Sappy, Silly, School

This was a banner week around here, as Ben and Roman started kindergarten and preschool, respectively.

And the headline on that banner?! "MOM CRIES ONLY ONCE!"

Granted, it was a full-blown, shoulder-shaking sob, but I put on my shades, got it all out, then moved on.

And the boys are moving on too, with only slight hesitation. Ben's thrilled with the four-recess schedule, but is struggling with the everyday nature of it all ("We have to go back again?!"). Also, he asks me to announce his arrival every morning ("Uh, Mrs. Wiebe, Ben's here..."), but I'm sure each day will get easier.

Roman, on the other hand, is already running the preschool. He's fearless, if slightly smitten with the lovely Mrs. Wilson.

My biggest struggle (and I have several) is getting used to the schedule, which is alternately crazy-busy and thumb-twiddling-slow. One moment I'm doing 100 things (poorly), then I'm looking around for an activity and settling on scrubbing my kitchen ceiling. Poorly.

But I'm sure things will even out. We'll iron out our wrinkles (bedtimes, belt-buckling, homework, shoe tie-ing) and have another sappy, silly week.

Here are a few pictures:

The boys march off to school together...

Roman calls Anthony to tell him about his preschool day...

 

Roman high-fives Mrs. Wilson (she gives them the option: handshake, hug or high-five)...

Ben, his giant box of school supplies, and Mrs. Wiebe...

And, finally, kindergarten pick up in the wagon...

Off to do it all...again! 

Summer Lovin'...

...happened so fa-ast. How can summer be over in 12 hours?!

Tomorrow at 8 sharp, we turn Ben over to the Catholics for Kindergarten (Roman and Pre-school are Tuesday), but to close out summer and keep me from crying, we packed in a few of our favorite summer things:

Homemade popsicles to cool the boys and torture Reno the dog:

Our weekly Thiessen pool date:

 Our almost-daily Genesis pool time:

Two photo notes: 

1. No, we're not in the ghetto as the background suggests. Genesis is just awaiting a new fence after a summer storm knocked down the old one. Thanks for the beautiful background to my summer, Genesis!

2. Yes, there is more than one chair at the pool, but this is how the boys like to hang out between swimming stints. Mmmm...relaxing!

Our 12 hours are already a-fleeting (along with my emotional stability), so I'll end it on a light note; big changes coming this week for my not-so-little boys as they start their educational adventure.

And without them to bother 24/7, I'll fill my schedule with our other boy of summer. Reno, get your running shoes; you'll be a busy dog.

Cars, Boys and Tunes

How lucky I'll be if these sweet boys grow up to be like Anthony.

And, by that, I mean they'll willingly drive a decades-old Pontiac Grand Am and be reasonably skilled at its maintenance:

Yup, it's been a big month for car troubles around here; Anthony had a crack (or something) in his manifold (or something). Twice. Then my Jeep's a/c went out. Thrice.

But we had them fixed because (1) we're determined to enjoy a no-car-payment existence for a little while longer and (2) we've found an incredibly honest mechanic at National.

Also, (3) Anthony has a "til death do us part" vow with that Pontiac. He's driven it for something like 12 years, despite its lack of seat cushion, a side mirror or any sex appeal whatsoever. And while I try to match his minimalist ways, I can't help but hope each morning: Will today be the day someone steals that thing from outside of my house? Please?

But until then, our "we're not poor, but we drive like we are" attitudes (an actual quote from Anthony) will keep us from the new car lot. That is, unless Roman has his way; he stated from my backseat, "Mom, you need to buy a new car so you have better songs."

Sister Bonus

Bonus day with Angey! And a double bonus: no 5:30 a.m. trip to the airport after a night of too many margaritas!

In a Guynn Sister first, the airlines were on our side, allowing Ange to delay her flight by a day. It'll still feel too short, but it's been a great week of the Scognamillo usual...all made more entertaining with a sister nearby.

Yup, Ange just merges right into our little life - gym, store, pool, store, gym, nap - interrupted by the boys' repeated request: "one at a time!" as Ange and I talk over each other.

We spent a lot of time at the pool, where the boys loved showing off their diving board acrobatics...

...then I showed off my acrobatics and dragged Ange to a few classes. She also let me train her, giving the kind of feedback that only a sister can give ("stop fussing with your shirt"). Also, she helped me through a MAJOR closet clean out...again, using phrases that only a sister can utter without offense, but that I won't repeat here.

Finally, we Mexican Fiesta'd last night with a few of the girls who've come to know and love Ange during her Wichita visits:

And because Angey has driven me to countless far-away airports at the absolute worst hours (only once putting a steak knife in my carry-on), I shall gladly rise for her 6 a.m. flight tomorrow, but less-than-gladly let her fly away from us.

Hold on Tight

Roman's always had a little of the Navin Johnson* tendency to grab and hold tight the most random things. As a baby and toddler he was forever death-gripping something - Hot Wheels, Chapstick, snacks - carrying them all day and through the night.

 

*Steve Martin as Navin Johnson in The Jerk. 

 Please tell me you know the reference or I'll feel ancient.

Some items fared better than others; metal Hot Wheels were no problem. But I don't miss the days of peeling open his sweaty little hand to discover that an hours-old fruit snack had become a food-colored, palm-sized glue ball.

He's better about it now; after all, he needs his hands for big-boy things like riding a trike, swimming and hassling the dog. But that made this morning's Navin grab-and-go behavior especially entertaining:

In his left hand is a bottle of sunscreen, a magnetic bottle opener and a picture of Anthony, Aunt Anna and Cousin Gina (Roman's sweetly inappropriate crush du jour). And in his right, a pretzel stick and a middle finger for his mother.

All useful, sure...but unusual choices when we're headed to the gym.

Anyway, look out, because the getting-rid-of-crap voice of reason is on its way. Angey arrives tomorrow! And, as tradition dictates (two generations running), we'll spend the better, funnier part of an afternoon going through my closets to answer "have you worn this in the past year?!" and "did this belong to Phoebe on Friends?!"

I should probably notify the local DAV that a hefty, dated clothing donation is on its way.

So, to Angey: I can't wait to see you. To the DAV guy: please don't also give me the middle finger. To Wichitans who need clothing and accessories from the early 2000s: you're welcome.

New Heights

Log this under "Things I should have started earlier," along with "using quality eye cream":

Tracking the boys' growth on the wall!

I'm surprised I didn't think of it earlier, since my grandparents logged mine and Angey's in their garage. For a while there I was keeping up, but Ange met and exceeded me once I flatlined in 1988. So long, hoop dreams!

Anyway, the boys have a current fascination with the tape measure, so we took them to the basement and put it to use.

The results? Two children who look like they're being punished (see below). And, more importantly, two healthy, growing boys: Ben, 43.25", Roman 38.5".