Jack's last preschool day

Today was Jack's last day of preschool. I got bits and pieces of it, from several sources.

Emily: "We were going to get Munchkins, but Jack wanted big donuts, so we got big ones for his class and Munchkins for Kate's. ... I teared up a little after dropping him off."

Miss Liz (when I picked him up): "OK, take turns hugging Jack goodbye. Teddy, Olivia, take turns!" (They were crushing him. On the bright side, they were going to see him on Sunday anyway at Charleigh's birthday party.) And: "Another girl's last day was last week, and she brought donuts, but there weren't enough so they had to be cut in half. Jack said, 'I brought 14 donuts, so they don't have to be cut in half...everyone gets a donut!' He was very proud."

Jack: "I hugged Mr. Brendan goodbye and he hugged me so hard he picked me up off the floor! And then he patted my stomach like THIS! And then I patted his stomach TOO!"

"Mr. Brendan said I was the King of the Classroom, and so today we did whatever I wanted to do."

"I miss Teddy. But, I'll see him Sunday. And I'll see him at our playdate. And I'll invite him to MY birthday. And I'll see him at other birthday parties....." You bet, Jack.

At home, Jack opened all of the going away presents from his class. First he read all the words on his balloon. "Bye! We'll miss you! Good Luck! Keep in Touch!" He's a good reader. Teddy had made him a picture. Charleigh made him a paper crown. He unwrapped the present from the class. It was a canvas bag which everyone had signed their name to, in different colors.

Lastly, they'd given him the picture of the four of us we'd sent in a couple of years ago, Mommy and Daddy and Jack and Kate, sitting on the porch swing in Vermont. It was laminated and put on construction paper, surrounded by stickers he'd put on. And that was preschool.

Vermont Part 2

- Sunday we slept in, miraculously. It was great. Nana made blueberry pancakes and they were fantastic. Jack could eat blueberries by the basket - did yesterday, in fact - but was lukewarm on having them in his pancakes. Kids.

- While Emmy and I went to Wal-mart, the kids played with Aunt Robin and their cousins. "Splat" was the most popular pursuit, plus they made stuffed animals with a kit. Jack naturally loved Kate's stuffed animals toy. I think whatever was chosen for Kate would have fascinated him more than his own. Just how things go.

- Jack played baseball with Mikey and Baba. I got the idea later that Jack didn't do as well as he'd have liked. We made up for that by playing more later, giving Jack another chance to really hit some. Hard to tell a kid, well, he's 3 years older than you....

- Jack and his cousins went swimming while Kate napped.

- We went up to the Queechee antique mall with a train and merry go round. First we rode the train, which I sometimes think the adults enjoy more than the kids. Although Kate at least wasn't afraid of it by the end and actually opened her eyes and started looking at things. "Bear!"

- After the train, the kids rode these goofy quarter horse rides. Kate liked sitting on them more than riding on them. Jack wanted to ride all of them even though they were all basically the same. Soon the quarters ran out.

- Dinner was fun. They stuck the 11 of us in our own room, wisely. Jack and Kate colored, while Jack gave his order to every employee who walked in our general area: "Pizza and a side of french fries!" He ate well, Kate ate well. One kid had to go to the bathroom, so did the rest. Niamh told a story that cracked up Mikey, and then his laughter cracked the other kids up, and suddenly everyone was losing it. Emily and I watched in mild bafflement as our kids peacefully ate their ice cream for dessert, occasionally laughing or smiling politely at the hilarity.

- At home, everyone was still wired and we hung out in the front yard, near a tree that I remember being planted as just a sapling -- that was now a giant monolith that everyone climbed into. We took picture after picture after picture. Happy kids.

- Played baseball in the yard on Monday. Everyone got a turn to bat. No fights, no bruised feelings. Just six kids and their parents and grandparents, playing baseball.

Vermont

- We picked blueberries in the morning. Kate ate essentially every one she picked. Jack ate most, until we impressed upon him the idea of it being a competition to pick the most blueberries. Then he stopped eating them and tried to find his way onto teams of the best pickers.

- There was a petting zoo. Everyone petted rabbits and cows and sheep. We threw too many quarters into the food dispenser, getting food which the animals would take from the kids' hands unless they nervously dropped it on the ground.

- We went swimming at the Grover's Pool. Jack was fine with the inner tube around his middle; he jumped off the edge of the pool a bit, and swam all around. He gets a little more relaxed every time. One day he's going to toss that inner tube aside. At one point I just picked him up off the edge of the pool and bounced him up in the air. He yelled in laughter and nervousness, kind of a mixed joy and alarm I think.

- Kate was pretty wary of the water, but with the inner tube, she too eventually went in a little, in my arms, bounced up and down in the air. And then she really got into it when we let her on the raft, which was so big that she could spread out on it and still not touch the water. She made herself as flat as possible, fingers and toes stretched toward the corner, chin on the raft. And a big, happy smile on her face.

- We cooked out, on a little Smoky Joe grill I picked up last week. Jack helped me put it together, which I think he was proud of. Kate kind of helped husk corn. Then fell asleep sitting up on the couch next to Abbey. We woke her up for dinner, which was a hit. Mikey said more than once that he "loved" it. Kind of nice. Jack ate every bite of his hotdog, even though like Kate he was kind of zonked out.

We went to bed relatively early.

Beach Day

Went to the beach on Sunday. It was probably about the eighth Sunday we've been to the beach this year. One, the kids seem to love it more each time, and you really can't put a price on that. Two, it's about the only thing we can do that doesn't involve price, which is nice every once in a while. And three, we've kind of got it down to an art form right now.

10:00 a.m. I pack the car in a few minutes. Umbrella, beach chairs, towels, beach toys, sunscreen, change of clothes for the kids, extra swim diaper for Kate, cooler with water, juice, snacks. We throw on our suits and we're off.

10:20. We're there, and we tumble out. Choose a spot, plant the umbrella, lather up the sunscreen. Jack wants to run down to the water. Kate wants to run down to the water. We run down to the water. It's low tide, and you can walk a ways out and it's only up to your knees. So we do. We run and splash in the water for a while. Kate prefers staying close to the beach, but she's getting braver and braver each time we go. Jack sees people way out yet still only waist deep and wants to go. So we do.

11:15. Snacks. This eventually turns into lunch. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is not terribly filling. Our art form has a flaw....need to schedule grocery store trip on Saturdays again.

11:30. Back to the edge of the water, with buckets. We dig in the sand. Make a castle, Kate kicks it over. Make another one, Jack kicks it over. There are lots of obstacles to development in this neighborhood.

11:45. Jack likes to chase seagulls. His little feet pound against the sand as he runs determinedly after them. I have images of gulls, flying away from him, clocking other beach goers. Fortunately, it doesn't happen. Eventually Jack tires of it. We go back in the water and find horseshoe crabs and tiny fish. A seagull divebombs a few feet from us and gets a fish. Jack won't chase that particular one anytime soon.

12 noon. A couple of little boys, in the way only kids can, telepathically invite Jack to play with them. He does. They appear to be throwing a G.I. Joe-like toy up in the air like he's doing surfing tricks, then burying him in the sand. This is fun for them for about 15 minutes, at which point I believe one of the boys no longer wants to share his toy. Everyone goes their separate ways, but Jack remarks, "I made a friend."

12:15. I take Jack to the bathroom. As we walk the 10 minutes or so to the facilities, I debate at what point I can just direct him to a tree or leafy plant somewhere. Maybe next year.

12:30. We return to find Emily and Kate playing in the water. Emily holds Kate's hands and bobs her up and down in the water. Kate, who wouldn't even set foot in the YMCA pool the previous days, screams with laughter. Jack and I play his futile yet still enjoyable game of fighting the waves with punches and kicks. I feel like Mr. Miyagi, with Jack my karate kid using crane technique.

12:45. We're working on teaching Jack to swim, so we hold his hands and get him to kick and float on his stomach. At one point he does a credible dog paddle. Big smile. I hold Kate's hands and walk backward in the water on my knees. She kicks out her legs behind her. Bigger smile. She turns her head to Emily. "Mommy, I swimming!" Pause, smile, laugh. Then: "Mommy, I swimming!!!!!!" She's terribly proud of herself.

1:00. Jack recognizes a little girl from preschool, Harley. I wonder if he's mistaken but nope, she knows him too. They run around playing, which soon turns into filling buckets with water and splashing the monster until he falls underwater, roaring in pain. I get up with difficulty and discreetly cough water out to one side. They bury me in water again. Eventually I'll mind, but it's a pretty hot day.

1:30. Jack and Harley run off back near our towels, playing with the beach toys. I approach to keep an eye on them and Jack says, "Daddy, can you give us privacy?" I thought it would be another 10 years before I heard that from him. I step back a little and sit in the sand, watching them play.

2:00. We're waterlogged and burned, and Kate is starting to get cranky from not napping. Plus she wants to play with Jack's friend, and Jack and Harley don't want her too. I guess this will probably happen a lot in the years to come. She gets upset, we soothe her, and then the ocean and the sun make it all forgotten.

2:15. I load up the car, while the kids relax in a hot mudbath. This is also standard procedure at the beach, because I guess sitting in hot mud makes sense after cooling off, I don't know. We all rinse off one last time and pile into the car to go home.

2:30. Kate sleeps in the car. Jack asks to hear the same Who song from the Boat that Rocked soundtrack again and again and again. One day, perhaps, we'll make it to the Beach Boys song.

Singing Kate

Everything is a song to Kate these days.

"Oscar the grouch....Oscar the grouch...."

"I found my pullup....I found my pullup.....found....my....PULLUP!"

"I want some cantelope....I want some cantelope...."

"That's Jack's bear....that's Jack's bear.....THAT'S.....JACK'S.....

BEAR!"

"I stubbed my toe.....I stubbed my toe......"

sidewalking

Most days I pick the kids up from preschool, and we park in our driveway at home. And most days, they want to go for a walk, and so we do.

We couldn't do this at our old apartment, since we lived on a ridiculously signed intersection, and we didn't have any sidewalks. So this is one of the small but important benefits of our new home.

Part of the appeal is that Jack likes to step on ants and other bugs. Kate has joined him in this exercise. I naturally love all of the earth's creatures, great and small, but you know, he's a 5-year-old boy, and they're bugs. So what are you gonna do.

We walk about half a block, turn, and walk back. We usually see people walking their dogs. Yesterday we met a woman walking a Rescue dog, the friendliest black lab you'll ever meet. Jack is a little wary, but he gradually works up the nerve to pet it. He smiles goofily as he does so.

Kate hangs back, then gets brave as the dog leaves. She steps forward onto the sidewalk (off our lawn) and yells down the street. "Bye, doggie! BYE DOGGIE.....!!!!!!!!"

swimming

Took Jack swimming at the YMCA pool yesterday. He goes with his class each week; we don't take him enough.

Since he goes all the time, he felt he should tell me what to do and where to go. "There's a family changing room," he explained. "Don't go here, go here." And: "There are rooms for the boys and rooms for the girls."

We headed to the pool. "We go in that part over there. Here, come on," he said helpfully.

Jack went right over to get a floaty, which he wears around his chest. With that on, he's extremely comfortable in the water. So we swam about a bit with him in that. But, I wanted him to swim a little without it. We took it off, he was a little more nervous. But, with a barbell-like floaty, he was fine. That was pretty cool. He held it out in front of him, kicked with his feet, went from end to end.

I wanted him to jump in the water off the edge of the pool. He was wary. Don't you do this at school? I asked. He said, "Well, I did it once. And I got water in my eyes and my nose and my mouth and I cried." I said, well, it's just water. And I'll be right here. So he got up on the side of the pool and went to jump...but instead crouched down, sat and sort of slipped into the water instead.

So I brought out the big guns: McDonald's for lunch. So that worked. He got back out, got in crouch position, and asked to grab my fingers when he jumped (which is how he does it at school, evidently). He jumped, sunk in the water to his shoulders or so, bobbed up.

He was euphoric, his little face beaming with pride. "I did it!" he said. "I jumped in!" I gave him much praise. He did it again.

Then we put the floaty back on and swam around a bit. Another little boy, couple of years older probably, was playing. There was this huge floating ball, that they and I batted back and forth for a while. Eventually I just got out, and they played. I think Jack could have stayed in for an hour. Finally it was clear, after much swimming about, hitting the ball, and laughter, that he was getting cold/tired. I said it was time to go. Bye dude! the other kid said to Jack. "Bye!" Jack said.

As I dried Jack off, he made a funny, raspy voice. "This is my funny voice when I'm cold," he rasped with a big smile.

We went to McDonald's, and it was good.

Rare form

Jack was in rare form in the car on the way home today.

"I think we should give America a present," he said. "I think we should pick up litter. Because if we don't pick it up, the whole world would get sick. And then it would cough."

As we got home, I said, Hurry up and get inside, you don't want to melt.

Jack said, "I want to melt." Kate chimed in, "I want to melt too." I said, why would you want to melt? Jack said, "Because if I melted, I would turn into Iceman, and I could make everything cool."

Today

Taught Jack to play Risk and Parcheesi. The one he wanted to collect all the cannons, the other he wanted to play with the elephant and buffalo pieces. But it was fun anyway. He kept inventing new rules, so that both games ended up being nothing like they were supposed to be. And it didn't matter.

Went to a backyard barbecue. There were a bunch of other boys, many slightly older, who Jack didn't know. At first he just played with his cousins. But then, hanging out near their baseball game, he showed interest. A boy invited him. He shambled tentatively into the group. And got a chance to swing the bat at a few. He and I had just played in our backyard that morning, and I saw him hit a few good ones that evening, so it made me happy and proud. Glad for him, too.

Kate and I swung a jump rope that she'd found at the party. Also played with a couple of hula hoops. She laughed and laughed.