At the very least I should post about watching the Ironman racers whiz past our house yesterday...
(Another difference between me and Greg: I look at the Ironmen and Ironwomen, think of the 2.4 mile swim they did that morning, the 112 mile bike ride they're in the middle of, and the stinking full 26.2 mile marathon they have yet to run, and I want to puke at the mere thought. Whereas Greg looks at them with envy.)
or I could post about the last minute fun we squeezed in just before school started...
like a trip to the Children's Museum...
or a trip to the zoo (with Dad)...
But I have one last summer post in me.
I feel that I should point out that I seriously considered never posting a single thing about the summer. It would have been simpler. I do enjoy blogging--looking at pictures of what we did, writing about it. But it, obviously, would have been much easier and less time consuming to pretend the summer never happened. Then a few weeks ago David found a blurb book I made of some posts from my original blog. He was obsessed with it! He loved it! He literally CRIED as I read to him stories of when he was little and Mary was a baby. He thanked me again and again for taking pictures and writing down what we did, so he could "remember the good old days." He told me, tears in his eyes, "I miss those days. Thank you for helping me remember them." I was taken aback by his reaction. (He cried with happiness!) After that, how could I leave an entire summer out of our family's record? It wasn't the best summer ever, but who knows, maybe we'll look back with tears in our eyes and say, "I miss those days." Even if we don't say that, it's still worth remembering. Which is why my blog has been crammed the past few weeks with posts about summer. And why I have one more.
I started off my summer summary posts with a list of what was not to be. So I think I'd like to finish with a list of what was.
This was, believe it or not, a summer of schoolwork. Despite how crummy I felt this summer, I was blessed with a couple of hours in the morning when I felt okay-ish. How I would have loved to have spent the time blogging, or answering emails, or shopping, or wiping off the kitchen counter, or going on outings. But I decided, early on, to dedicate that bit of time completely to David and Mary and their schoolwork. I was seriously stressed that David wasn't where he could/should be at the end of first grade, and Mary loves nothing more than to sit and do workbooks. So I knew this had to be my priority. We did a so-so summer bridge workbook (fyi, the P-K one stinks, we had to buy the K-1 book for Mary), Handwriting Without Tears cursive (recommended!), reading (Mary did this program, while David read "good fit" books from the library), and math facts with David and number recognition through 100 with Mary. There was complaining from both David (too much work!) and Mary (not enough work!), but we managed some measure of consistency for a couple of months. (I do not pretend at all that freshening up on some skills over the summer is akin to homeschooling. But when I read this post from Deanna, I have to say that her advice really rang true for me--though everything was on a much smaller scale for me, of course.) What's funny/sad is that by August, when I was feeling better, I pooped out on schoolwork. Once I felt well enough to take on other responsibilities--like wiping the kitchen counter and answering emails--those responsibilities soon crowded out schoolwork, and I finally gave up completely. Kind of sad. But not too sad. Summer vacation is summer vacation, after all. (And David's biggest improvement in reading happened in his brain sometime between the time we stopped reading at home this summer and the time he started second grade. Weird. I guess we really do need breaks and a chance for our unconscious brain to work on stuff.)
This was a summer of Hannah Montana. Last spring David was really interested in watching iCarly. We watched a few episodes, and I decided I hated it. The characters are snarky and mean to each other, I didn't like the premise (as if my kids need yet another reason to be fascinated with the Internet), and there are no parents. I know there is much, much worse content out there--but how about something just a tiny bit more uplifting for my young kids? As a consolation for Mom saying no to iCarly, we tried a few episodes of Hannah Montana. It was a hit, and I like it enough to let my kids watch it regularly. The first season in particular is sweet and cute. Family is important in the world of the show, and Billy Ray Cyrus is great as Miley's on-screen dad. (I can't comment on his role as her real-life dad.) The whole premise--you're watching Miley Cyrus pretend to be Miley Stewart pretending to be the famous popstar Hannah Montana who does become a famous popstar because of the Disney machine but really the famous popstar Hannah Montana is the famous Miley Cyrus who is famous because of Hannah Montana--is kind of messy in a fun post-modern boundary blurring way. After the first season, the jokes get a little snarkier, the female characters wear hooker amounts of make-up, and there is more and more of an emphasis on good looks, boyfriends, and materialism. But it's still cute and has heart. Besides, Mary is obsessed with it now. OBSESSED! She dances around the house singing Hannah Montana songs, constantly quotes lines from the show, and does spot-on impressions of the characters Rico and Roxy. Her obsession drives us a little nuts. No one more so than David--but David still loves the show, even though he won't openly admit it. I still insist on watching "new" episodes with them, mostly because the content has gets slightly more mature (though there are still plenty of booger jokes). They can watch episodes we've already seen whenever they want--this is how Mary spent her summer. So maybe insisting on watching "new" ones with them is a little helicopter-ish of me. But it's not like I had a whole lot else to do this summer. Besides, I relish the opportunity to brainwash my children early: "Gee. Miley went on a date without telling her dad. That was very very bad. You will never ever ever go on a date without telling your mom or dad about it, will you? Of course you won't." (In fact, they quite enjoy pointing out when Miley doesn't "choose the right"--their Primary teachers would be proud.) I never ever imagined that Hannah Montana would be such an important part of our lives. You just never know what life (and trying to survive parenthood) will bring, I suppose.
This was a summer of the Olympics. The Olympics were my salvation this summer! People, the most exciting thing in my life during July was watching Miley Stewart start high school. I needed the Olympics. Between the night class Greg had this summer and the nights he was gone for Boy Scouts, I was on my own in the evenings a little (a lot!) more than I would have liked, especially with as little energy as I had. But every evening the kids and I would head downstairs to watch the prime time coverage of the Olympics. The three of us would watch and discuss and predict. Eventually the kids would pass out dead asleep on the couch. Greg would come home late and carry them each to their beds. (Best bedtime routine ever!!! By the time the Olympics were over I couldn't even remember how to put my kids to bed anymore.) The Olympics were so fun because David and Mary were old enough to get into them. Mary, not surprisingly, decided that she is going to be an Olympic gymnast and that I will be so proud to see her on T.V. (I didn't break the news that she's already too old for those dreams to have a chance of coming true.) David, meanwhile, is going to be an archer, a shooter, and a cyclist. (Poor David. His favorite events weren't covered much on prime time. But he did love all the beach volleyball!) My kids are so young. They were devastated to learn how long it will be until there is another Olympics. (David informed me this summer that at age 10 your life is half over.) There is something so magical about the Olympics and your own Olympic dreams when you're a child and an entire universe of possibilities is open to you. I loved sharing that magic with my kids.
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| Mary catching up on some gymnastics the day after. (Sometimes it was hard staying awake long enough to see it all.) |
This a summer of Harry Potter. Early in the summer I read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone to David at bedtime. I was selfish about it, insisting that I got to read it to him, not Greg. I loved sharing the book with David. (Though it was always weird to me that he had already experienced the whole story in Lego via the Wii. Times sure are different.) When we finished the book, David, his dad, and I watched the movie together. I'm not a big fan of the first two movies, but it was so fun to share it with David. Then we read Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and watched that movie. Again, it so great to have a kid old enough to share stuff like this with! (Watching Star Wars with your kid for the first time is the best!!) I loved watching him build Hogwarts out of his Legos, fantasize about Quidditch, and reconnect with a Harry Potter-obsessed friend. We're taking a break from good old Harry for a little while. I wouldn't mind him being a little older before we tackle the third book. Besides, right now we're having plenty of fun with Bunnicula and friends and Encyclopedia Brown.
This was a summer of a brother-sister friendship. David and Mary do not "click." For years I kept waiting for them to start playing together. But they rarely did--and never in the way I had seen other young siblings interact together. It eventually became evident that they don't have the right personalities to naturally get along. Their opposite but not complimentary personalities don't lend themselves to the kind of dynamics that leads to easy play. They simply do not play together. (Early in the summer, a friend of mine was observing my kids at the pool and noted, "Wow. Your kids totally do not play together!" So true.) I know they are still young, and I hadn't given up complete hope. But I also stopped holding my breath, waiting for them to become the best of friends. But this summer it happened. They were forced to rely on each other for companionship. David and Mary spent literally hours and hours every day in the basement watching T.V., left to fend for themselves. Since there are really only so many hours a kid can stand to watch T.V., eventually they began to look to each other for entertainment. They would get out board games, build elaborate train tracks, play hide and seek. Sure, they bicker like crazy. (Oh the bickering!!!) But at least they are learning to see one another as a potential companion and even a friend. Three months ago you could take them to the park and they would both whine about being bored and want to go home. Now if you take them to the park, they will look to each other and immediately play hide and seek. Then they'll push each other on the swings or even begin an elaborate game of pretend airport or Hogwarts. Of all of the good things this summer (and, despite my complaining, there were plenty), this was the best. David and Mary as play mates.
