Random Vacation Photo Dump

The face that greeted me each morning, mere inches from my own, since Violet got the "special treat" of sleeping in my bed each night.

Yes, we are mere blocks from the beach, but Noodle here preferred to stay inside and watch the ocean through the eyes of Nemo. I can now quote this entire movie with my eyes closed.

Chillin' by the pool.

Goggle test run.

The annual vacation putt-putt experience. Violet's version involved placing the ball an inch from the hole, watching it roll itself in, then applauding herself. Nothing wrong with this girl's self esteem.

Possibly my favorite moment of the trip. My solution to a whiny trio of kids was to give them each a beach towel, plop them down and command them to take turns telling each other stories. To my complete astonishment, it worked. Bring it, Super Nanny!

Violet with Super Sitter. Love.

To the Beach and Back

Friends! It's been so long. Sorry for the absence, but Violet and I have been bumming it at the beach. If you follow me on FB, or Twitter, or Instagram, you probably know this by now. We've just returned, full of sun and sand (and a bit of an attitude that I'm hoping will straighten itself out).

Each year my neighbors have a tradition of packing up the kids, throwing them in the car on the first week after school lets out, and heading to Florida. Last year was my first time tagging along, and it was so much fun that I decided to try it again. Alas, this time the dads had to stay behind to win the bread, but us three moms bravely wrestled our five kids for the trip. And we've been patting ourselves on the back because this year, we wised up and brought along our secret weapon - a babysitter. Yep, we tricked begged asked our favorite neighborhood babysitter S. to tag along and she nervously happily agreed to the adventure.

The beach crew and our saintly sitter. (Don't let those angelic faces fool you.)

Our party of five. Showing their true colors. (Their true colors are apparently varying shades of pasty white.) Oh Violet, falling prey to peer pressure already.

Ready for the beach!

Once again we stayed at the lovely resort RV park (ignoring your snarky looks of superiority and/or your gasps of mild repulsion). It's cheap and it works for us. It's actually rather quite nice in that quaint, rustic campground kind of way. We were spread out between three units, but we all congregated for meals and downtime. Our Super Sitter even corralled all the kiddos one night so us ladies could have a night on the town! A night that consisted of a beer and nachos, but a night out nonetheless! Which was pretty much the only downtime we had, as a trip with five kids to the beach goes something like this:

Wake up (in Violet's case, at 7 a.m.)
Hope that Kim walks over with a cup of coffee (we left the coffee pot in her unit and were at her mercy).
Feed everyone breakfast, clean up.
Immediately give the kids a snack.
Dress and sunscreen everyone.
Haul massive amounts of gear to the beach, haul selves to the beach, set up.
Give the kids a snack.
Watch with grateful tears in eyes as Super Sitter takes over beach duties.
Feed everyone lunch, reapply sunscreen, give the kids a snack.
Eventually, haul everything home, possibly stopping at the pool on the way.
Unsuccessfully attempt to get Violet to nap.
Try to keep kids from snacking as one of us tackles dinner (we each had a night).
Feed everyone, clean up.
Give the kids another flippin' snack.
Bath, pajamas, attempt bedtime.
Crawl into the shower after Violet finally falls asleep 2-3 hours past her usual bedtime.
Insert a hearty sprinkling of whining, fighting, laughter and Finding Nemo throughout the day.
Repeat for four days.

Could. Not. Be. Cuter.

The big blue sea. Just you and me.

Snack break no. 647.

Violet's innocent attempt to feed a bird a cheeto turned into a creepy seagull stalking scenario.

 

Did I Do That?

Happy Friday!

Pajama Ride

One of my favorite treats as a small child was taking a pajama ride. This is when you get all ready for bed, squeaky clean from a bath, hair still damp, cozy in a clean pair of pj's, and you jump in the car for a nighttime adventure.

There was something so deliciously daring about being out of the house in pajamas. (This feeling wore off in college, when for some reason, I found myself out in pajamas a little more than necessary - hello Walmart or Waffle House!) Maybe it's because we knew we had dodged the bedtime bullet for a time, maybe it was the promise of adventure (even the grocery store takes on a allure when you're out after bedtime in your pajamas). Maybe it was the realization that the safe, snuggly bedtime feeling was portable, turning, for a moment, our family car into a mysterious magic carpet ride of dusky streets and twinkling streetlamps and togetherness.

Sitting in the backseat with my little brother, there would be no whining or shoving or complaints of "he's on my side of the car". We'd have our noses pressed to the dark windows, watching the golden snake of headlights stretch behind us, feeling mightily superior to all the other kids who had to put their heads down on pillows and obediently shut their eyes while we embarked on our top-secret stealth mission to...

We christened Violet into this family tradition over the weekend, when we loaded her into the car, clean and damp and cozy, for a quick trip in search of a "special treat". Our wanderings lead us to Dairy Queen, home to many a treat, where we shared a Blizzard (somehow she ended up with the lion's share - next time she'll get her own!) before heading on our contented, drowsy way home.

Pajama Ride!

Rainbow on our way.

All Packed Up

Yesterday was officially the last day of school. For teachers, at least. We had a tantilizing taste of the break over Memorial Day weekend, but then had to head back to the "office" for two more days. And what days they were!

Most of you probably don't know this, and perhaps it's not the way every school does things, but in our neck of the woods, we have to pack up our entire rooms. Every year. (This way they have access to the floors and walls to paint and wax and spruce the place up.)

Empty chairs and empty tables...

This year differed slightly, however, in that almost every teacher in the entire building will be in a new room next year. Which meant that not only did we have to box up our things, we then had to haul them to the other side of the building to our new classrooms. Once there, everything gets stacked ceiling-high in the hallways. It was craziness! But the first grade team was fantastic, as usual. We all pitched in and helped each other, taking 40 gazillion trips to and fro, to and fro, until we were all collectively done. Have I mentioned how much I love my grade level?

Boxes and piles and stacks, oh my!

The love continued the next day when we celebrated fellow first-grade teacher and bride-to-be Katie at her shower, hosted by us, her team. It was a great way to end the school year, surrounded by all the fabulous people I've worked with.

My team!

Now my next packing job - getting us ready for the beach!

At the Door

See this face? This is the face of someone off to their last day of the first year of teaching first grade. (Notice the bags under my eyes?) Yep, I survived. The kids are safely off to the loving (and I imagine, quickly exasperated) arms of their parents. I have two days of post-planning/moving classrooms and then my summer will officially start. I can't wait!

In the meantime, listen to this interesting story. The other day a little old man rang our doorbell. This is odd because first off, no one ever rings our doorbell. Our visitors usually pound on the back door (or more than likely, just let themselves in). Secondly, when the doorbell does ring, it's never a little old man standing there.

This little old man also happened to be clutching an extremely gaudy gold picture frame with an ugly faded purple matting. "I have something for you," he announced, thrusting the frame into Matt's arms. As it turns out, our home's first owner was standing on the front steps. He told us that all the original owners in the neighborhood received a special gift upon moving in - an aerial shot of their home. He and his wife discovered the old picture as they were cleaning out their current home in preparation to move and he took the time to drive it over and bequeath it to us.

Not something that happens every day, I dare say.

So I promptly discarded the ugly frame and faded matting, classed it up a bit, and look!

Our house, from the sky!

Closing Time

It's almost closing time.

Tomorrow is the end-of-the-year party. Parents will be coming, gifts will be given.

The walls are bare. There are boxes stacked in corners. Desks are empty. There are only the last minute chores - watching the clock on Friday, packing up the computer, returning the keys.

It's hard to remember the beginning of this journey. The overwhelming feeling of walking into the classroom every morning. The uncertainty. The blind faith of putting one foot in front of the other.

I survived parent-teacher conferences, field trips, grading deadlines, a trip to the principal's office. I survived school lunches and celebrated birthdays and was bailed out (and did some bailing myself) too many times to count.

And then we came to the end.