near the van doors the rest of the trip. It would seem she might have realized her error.

Until we drove in the yard and had to promptly holler at her for heading to the road.

Back to annoying. Dumb dog.

Saturday Night

Preparations for Sunday are underway...

Grandpa and Grandma's

This playing at Grandma and Grandpa's house is lots of work.

The Case of the Missing Teeth

Ruby gave me a new bedtime stalling tactic I hadn't heard before. In nine years of parenting and now six kids, I've heard a few. Pretty sure Ruby's topped them all.

"Pajamas and teeth, Ruby."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I can't find my teeth."
And then... she looked at me most sheepishly, realized the error of her dreamed-up excuse, and changed her story.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I can find them." And off she went.
I'm sure glad she found them. That was close.

Mispronunciation hesitation.

Kindergarten is a fun grade to teach. The learning is so new, there's so much to learn, and five year olds are brutally honest.

Today's reading had Sterling in a befuddled mess. Dr-i-ve. Dr-i-ve. Over and over he sounded out 'drive', saying it but still unsure what the word was. Finally I jumped in, and told him he'd said the word.

"Drive?!" he said incredulously.
"Yes. Like drive a car. Drive."
"But there isn't a J' in it!"
"No. Drive doesn't have a 'J' in it.
"But it's jer-ive."
Realizing I had never realized he doesn't pronounce it right, we came to the bottom of his confusion. "It's not jer-ive. It's DR-ive."
Poor boy. He looked like I'd rocked his world. Recovering quickly, he turned to Ruby in the next room and hollered, "Hey Ruby! Did you know it's DRIVE with a 'D' and there isn't a J in DR-ive?!"

She nodded and smiled. Alrighty then. Perfect sense to a four year old, for sure.

Great homeschooling moments we have, I tell you. Great. And for the record, there's no 'J' in drive. We've clarified that.

Overachiever.

In doing (kindergarten) math this morning with Sterling, I asked him to tell me a "some, some more" story. He looked at me with confusion.

"I'll tell you one, and then you can tell me one. Three kids were in line for the slide. One slid down. Now there are two kids waiting. Your turn."

Sterling replied, "100 kids are at school. Two went out for lunch."

I cringed at his choice in numbers. He'll never be able to finish this. "How many are left at school?"

He didn't even miss a beat. "98."

Overachiever.

Poor boy.

Dear Pierce,

Today, you are one. With a typical one-year-old vocabulary, you can’t tell me what kind of birthday dessert you’d like. You did come out with something that sounds remarkably like “I love you” – said at the appropriate time, so I’m calling it real. Impressive, Baby Boy.

But I digress. Dessert.

As the third birthday in less than a month, we’re caked out. We’re not cake people. Most of both of your September sister’s cakes are now up in the compost heap. So, dear boy, since you were born in the middle of apple picking season, you’re getting apple pie.

It’ll be delicious, I promise.

Love,

Momma