Off to NYC

 My brother-in-law got this sweet opportunity to work in New York City for three years. 











I'm not sure he realized that New York is really far away from Oregon. Geography really isn't his thing. If it was, I'm sure he would have realized that it was a silly idea to take this sweet face:

...and these thunder thighs

so very far away.

Before they left, they came and spent some time with us in Rogue River.  We had a lot of fun, and I got a few pictures along the way. 

We spent some time at the playground near our house.

While we were there, Q's diaper got a little on the full side.  Fortunately, he knew what to do...

Unfortunately, Mama only had baby girl diapers in the bag.  They were an okay stand in, but perhaps a little less comfortable than the norm.  There was a lot of adjusting going on.

 Our date at the playground was followed a couple of days later by a big family/friend barbeque.  The highlight for our boy was the motorcycle.  He had a perma grin when he was riding with grandpa, and some very serious tears when grandpa took time to give the other little boys a ride. 

It was a fun filled few days, and we soaked up every minute before we had to say good bye.  Of course we are all looking at our calendars now and trying to figure out when and how we'll get to New York.

Pants on the Ground

Sometimes I do stupid stuff and don't realize it.  Othertimes I do stupid stuff and don't realize it until immediately afterwards. 
So there I was, on a long run, needing desperately to go to the bathroom, but with no bathrooms within five miles of my current location.  Like any good runner, I began looking for the largest, most concealing tree I could find.  Stop there.  I should clarify that last sentance.  Like any good female runner, I began looking for the largest most concealing tree I could find. 
I found one suitable for the job and jumped off the side of the road into the underbrush to "dehydrate" myself as quickly as I possibly could.  It wasn't until I jumped out of the underbrush and back onto the road that I realized I had been squatting in a patch of those stupid burrs that basically jump off the plants if you so much as breath on them.  Suddenly, I was running down the road with both hands in my shorts trying to pull burr after chaffing burr off of the fabric of my shorts.  I'm sure I left quite the impression with the neighbors.  But lesson learned - look before you leak. 

Family Time

As soon as I got off work on Friday (for the summer, woot! woot!), Ross and I packed up the car and headed North.  It was Quentin's (half) birthday weekend, and a good excuse to spend a little extra time with the big sis and brother-in-law before they head out on their little three year adventure to N.Y.C.   It was also the the last time we were going to get to see Kristina, their exchange student, before she heads back to Germany.  Here are a few pics from the weekend.  We had a great time, and I'm so glad we went.

The two cutest boys I know getting a little morning read in. 

Pool party with the cousins.

Tell me he's not the cutest kid you've ever seen.

 Post pinata trampoline time. 

Patiently waiting for presents.  Just a side note, when he had to decide between unwrapping gifts and eating broccoli - the boy went for the broccoli every time. 

Getting some baby girl time.

Cutie Patootie

The boy's new wheels.

Kristina and our girl.  Love.

Dear Dad,

As far as dad's go you're pretty elite.
Your heart is big and so are your feet. 
It seems you did a pretty decent job.
Except maybe for naming your daughter, Bob!?

You've worked really hard and given a lot.
In my book you've got the number one spot.
I know for any of us you'd take a bullet.
You might even be able to pull off the mullet. 

You are something for sure, and I'm glad you're mine.
That's why I wrote you a Happy Father's Day rhyme. 

Love,

Bob

Happy Dance!

My elementary worksample has been approved and is on its way to being submitted to TSPC.  Yay!  That pain in the booty is officially d-o-n-e.  My job is officially (more or less) secure. 

Today was our last day of kids for the school year.  Tomorrow is our last day of work for the school year.

Saturday is our first day of summer vacation.  Saturday I will be snuggling my niece and playing ball with my nephew.

Sunday I am going to tell my dad he's rad...and stuff. 

Monday I am finally going to dust our house. 

Right now I am doing the happy dance with my shoes off. 

Kids Are Weird

Kids are weird. 
They pick their noses and try to hide it by putting their other hand in front of their face. 
Sometimes they put their pants on backwards, their shirts on inside out, their jackets on upside down, and their shoes on the wrong feet. 
They think that running to "the wall and back" is fun.
They love to be chased. 
They will do anything to be the first person in line.  Any line.  Even a line that isn't going anywhere or doing anything. 
They think that bandaids can make bruises, scrapes, slivers, scratches, rashes, and scabs better. 
They say funny things, and they sound even more funny saying them when they don't have all of their teeth.
Kids.  Are.  Weird. 

Hello?

I've been gone for a long time.  Life happened mostly.  It was crazy.  It was busy.  It was even a little bit treacherous.  Ross may have had to talk me down from the ledge a couple of times.  But I've made it back to the land of the living with little more than skinned knees and quite possibly a few extra cavities.  (I stress eat chocolate and ice cream, okay?) 

We've moved to a rental house.  I've been teaching.  I've been coaching.  I've been helping with a local fun run.  I've been finishing my elementary PE credentials.  I've been trying to cook and clean on occasion.  And I've been running - glorious running. 

Running here is like drinking wine in the Napa Valley.  It's pretty pristine.  There are people to run with.  Their are mountains to run, and trails, and logging roads.  There are animals to gawk at - turkeys, skunks, deer, fox, snakes, and owls - to name a few we've had some close encounters with.  It is: So. Much. Fun. 

Teaching is almost over with for the year, but it's been a great experiences with lots of entertaining moments.  Kids are gross, but they are also pretty darn funny.  "I'm going to gallop because I'm part reindeer."  Um, okay. 

My sis is about to leave the country for three years - they're moving to New York.  So the next few weeks will be spent fitting in as much sis and nephew and niece time as possible.  Hopefully I'll have some pictures to add in the very near future.  Yes, I do know NY isn't really another country, but it's far enough away.  I feel like they should reconsider, but that's just me. 

That's where it's at.     

Welcome to the third grade crazies

This week I started a basketball unit in my PE classes.  As you can imagine, some gradelevels are advancing much quicker than others.  In my third grade class, we played a passing game called Birdie in a Cage.  It's basically keep away but in a circle with one person in the middle.  I made a couple of  passes illegal and told the students if they performed an illegal pass they were automatically the birdie in the middle.  One cognitively smart but socially not, little girl asked, "If we are the birdie can we make chirping sounds like this: tweet, tweet *insert whistling here*?" 
I told her if she was the birdie she could make whatever sounds she wanted to.  Then we proceeded to play the game in small groups.
As I wandered around the gym checking on groups, I found her laying face down in the middle of her circle.  "What's the matter?"  I asked.  The students told me she committed an illegal pass and was now the birdie.  She didn't think it was fair that she was the birdie because she didn't realize said pass wasn't allowed.  "Well," I told her, " everyone is going to get a chance to be the birdie.  Now it's your turn.  Just do the best you can, and try to steal the ball."
She stood up and got a defensive look on her face, "I am NOT that kind of kid!  I DO NOT steal!  My parents taught me not to steal.  Stealing is wrong, and I won't do it."

"Uh.  Okay," I said, a little baffled.  "Just try to get the ball."  That word choice didn't help the situation.  It was already too late.  She was done.  So she sat out the game and upheld her family's standard of not stealing. 

On her way out the door at the end of PE, she handed me a peace offering.  "Here," she said shoving something at me.  "You can have this, I got it yesterday at the YMCA." 

Great.  It was a piece of trash, a shiny foil like piece of trash. 

"Wow, thanks."

I drew a sigh of relief when she was out the door and on to her next mission under somebody else's supervision. 

Kid Zone

I have some pics and stories from Christmas and Quentin time, but I'll have to backtrack later and share those another time.  I have had this post on my mind for the last couple of days and wanted to write it down before I forgot all about it. 

My Q was in town this week...so were his parents.  My sis thought it would be a great idea to take the Q to the Kid Zone for the afternoon to give him a chance to wear me out in the miles of tunnels, slides, and ball pits they have for children much shorter than 6ft.  He is too young to go through the main thoroughfare of tunnels by himself so an adult had to accompany him.  My sister pulled the "I'm 7 months pregnant card," which seems like a cheap excuse, but because it meant some Quentin time, I let myself be volunteered to go with him.  The thing is, I hate germy spaces - like kid playgrounds, and I hate tight enclosed spaces - like stuffy itty bitty tunnels with no visible end.  But Q was so stinking cute and in ball heaven once we entered the first ball pit, that I couldn't hold him back and keep him from exploring the rest of the structure. 

With the help of one of my students, who was there celebrating his birthday, we found ball pit #2.  It had a trampoline type base, so I got some smiles out of Quentin by bouncing him up and down in the balls.  Shortly after we started playing, a fat seven-year-old boy joined us.  Rolly Polly laid in the balls as well and I continued to bounce both him and Q.  Then Rolly said, "I'm hurt, carry me out."  And I said, "heck no."  Actually, that's what I was thinking.  Luckily, his dad intervened.  "You're not hurt, you can get out." 

"No, my ankle is hurt.  Carry me." 

"I don't think so," I said. 

At about that time, Q was ready to move on.  We headed into the tunnel, and after I shook Rolly Polly's hand off my ankle, we continued to make our way up the tunnel.  Evidently, Rolly found he could walk because he headed into the tunnel directly behind me.  He kept trying to squeeze by and Shae, who was watching the whole thing, told him to give us space, but he kept head bumping me in the butt.  "Back up, " I said, and blocked the slide outlet so Quentin could slide down without getting bowled over by the turd who was once again trying to squeeze by. 

We ditched that space and found a new section of tunnel, where I managed to bruise my knees and have a grand ol' time chasing Q through the plastic tubing and down various, faster than I anticipated slides.  Once the main play structure became too crowded with 'homeschoolers,' we went to the "gettin' bigger" structure that was for kids six and under.  Although, there was one seven-year-old girl in there, who told us a good half a dozen times that she was in fact "seven and too old to be in this area, but they let me anyway."  Awesome. 

So in the Gettin' Bigger section we had the Q - who can be a little ornery with other kids.  He likes to pinch.  We also had a biter.  And then the rolly polly kid showed up with his dad.  We let Quentin climb up the play structure by himself because it was a really tight squeeze for me, but then a little boy who Q had tried to pinch a couple of times went up, and neither came down.  Then the biter went up.  All three were climbing around in the tubing and not coming down the slide.  I started to get a little worried because I know Q might hit if the other kids got too close and then I might get bit, and who knows what would ensue.  I decided that I'd better go up and help him down, but as I approached the slide, Rolly Polly came running up in a fire fighter's hat and a sequined cape and slipped in front of me.  "It's on fire, and I've got to get those kids," he said when I asked him to come down and let me get my nephew.  Up he went, so up I went.  I grabbed Q and guided him away from the secquined fire fighter and to the slide.  Unfortunately, Rolly decided to follow us.  I let Q go first, and knowing it would take him some time to get off of the slide, I waited at the top a few extra seconds.  Then I went.  As I came around the corner of the slide, Q was still sitting on the edge.  I was coming fast, so I put my arms behind me along the sides of the tunnel to slow myself down.  It reefed on my shoulders, but didn't hurt too bad until little fat man came barreling down behind me and plowed into my back with a thud.  I scooped up the Q, and we headed out of the play area.  I don't think the fat kid's dad even said a word.  We had fun while it lasted, but at that point we were definitely done.    

I don't think we'll be back again soon.