I’ll take a slice, but hold the Tin, please.
my crisper drawer has not been this clean since I don’t remember when.
My first two years of teaching, I worked with a population that was overwhelmingly high-needs. The entire district was Title I, meaning that greater than 95% (I don’t know the exact percentage, but it was in the high nineties) qualified for free and reduced lunch. They had very limited resources. Along with this, many of the students were struggling in other ways and some had been identified as being at very high-risk.
There was an organization that came to my school that met with those kids and taught them life skills, build up self-confidence, and simply gave them notice. This was all done through therapy dogs. This powerful experience for the kids was on the fringes of my peripheral vision, as I was a first/second year teacher trying not to drown in it all.
But it stuck with me.
This morning, while lying in bed with my first cup of coffee, I found myself researching this organization and seriously wondering if our Flat Coat Retriever rescue dog, Sasha and I would be up for the challenge. As I was deep on thought on the topic, Cody and Carter woke up and came lumbering into the bedroom. They flopped onto the bed, which was already filled with two black furry pups, and listened as I told them my thoughts.
Carter appeared a bit protective and worried for Sasha. He thought it might be alright if the children did not hurt her. He wanted to know if he could come along. I think he was wrestling with the implications of sharing our dog with others. What if she loves us less? – I could see the question in his head.
I assured him that Sasha would always be our dog, we would be her pack. This is when Cody piped up.
cody: We will always be in her heart, and in her mind.
carter: Adding to this, in what I feel was quite an eloquent way, Carter states – We will always be in her tail, too.
Sasha, who is a total tail-wagger, was listening, enjoying the pets, and wagging her tail.
Yes, we will always be in her tail, too.
I do wonder how many emails she sent from my account before I locked her out.
Yesterday Cody had his friend Debbie over to hang out (at 12 years of age, I assume the term “play date” is no longer applicable. I am fine with this, not ever really liking that term anyway). They had plans for Minecraft followed by some swimming, followed by more Minecraft.
Before Debbie came over, I did the usual ack-people-are-coming-over panic cleaning. Clutter was removed from counters, the floor in the boys’ room was unearthed, and the vacuum was wildly driven around the house.
As I walked down the hall to put something away, I met Carter who was going the other direction. We passed each other near the entrance to their bathroom, which also moonlights as the guest bathroom.
me: Carter, how is the toilet paper situation in your bathroom?
carter: Without breaking stride and sounding taken aback by my question – I don’t know. I don’t use it.
me: You don’t use it?!?
carter: Well, barely ever, he muttered as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view.
Brunch is a great way to start any Sunday.
A place where you can take your dog for brunch – even better!
Cody: How do you make it spawn a new page?
I showed Cody how to open up a new blank document in Word and left him to continue his school work.
His question had me laughing on the inside but made me wonder if he is, perhaps, playing too much Minecraft.
The command came from Carter who was fast asleep in his tent. (He has been indoor camping in the bedroom he shares with his brother for several weeks now in a pop-up tent.)
The loud command woke me up. It was 3:00 a.m. Ugh.
I tossed and turned and had finally gotten to that heavy, almost sleep state, when his shout rang through the air.
Now I am up for good but at least I am proud of Carter for having good manners even in his dreams.
Tonight during our dinner conversation, riveting as they always are, the topic of the t.v. show Sixty Minutes came up. It is a news show that Husband and I both have fond childhood memories of. (Apparently it flew by in Husband’s Twitter feed at some point in the day and those nostalgic feelings caused him to add a reminder to our shared calendar so we can start watching it again.)
Carter listened as we talked. Then he pointed out that there were sixty minutes in an hour and that they could have named the show One Hour instead.
He quickly followed his observation with another one, its wording accidently, yet humorously altered.
“Sixty Minutes… One Hour… Well, One Hour just doesn’t have the same ringtone to it as Sixty Minutes does!”
How right you are, Carter, it sure doesn’t.
As a side note, Husband pointed out that based upon my handiwork with the image above, no one will confuse me with a graphic design artist. Ha!
Eighty degrees on a Sunday morning. Husband is gone on his yearly trip to the Reno air races. The boys and I head off to the Desert Botanical Gardens, (admittedly, there was some grumbling for they wanted the Science Center which I have tired of due to the frequency of our visits).
The gardens were in full bloom and the boys commented on how many butterflies there were.
This roadrunner thought he was part of the staff. The boys thought it was most hilarious. The bird was unable to produce a badge to show proof of employment and so he promptly scampered into the bushes.
We spied lots of bird nests, some just a jumble of twigs tucked into the arms of cactus.
There were several strategically placed groupings of chairs for lounging in the coveted pools of shade. We tried out many of them, but much like the butterflies flitting from flower to flower, the boys did not stay in them for long.
Cody looks like a true Arizona boy in this picture. Love…
In other news, Carter lost his first baby molar. This is only his fifth tooth offering to the tooth fairy in his 9 years.
I had previously overhead a nighttime conversation the boys had, where Carter declared to Cody that he felt that Santa could indeed be the parents.
He did not, however think the same thing of the tooth fairy.
“Why would our parents give us all that money just for teeth!?” he asked Cody.
And so last night, Carter asked me if there were boy tooth fairies. Before I could take a breath to answer him, he answered his own question. “Well, of course there has to be boy tooth fairies. Otherwise, how would there continue to be more fairies?”
So he does know a little something about the birds and the bees (and fairies too).
His tooth was tucked under his pillows, carefully sealed in a small Tupperware container. The next morning, the tooth had been replaced with a one dollar coin. Amazing!