Cheap Fixes and Crafty Solutions...

I'm getting an early start this morning!

But before I begin wasting your time with what has become my virtual dumping ground for all things that should remain private to those who posses common sense, I just want to stop and say thank you for all of your very kind comments about my blog.  I am in no way a writer! That was established in the 8th grade when I spent 5th period writing (using the term loosely here) for the school newspaper and was only ever trusted to be the editor of the "song dedication" section.  Can you guess how hard it was to be in charge of the "song dedication" section? Well let's just say it's about as difficult as playing the outfield in T-Ball. (And I know this because I spent two years there making daisy chains unaware that pint-sizes game were even going on!) I mean, all that was required for my writing assignment was that I checked the song dedication box kept in the school library, screen submissions for profanity, and type them accurately before the deadline. And seeing as we only had 4 issues a year...well, you get the picture. In any case, you are all very sweet and I admire your dedication to procrastination by means of reading my blog as much as I detest my dedication to procrastination by means of writing my blog.

So..... It's almost Thanksgiving!! This is a special holiday for me in that I am not usually invited to participate in the food preparation for reasons that can be easily assumed if you've ever read the very literal title on the top of this page.  It's like an entire day dedicated to giving me a break!  And for that....I am thankful.  I'm also thankful that it means my husband will be home for a long weekend!  I bet you think it's because I love him and miss him and value our time together?  Well I could say that, but then I would be giving into the very human instinct to disguise my real reasons with obligatory statements that might somehow make me feel like I am confirming to you that my marriage is still amazing! So I will instead just skip straight to honesty and tell you that before we start building holiday memories by holding hands around the Thanksgiving table, I need him to do some serious work around the house! Well that, and I love him, and miss him, and value our time together. (Can't fight instinct!)

More specifically, I need him to fix our kitchen window.  Sometime during the monsoon in the last few days our window started leaking.  Normally when these things happen I just ignore it like it's a "man problem" that doesn't concern me the same way he would ignore if I had autumn scented hand soap out during spring time. Men and women...different worlds, different priorities!  But seeing as I thought that he had already attempted to fix the window (he hadn't) and it was still leaking I started to get a little more concerned than usual. I do want to clarify that Luke is incredibly handy!  He works on our own cars, he can do minor remodels, and every picture frame in this house is hung to my exact standards.  He's also crafty with ideas and solutions!  This one time when I took him to meet some old college friends, he even successfully helped devise a system to inflate a kiddie pool with a leaf blower, duct tape, and a straw! (Side note - I probably shouldn't brag about any project that ends with your host saying, "I need to clean up this garage before my father-in-law sees how we did this.") In fact, because of Luke's proven skills, when things go wrong with his handy work, I get a little worried. I even had to corner him about fixing the window a full day before the long weekend started!

So last night, just barely out of his work clothes, he was outside in the downpour double checking the seals and waterproofing our window once again.  I felt so bad as I stared at him from a very warm and very dry kitchen while he worked for nearly 45 minutes to remedy the leak.  When he finally came in he told me that he was pretty sure he fixed it. I was trying to be supportive when I replied by telling him that I was sorry he had to be outside for so long!  Then he says, "It wouldn't have taken that long except my first idea to use duct tape didn't work the way I had hoped!" Ummm.......what???????!  Duct tape?  That was his original solution?  In all fairness when Luke gets home from work I thrust the entire weight of the household on him demanding that he watch the kids and give me a half hour to regain my sanity. And I have a hard time breaking this pattern even if Luke has additional responsibilities that require him to be outside in heavy rain, the man is a Saint...trust me! Anyway, our conversation when a little like this:

Me: Duct tape?
Him: Yeah....it was pretty smart, I built a ledge so the water would travel over the window.
Me: Duct tape?
Him:  Jenny, it's not a big deal!
Me: Duct tape?
Him: Jenny!  It was never intended to be a permanent solution.....unless it worked.

I'm kind of being an awful wife right now because I am writing about the 1% of the time where I really question his judgment while I never take the opportunity write about the 99% of the time he successfully fixes problems that are mostly created by me. Someday I'll give him a guest pass to take over my blog and he can tell you all of my shortfalls and begin to even the score out.  I'm guessing he could start with the day that I closed the garage door on myself breaking the car antennae off while he very sweetly acted as though it could happen to anyone!  That's actually the least of my offenses.....

Until that day, I hope you all have a wonderful wonderful Thanksgiving!

"Guess My Weight" and Other Bad Party Games...

Is it me, or is November flying by?  I truly did not even realize that Thanksgiving was next week until I stopped by a harvest-decorated Safeway this morning for an energy drink, a bag of chips, and some turkey-jerky.  Now I'm not denying that there may have been a time in my life that this could have been my breakfast of choice (dorm room memories come flashing back), but that was long ago when my metabolism was a little faster, my good-judgment was a little slower, and I could buy anything with a student-ID card at a campus store.  10 years later, my  body doesn't forgive me in quite the same manner for eating meals made out of a hot-pot. So just in case you're curious, the chips are for a monthly dinner club where I am only ever trusted to bring the one appetizer I have managed to master (chicken dip with chips), and the turkey-jerky is for Emery's preschool Harvest Party where my tardiness in dropping him off left me the last option on the contribution sign-up list. Apparently you have to be early if you want to bring apple slices or crackers, who knew?

The energy drink actually was for me!  I don't drink them very often, but in preparation for all the holiday-eating heading my way, I've amped up my workout program and needed a little artificial kick-start to get in gear.  Of course, it's not hard to "amp up" your program when your normal routine consists of waiting for the perfect time of day to break out your Jillian Michael's DVD knowing full well that (between kids and cleaning) that time only comes at 10:30 pm which is also conveniently when I deserve to get some much needed rest.   I mean....power walking to the mailbox would be "amping up" my workouts!  Okay, it's not that bad, but really I do need to rearrange my priorities and get fitness back in front of fraternizing.   And this week presented the rare chance to do just that! It was a perfect storm of motivation, opportunity and willpower!

Motivation:  Truth be told, it isn't the holiday eating that brought me back to marathon elliptical sessions. It was something far worse!  If you've been a reader of my blog for a while, you know I'm not particularly fond of personal trainers {read about it here}. So when my friend (name withheld) told me she was now dating a personal trainer (name also withheld), I should have been far more leery than I was! Instead I jumped at the chance to meet him over dinner where after two glasses of wine and 2 hours of asking for fitness & diet tips, he told me he can guess anyone's weight within 5 pounds.  Sober Jenny would know that that statement has red flags all over it!  Buzzed Jenny says, "No way!  Guess me! Guess me!"  So he guessed......14 pounds heavier than I really am!  Keep in mind for someone 5 feet tall, 14 pounds can get into double digits for % of body weight. Translation: I can't blame it on a bulky shirt!  A lesson for all of us: "Guess my weight" is NOT a good party game!  Now I have 14 imaginary pounds to loose on top of all of the "real" weight and toning work that I was already dreading!

Opportunity: I'm probably one of the few people in the world that truly adores their in-laws! For real, I won the "in-law" lottery!  So much in fact, that I was giddy at the prospect of moving mere blocks away from mine.  There are some bonuses to this set up. Close babysitter? Check. Old fashioned home cooked meals? Check.  Free basement gym loaded with toys and already baby proofed? Check!  So while I was sad that they have been out of town for a couple of weeks, I jumped at the chance of claiming my rights to the most private athletic club in town where I can work out to my heart’s content while the kids watch Rio.  Another lesson for all of us: 45 minutes on an elliptical is a long time.  45 minutes on an elliptical watching Rio (again) is a much muuuuuuuuch longer time.

Willpower: This is where the energy drink comes in! I don't have a lot of willpower that isn't spent on making sure my kids are safe and fed, my design work is done, and my house is clean. I'm not too proud to admit I need a little help sometimes.  And in this case, my help comes in a 16 ounce double strength can.  I completely forgot how much energy a RockStar can give you!  The last time I drank these was in my early radio days (RIP KUFO) when they sponsored our station and we had cases and cases laying in the sales department to grab anytime we felt the urge. Truth be told, my manager actually excluded me from those allowed to drink them whenever they wanted. He (not so subtly) told me it was for the sanity of all of those in my department. I was only allowed, unfortunately, to take them home for consumption.

Regardless, I finally got my old stride back!  I'm hoping it doesn't fail me anytime soon because the only back up plan I have is personal conviction and I try not to go there if I don't have to. But here is a wonderful quote that I plan on reading in case of a lack-of-motivation emergency:

I am your constant companion. I am your greatest helper or your heaviest burden. I will push you onwards or drag you down to failure. I am completely at your command. Half the things you do, you might as well turn over to me and I'll do them quickly and correctly. I am easily managed but you must be firm with me. Show me exactly how you want something done and after a few lessons I'll do it automatically. I'm the servant of all great men and, alas, of all failures as well. Those who are great, I have made great. Those who are failures, I have made failures. You can run me for profit or run me for ruin; it makes no difference to me. Take me, train me, be firm with me and I will put the world at your feet. Be easy with me and I'll destroy you! Who am I?

I am HABIT...

 

I'm Going to Need More Ziplocs...

I have a riddle for you:  What's three and a half feet tall and can mentally change seasons quicker than the aisles at Target can have a life-size Santa glowing alongside deeply discounted Halloween goods on November 1st?   Yup.....it's Emery!  And I'm assuming every other post-toddler on the planet?  Or did I just unknowingly over emphasize seasonally driven consumerism in mine?  I mean, this kid was asking about Christmas before he even had the goggles of his aviator costume off after a night spent collecting candy in the most labor intensive way possible; going door to door for one piece at a time.  The same candy that is now safely stashed far above his line-of-sight where my husband and I can eat mini Kit-Kats to our heart's content (so long as we are willing to move some furniture to get at them.)

In any case, it's becoming a tradition in our house to spend November 1st gearing up for the,"What Christmas is really about" speech that needs to be prepped, revised, and solidified for that moment when Emery first lays eyes on the "Big Toy Book" that is bound to be in our mailbox daily from now until December 26th.   Thank you Toys R' Us for that published bundle of joy!  Emery takes better care of that catalog than he does his precious train collection. So as far as the hierarchy of his child-world goes, I'm guessing even Buzz Lightyear would be jealous of the instant rise to the #1 spot in his heart that this catalog commands. I would take it away from him, but this is America and that is his own little version of being sold a slice of hope. I think there might be a good lesson in watching him circle things that "Santa" intends to run out of before he ever lays foot in the Schultz household if he knows what's good for him.  For instance, more than 4 batteries? Not getting it.  20+ pieces?  Not getting it. Makes noise and doesn't have on "off" switch?  Not getting it. Requires me to transform it? Definitely not getting it!

So naturally, you can imagine my surprise that while our house currently remains toy catalog free and a safe zone from the Christmas "I wants" for the time being, Emery still proudly announced the following statement yesterday:

"Mom.....I know the first thing I am going to ask Santa for this year!"

I was just waiting for him to drop the Lego bomb! I've been dreading that for so long because I am way too type A to comfortably make it through 4 years of collecting Legos.  As it stands now, the 6 sets we already have are each separated in Ziploc bags, labeled, and stored with their appropriate instruction manual. I cannot sustain this system  if we start collecting Star-Wars sets and I am required to know the difference between a Clone and a Droid.  It's never going to happen!  But what came out of his mouth was not "Legos" (crisis averted for now!) Instead it was.....

"I'm going to ask for a piccolo!"

Whaaaaaaaaaatttttttt????!!!!!?  A piccolo?  Like a mini-flute?  That's it, Little Einsteins is now banned from my house!  I'll buy every Star Wars Lego set known to man and invite Qui-Gon Jinn to dinner before I buy Emery a piccolo! For a moment I forgot he was 4 and wanted to shake him and say,

"Emery......5th grade band is not cool! I know you think it is because you get to miss half of geography and your friend "Amber" wants to play the flute next to you. But you haven't met the teacher!  He's kind of weird, ranks you by making you sit in certain spots, checks to see if you practiced, and ultimately will ask you (after 4 months) if you can even read music or if you are just pretending? Then your parents will find out that you quit without telling them and will be livid because they spent all of this money on your piccolo and never even got to see you perform at an assembly! If you want to be in music, wait until high school where you can join choir, follow the kid next to you, take extra field trips during the year, and get an A for doing it! Work smarter, not harder kid."

Of course, none of that comes from personal experience....

In any case, I kind of feel like the season has officially begun!  I obviously need to dust off my, "Jesus is the reason for the Season" speech and try and squeeze in Thanksgiving, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that this is easily my favorite time of the year!

Have a great weekend!!

This is the only picture I have them from Halloween Night.  He's not looking and she's cramming a hot dog in her face.  It's a framer!

Vente Triple Shot, Two Pump Sugar Free Vanilla, Nonfat Nonsense...

I think today is one of those days where my brain won't wake up.  Even coffee didn't help!  For those of you who are close to me, I bet you were thrown off by that because everyone knows I don't drink coffee!! For real, I don't.  It hasn't been the easiest thing in the world to resist a habit that brands you a true North-Westerner (along with an active REI membership and "Coexist" bumper sticker on your hybrid coupe) but I have staved it off for years nonetheless.  From a 3 year stint as a Barista in college to enduring countless business meetings in Starbucks, I have never given in to this $5/day drug! 

You hard-core coffee drinkers are an interesting bunch...flashing your "Gold Cards" (and free flavored syrup privileges) almost as though God himself should have sanctioned you to be a part of the interview process for anyone who dares to stand at the helm of your favorite monster espresso machine.  You bicker back and forth about whether Starbucks has gone too corporate or if it's better to be in the Dutch Mafia, and you turn giddy when you get a free birthday drink like you just found $10 in the dryer.  You abbreviate the words "whipped cream" to "whip" (this bothers me so much for no particular reason...you're really not saving that much time.) You speak a nonsense language that would go so far over my head if I hadn't paid off part of my education by enduring collegiate late-night studiers screaming orders at me like their final grade depended on my propensity to get exactly 2 pumps of vanilla in their 110 degree latte. And worst of all, you coffee lovers push your drug on people like myself swearing up and down that the next Pumpkin Latte I try is going to BLOW MY MIND like the 5 I've had before (once a year for the last 5 years) never did.

But no one has ever gotten to me.  My kitchen counter has remained Keurig free and I've never once waited in line to redeem a Starbucks Treat Receipt.  So getting off my high horse.....and onto a confession, I should be honest and sat I actually have a faaaaaaaar worse habit.  It's a little something called "Diet Coke."  I LOVE Diet Coke!  I love it in the morning, I love it in the evening, I love it in a can, I love it in a bottle, I love it in mixed drinks, I love it!!!  If I could pre-write my obituary, I'm sure it would say:  Jenny died happily of aspartame poisoning.  For those of you worried about my health, I drink a lot of water to compensate and do limit myself to a certain amount a day.  But I just can't shake the silver can habit no matter how many times someone tells me that my drink of choice can literally take the rust of a nail or shine up an old penny.  I just shut my ears and scream "lalalalalalalalalalala!"  So, continuing in the spirit of honesty, my husband and I (who has the same horrible habit) have been trying to quit drinking soda for the last 5 years at least once every 3 months.  He usually leads the charge, I always cheat, and we never succeed.

But three weeks ago, for whatever reason, Luke decided to buckle down and get serious about changing his ways.  I didn't notice at first.  But after a few days of some incredibly chipper morning check-in calls, I couldn't figure out why Luke was SO happy.  I mean....did he get his hands on some uppers?  He works at an accounting firm so unless it's "wear a Hawaiian shirt day" I couldn't imagine that anything spectacular was happening at the office. (No offense accountants....it takes all types to make the world go round!)  Then he came clean.  "Jenny, I switched to coffee and it's AWESOME. It tastes like crap (direct quote) but it's AWESOME." So being the ever supportive wife that I am, after he proved his dedication to living Coke-free for two whole weeks, I bought our home it's very first coffee maker. (I'll get him the Keurig if he makes it a year).  So anyway, he's been using it....and I've been staring at it wondering if it really is the key to getting off the brown syrup? 

I hadn't really been motivated to try it until today though and it's only because I had one of those nights. The kind where you wake up to a 3 foot shadow by your bed whispering, "I have to go potty!"  Being the great mom I am I said half-awake, "So go."  

Emery: I already did.
Me: So go back to bed.
Emery: I want to sleep with you.
Me: No, go back to bed.
Emery: I need to change my pants, they're kind of wet.
Me: Did you pee them?
Emery: No! ..................................a little.
Me: Okay, I'll get you some new pajamas.
Emery (After changing): Will you lay with me?
Me: (half asleep) For a few seconds.

So if you're a parent you know how this ends.  I spent all night in bed with my toddler who was clinging onto me like a baby monkey in a grip Houdini himself couldn't escape, on a horribly uncomfortable mattress with cheap pillows, with only a Cars blanket to keep me warm, while the worlds brightest night light rotated ocean fish around the room and left me with what can only be described as the worst night of sleep the universe has ever offered.  If ever there were a time to try that coffee maker....it was this morning!!

So I did!  My final verdict is that I am not sure that coffee is great.  But my mug of creamer and sugar was fantastic! I think some caffeine snuck in there though, because my heart is pounding and I'm not even sure this blog makes sense?!  Forgive me for the time you wasted reading it!

Happy Thursday

Powder Blue, Brass & Glass

I love the Home Depot for 2 very specific reasons:

1. They have those genius carts that look like a car with the double steering wheels that my kids adore! This means I can shop with my children buckled in, and entertained, and not touching things, or asking questions, or begging for candy, or touching each other.  If ever a Peace-Prize could be awarded to an inanimate object, I think this would be our clear winner.  (Are you taking notes Trader Joes?  Love your store....but your cart situation needs some attention!)

2.  It a store of possibility!  It's a place where you can spend hours discussing what your brand new Kelly Ripa inspired kitchen is going to look like when you finally have the time and the money (30 years from now) even when you're just stopping in for some potting soil.  At the Home depot I can imagine all my door knobs matching, that brass and glass foyer light I've always hated gone, and the Bold Look of Kohler.  It's candy for a grown-ups soul, really it is.

So unless you have a really bad understanding of the concept of foreshadowing, I bet you can guess that I went to Home Depot this weekend? Specifically, I went for paint which in itself is a huge deal because as much as I want to shine our little house up, I am just DONE painting.  It's not that our current house doesn't a need a color re-do (what were the previous owners thinking? Was powder blue on clearance?) It's more that our first home before this was one that required "possibility and potential goggles" while signing the closing papers.  We spent the first 3 years of our marriage painting every wall in every room including the exterior until I didn't even need to read the sharpie names on the orange aprons at the paint counter anymore.  They knew us, and we knew them.  And naturally, as you can imagine, once all of my door knobs matched in that house and the last wall was painted.....we decided to move.

So anyway my extreme disdain for powder blue restrooms has been silenced my extreme fatigue of painting and I haven't been to that section of Home Depot for a while. But then this weekend, my husband made one small fatal error.  He decided to deep clean around a faucet. And being the extra prudent fellow that he is, he pulled the faucet off to do it....and I caught him.

Me:  "Hey, since you have that off, I want to run to Home Depot and pick out a new one!" (The old faucet was obviously picked out by the lovers of powder-blue.  I wish I could find them to give it back!  I have no doubt they are eating Pop Rocks while listening to Sinead O'Connor right about now...)

Luke: Well can you get a new towel holder too? I don't like this one and since we're changing things....

Me:  Well if you're going to pull the towel holder off, we should paint too!

And so on and so forth.....

Remember when I said my husband made one fatal mistake this last weekend?  Make that 2.  The second, of course,  being that he sent me to Home Depot by myself thinking I wouldn't meander down a few extra aisles when I was done selecting paint. Speaking of paint,  I love that there is a huge sign on the counter that says, "Men selecting paint colors will need written permission from their wives." I wish I had thought of that!  But I did think of another sign for them.  It goes like this:

"Men sending their wives to Home Depot alone for paint shall not hold us liable when she returns with new chandeliers as well"

Too specific? Not in our case!  So Luke spent the rest of night plumbing, painting, and hanging lights and I spent the rest of the night at happy hour with my dearest friends.  And they say marriage gets hard after 7 years?  Nah!  I say it runs more like a well-oiled machine where my husband understands that his best chance of peace is to send me out and shut himself in a closed bathroom.  He's not a pushover, he's a genius.  And that's why I love him!

Have a great week friends! 

PS....Anyone want a heinous light fixture?  Or should I save it for our community garage sale where inexplicably people will buy anything as long as you act like you're not ready to let it go?

Crayola Markers in Preschool.....Crayola Markers in College.

So yesterday was Emery's 4th day of preschool which loosely translates into my 4th day of freedom!  Although it's funny how my definition of "freedom" has changed over the years.  At age 8 it meant I could ride my bike to 7-11 for a Slurpee. At age 13 it meant that I could stray from my mom for an hour at the mall and shop for a new Esprit bag without someone asking, "Why is that bag $20 cooler than this one?"  At age 21 it meant that I could stop toting around Crayola markers in an attempt to mimic bar stamps so that I could enjoy my God-given right to sing a little Karaoke!  (Side note:  Don't judge!  I lived in a university town, was the youngest of my friends, and it was a time honored tradition that had been passed down by those who shared the same 20-something brain-lapse that I fear for my own children!  Did I mention Luelle isn't going to college away from home?  Ever.)  Regardless, at age 32 "freedom" means I can tote a 19 month old around for 3 hours while running errands at sonic speed, all the while thinking, "How did I not realize how easy life was when I only had one!?"  (I'm sure those of you with 3+ are laughing at me right about now....)

So back to yesterday, I somehow got it in my mind that with my 3 precious hours I was going to go to Winco and do some grocery shopping.  Now I'm not much of a Winco shopper.  It's not that I don't appreciate a good reduced-price can of Ranch-Style beans, it's more that it's just way too far away and I can't take the intense pressure of speed bagging groceries while the checker holds up the next order snickering at my inability to keep up the pace. Seriously, I loathe bagging my own groceries there; it speeds up my heart rate. The plastic bags never come apart easily and the paper bags only hold a few things each unless you happen to have a level of puzzle solving skills that warrants your acceptance onto CBS's Survivor.  So while I completely understand people's love of Winco's low price selections, I have to say I would rather save money by stretching out my (denied) hair coloring treatments than shop there on a regular basis.  To each his own, right?

But yesterday I needed to restock on things like salad dressing and canned basics and I simply cannot deny that Winco's prices are significantly better on mega-trips than my little town's Safeway where if you shop wrong, ketchup is going to cost you a good portion of your child's college savings. So I braved the crowds and stuck little LuLu in the cart determined not to get caught in the aisle gridlock that my husband (not so) affectionately refers to as the "Winco Shuffle" ("Which way you going?  Whatcha trying to get at? Am I in your way?  Can you hand me that?")  I believe with my whole heart that at the end of any Winco trip I have, by nature, bonded with my fellow shoppers more than I could have ever bonded with the girls who taught me the marker bar-stamp trick!  So it's only natural to size these people up as soon as I enter those double doors.  I mean, we're going to spend the next hour together analyzing each other carts, talking about whether Santias chips are better than Juanita's, you get it.

But do you know what I discovered?  Winco in practically empty at 8:00 in the morning! For the most part I didn't even have to engage in conversation!  I did happen upon another shopper by the cilantro but I didn't talk to her because she was too busy touching every single bunch of it and selectivity smelling some for freshness.  Are you supposed to smell cilantro?  I've never done that.  It was kind of gross and made me rethink my desire to make pico de gallo in the first place.  That's probably something that needed to be rethought anyway because I've never actually made it and I could just stop by Baja Fresh instead and eat mini-cup after mini-cup from the salsa bar to my heart's content for the price of a side of chips!   This leads way to my PSA for this week: always remember to wash your produce people!

For as empty as that store was it still took me forever to get out of there.  It reaffirmed my belief that it may just not be the store for me.  I have a low patience level, short time frame, and the money saved by shopping there is eaten by commute when gas is $4 a gallon!  In fact, I was so tired when I was done that instead of making a special trip to get a fall scented candle (one of my yearly traditions when the weather changes) I just bought one from the dog food aisle.  I did smile that it was only $7 instead the $25 Yankee candles that I desperately try to justify to myself every year.  I don't care who you are or how much money you have, there had better be gold flakes in $25 candles! And they better be made in a world of rainbows by magical unicorns where kittens cry when less superior candles are burnt!  Thank the good Lord above for Bed, Bath, and Beyond 20% off coupons, because I don't feel the same way about $19.99 candles...

Hope you all had a great week!

And So It Begins...

Okay, I've been taking an extended hiatus from my blog...I know.  Somehow I decided that I deserved a "Summer Vacation" from self promoting and decided that I would come back to my little project in the fall.  (Side note: did you know you shouldn't capitalize seasons? I had to Google that.)  If you're like me, fall is a second chance at conquering your New Year's resolutions. It's a time to give it your all (for a week) again!  So I'm going to see if I can start squeezing in a few blogs while Emery is hard at work conquering his grueling 3 hour schedule at a place where a good day means you didn't need your "emergency clothing" conveniently kept near the pint-sized restrooms. 

Ahhhh......preschool.  You've been a long time coming, my friend!  Maybe not every parent anxiously awaited for the momentousness "first day" to arrive with the same anticipation as myself.  But I bet those are the same parents that have a well-used craft bin at home with pipe cleaners, glue sticks, and other little dollar store finds that can be made into toddler projects whenever inspiration strikes (yep...I'm talking to you Pamela Susan!)  Notice I said a well-used bin.  Don't get me wrong, I have all of those things.  I'm not sure where they are and they definitely aren't opened, but I have them.  In any case, as a work-at-home mom with two toddler schedules to juggle, I have to be honest and say I'm not breaking out the glue gun that often. But I digress....

What I was trying to get at is that although I'm not winning any awards for a strongly structured home pre-preschool curriculum, I've always known that when the day arrived for Emery to start school, I wanted to be one of the parents who make it a priority to be involved.  This was heavily foreshadowed by my own childhood tendencies where I did things like begging to stay after recess to help the aides pick up balls so my "go home slip" would have a gold star instead of just a check.  And that was only first grade!  Fast forward to afternoons where I was up to my elbows in tempera* paint making student council posters and it's not shocking that my kids might develop a strategy to hide parent volunteer forms from me. Speaking of tempera paint, I bought some for Emery's classroom (even though it was the optional supplies list) just because the smell brought back fond elementary school memories the same way the sight of Elmer's Glue still makes me think of that kid (name withheld) who used to spread it on his hand until it dried and peel it off like it was dead skin.  I bet if he has his own kids, he taught them this nifty little trick in an effort to pass the legacy on!  I base that assumption on the fact that even though my over-involvement is embarrassing to admit, I can't shake it from my DNA 15 years later!

As you can imagine, when I got an email saying the very first PTO meeting was taking place in the church basement I cleared my schedule to make an appearance.  But seeing as the preschool is connected to a private school with children who've been attending for up to 7 years, I knew I would be low man on the totem pole and tricked my husband into coming with me.  "It's a parent's meeting Luke, everyone will be there!"  Ha!  Everyone was not there.  Am I the only one who got the letter? Or the only one that cared?  In all fairness they only gave us 2 days warning so I'm imagining very few people had the same flexibility to attend. But regardless I had just walked into a private meeting with the principle, two other moms, and the office administrator.  So I sat there and very awkwardly kept my mouth shut in a meeting where the seasoned pros went back and forth with inside jokes that I'm assuming might be funny to me if I had a 5th grader who took art literacy last year.  It was a very narrow audience they were appealing to if you catch my drift. They were very nice women, but I couldn't have jumped in there with an ice breaker if I tried!  We did finally have a chance to contribute to the meeting though.  When conversation worked its way to volunteerism, it was suggested that parents could offer their natural skill to help out.   

PTO Mom:  "So if someone likes to cold call, they can volunteer to cold call for us!"

Luke: "Yeah....good luck finding a cold caller. Solid idea"

Needless to say that if we weren't on the radar two weeks ago, we are now.

(*Edited because tempura is a batter and tempera is a paint!  You failed me spellcheck!)

Here are some pictures of Emery on his first day.  Joking aside, We really do love his new school and everyone there has been amazing!

He kept doing this!

So proud of his "big boy" backpack!

"Leave already mom!"