Bad News Bears

I feel like this weekend's football game could have been taken straight from the 70s film The Bad News Bears - even if the movie is about baseball and not football. Suffice it to say it is a good thing we were playing a team that had little to no talent because watching the game was one of the most painful things that I have had to endure since last week's soccer practice.

For beginners we had no coach, and for a while it appeared we would not have any players. Wes stretched all four players who showed up for the pre-game warm-up. Then we had players show up in uniform that we had never seen before. When the rain fell, I was crouching under that friendly three foot bush that just last week failed to protect me from the scorching sun. It also failed at protecting me from the rain.

Once the game began, Evan missed a tackle that allowed the other team to score. When it came time for Keagan to run the ball, the QB mishandled the ball, the defense was able to grab Keagan's shirt, and Keagan dragged the other boy about five yards downfield. While on defense, Keagan went for a flag and a player on the offensive line put Keagan in a bear hug. To top it off, most-annoying-side-line-coaching father's son played QB.

After all that, would you believe that we actually managed to win?

So it was probably nothing like The Bad News Bears except the title. But bad it was.

Next game is Thursday night. Wes is prepared to coach. Evan is prepared to tackle. Keagan is prepared to loosen himself from any strong hugs, and I have the camera ready to record some magic.

Lord knows I didn't get any this weekend.

All About Abbigail

Wes began block leave on Tuesday afternoon, and on Wednesday, after a really long drive, his family arrived from Texas for a short visit. We had nine people living together in the same house.
Yep, nine.
I'll just be honest and say our house has never been so loud.
The highlight of their visit, in my opinion, was playing with our adorable niece Abbigail.

Gas Experiment

Mrs. Aspinwall invited me to join the class today for a science experiment.
It was hot. I was sweating, and one little girl asked, "Mrs. Toole, did a balloon explode in your face and leave baking soda all over it, or are you just sweatin'?"

I can add candid questions to the list of things I missed while teaching middle school. 

We Aren't Poor Anymore

Whining.
Tattling.
Inability to tie shoes.
Indecipherable code used instead of English.
Lack of mature and rational discussions.
Tattling.
Snotty noses.
More tattling.
All of the reasons why I said I would never teach elementary school again. I was so certain of this that five years ago I gave away all of my second and third grade language arts folders, my holiday units, my folder games, and even a few books from my library. In June, I gave my few remaining blocks, bulletin board pieces, and center activities to a new teacher that I thought would find better use of them than I would. After all, I am a middle school math teacher, a field that is always in demand. Guess what I will be teaching this year.

Guess what I wish I had.

I am not upset in the least, though, because I am just so grateful to finally have a job, and according to Evan this means "we aren't poor anymore." More importantly, it also means daily hugs, lots of laughs, joy, innocence, and getting to know a group of children almost as well as my own - all of the things that I missed while teaching middle school.

Going back to work in August never felt better.

Yard Crashers

I feel like we just lived through an episode of some landscaping project on the Do It Yourself Channel. We combined Wes's vision, my plant choices, and my parents' hard work to change this 

into this.

As happy as I have made Lowes this past week, I will never again try to build a patio with paver stones. Especially in August.

Our next project is this part of the backyard.

I am thinking hired help may be in order.

Jekyll Cup

Evan has learned some valuable lessons while playing with the Gators. This weekend he learned the art of losing, something he knows very little about while on the soccer field. Here's the rundown of the knowledge gained this weekend while playing in the Jekyll Cup.

1. You cannot play goalie when a teammate is already in the box playing goalie.
2. You cannot play both offense and defense at the same time. No matter how hard you try.
3. Some of your teammates play soccer to have fun and not necessarily to win.
4. Some girls play soccer as well as boys. They can also be just as physical.
5. Penalty kicks can make your heart stop for a split second, and they always make the ball move in slow motion.

I also learned a few valuable lessons.

1. I can never pack enough water and Gatorade for the family who must endure five or more hours sitting in the sun.
2. I can scream plays and "encourage" all I want and sometimes my son is stubborn enough to believe he can play offense and defense at the same time.
3. Four soccer games in one weekend is perhaps a bit overkill - even for me.
4. I scream louder when my son scores the first goal after losing the previous game 13 - 0.
5. I can eat my weight in mango flavored Italian ice when it feels like 112 degrees outside.
6. My younger son can entertain himself for hours climbing trees, making new friends with other siblings on the sidelines, and playing football games with imaginary players.

King Keagan is Six

He's funny. Fast. Affectionate. Smart. Athletic. And today Keagan is six years old. 

We celebrated Friday after school with a knight party at a castle. We made knight shields and princess crowns, played a few video games in the arcade room, and had lots of sword fights.

Brown Eyed Boy

Evan has my brown eyes, my hair color, my freckles, my personality, and my very strong opinions. He also got my eye sight.

No worries, though. We told him wearing glasses might improve his pass completion stats, and now he won't take them off.

Eating Plums 101

I surprised the boys at school this week with a visit during lunch. This was due, in part, to my own extreme boredom because lunch in a school cafeteria with hundreds of kids is about the worse thing any adult should endure. This visit, though, was nowhere near what I had envisioned. In fact, it was rather pleasant.

Music played in the background. Kids sat quietly. Kids walked in an orderly fashion.
For some reason, I had middle school lunch in my mind, and the fact that no food was thrown, was reason enough for me to be happy.

I forget, at times, that my kids attend a Title 1 school. This came to light, though, as I watched the boy across the table from me try to eat a plum. He rolled it around in his hands several times trying to figure out his plan of attack. He touched the skin with his finger, tried to peel the skin, and then tried to break it in half. It was obvious this was something he had never done before. I watched as he attempted time and time again to use his spork to pull the meat of the plum off the center stone. He was not successful. When no one else was looking, I whispered, "Hey, just bite into it, honey." He gently replaced the spork, now broken in half, to his tray and took one big bite. With juice running down his chin and a mouth full of fruit, he smiled with success.

It struck me then that this little boy has so much to learn about life. This seven year old boy who must be taught something as inconsequential as to how to eat a plum is also expected to leave second grade knowing how to read as well as my son, a boy that asked me just this week if I would pick up kumquats on my next shopping trip. A boy that has a full library at his disposal in his bedroom.

This is a task that many would find insurmountable, but a task that the teachers and leadership team at our Title I school have been able to achieve several years running. Hence, our reason for enrolling the boys in public school.

Perhaps I would be somewhat dishonest if I didn't disclose that the boys also have complete meltdowns when I pull out dry erase boards, site word flashcards, and workbooks. How can it bring them such distress when it brings me such happiness? This is something that I will never completely understand but another reason the boys are in public school.

Next Friday's school cafeteria lesson: Appropriate methods for consuming salad dressing. 

The Bears

The boys are playing football again this fall. I am using "fall" loosely because our season runs August to September, when the humidity and temp are neck to neck and rising to about 95 every day instead of 98. Much to Evan's disappointment, he is playing flag instead of tackle. Because the YMCA league is the only league that allows five year olds to play, it was easier this way. After running around last spring with such a crazy Saturday schedule, I decided I couldn't have the boys in different leagues. When I told Evan it was this or nothing, the whining and crying were minimized to border-line-annoying instead of driving-me-crazy-annoying.

However, this season the boys are on the same team, The Bears, and this has brought a new enthusiasm to the game of flag football. We attended the first practice today in the noon day sun. With the air so thick with moisture I felt like I could bite it.

Have I mentioned that it is hot here in Georgia? It was so hot today that I thought that I would melt into the ground and that was while trying to steal some shade from a three foot shrub. 

The focus of this week's practice was the passing game. Evan and another boy that just happens to have the most annoying side line coaching father that I have ever met are vying for the QB position. It appeared Evan had won the coveted spot but Sideline Coaching Annoying Dad made it known that he thought tryouts might continue until the first game. I foresee a real fun season with this guy. Even though I stood next to him throughout most of practice, I decided the bit of shade I received from the shrub, however slight, was more important than my mental health. 

I may have misjudged the impact one annoying father could have on me, though.

Keagan took a few passes and did really well, but as most know, he is really more interested in the running game. That will be Tuesday. Next time I am bringing an umbrella so that I can carry my shade to anywhere Sideline Coaching Annoying Dad is not.

Go BEARS!

Canadian Chameleons

The heat is sweltering and that yellow bus arrives later and later every day. By the time that thing arrives, I am literally dripping with sweat standing at the bus stop. The boys finally arrive and are so lethargic from the drive in the hot bus, that it is all that they can do to walk off the thing. They are drained; I am drained, and we look up the long street thinking we have still another 7 minutes before we make it back into the AC.

When the boys got off the bus yesterday, though, Keagan was running to get to me first.

That could mean only one thing. Evan got in trouble at school and Keagan couldn't wait to be the first to tell me. There would be no other reason why anyone, including our white Kenyan, would need to run in 100 degree temps.

But, Evan would never get in trouble. Not the first week anyway. All of that running was because Keagan was excited to tell me he got to go to the "magical" school library AND he got to check out a new book. About Canadians.

I never knew my five year old held such a fascination with the country, but assuming it had something to do with the World Cup, I let it slide. Really, at this point, I was near spontaneous combustion and I only had thoughts of glasses of cold lemonade and AC. I could not have cared less about the book he chose at the library.

Last night he wanted to read his new book for story time. As he pulled it out of his backpack chanting "Canadians. Canadians. Canadians.", I asked him why he chose the book. He told me, "Well, I always like bugs and animals."

I asked, "What bugs are in Canada?" And he said, "Canada?? What are you talkin' about Mama?" And that is when I saw the title. "The Crafty Chameleon"

Canadians are not chameleons.

Soccer in the South

Tonight was our first practice with the travel team. Evan has been extremely worried about being accepted by the team; he knew he was the outsider joining the group. Like Team United, this team has been together for three full years, most of them attend the local Christian academy together, and their families have been friends for years. He did not know how open the boys would be to allowing him to play. However, after about half an hour of practice, they slowly began to pass the ball to him. By the end of the practice, he was wrestling in the middle of the field with the rest of the boys. 

I was really impressed with the coaches; it's obvious they are teaching themselves the game, but they had some drills that were challenging. Interestingly, Coach Jarrod said a prayer at the end of practice. I asked Evan what they prayed for and he said, "I don't remember. I was trying to find the other team because I've only heard of people praying right before a game. I was trying to find the team we were about to play."
Later I learned that the coach is a deacon in a local church and prayer is something the team practices every time they meet. Can you even imagine that taking place with a soccer team in Northern Virginia?

Hinesville is looking better every day.

In Their Own Words

Two days down. 184 days until summer break. This is what the boys said, in their own words, about their new school, their new teachers, and their new classmates.

Keagan:
I sit by two kids. One's a boy friend and one's a girl friend. I looked at the boy friend and said, "Hey, I'm Keagan. You wanna be my friend?" The boy said no, and I said, "Why not?" He told me he already had a friend so I looked at the girl friend that sits on the utter side of me and I said, "You wannna be my friend?" She said okay and so now my friend is Elizabeth. She is a girl. I asked my new girl friend, not the boy friend, if she wanted to eat with me and Miss Banks in the butterfly garden.

I got to go to PE today and we had to run laps. I started runnin' and I passed everbody and when I went by the boy friend that didn't want to be my friend, I waved and said, "Bye-bye. Don't get lost in the dust." I passed him going speed. I crossed the finish line first.

We used our mats today for quiet time. I fell asleep and this kid that gets on my nerves woke me up by steppin' on my foot. I said, "This is how you wake me up? Steppin' on my foot? What? Are you autism or sumthen?"

Evan:
Mom, let me tell you something embarrassing that happened to me today. When I was at PE this girl came up to me and said, "Do you like girls?" I told her, "Well, yeah." And then she told me her friend likes me. I told her I am not into having a girl friend but I will be her friend... On Monday I am NOT spiking my hair. I don't care if it makes me cuter; I don't want girls disturbing me when I am working.

I made a new friend today. I knew we were meant to be friends because guess where he came from? He came from Germany and I told him I was born there and I am going back there! That means we are both German. His name is something that I can never remember. I think it might be Jecovah.
I asked sarcastically, "Was it Jehovah?" And Evan exclaimed, "Yeah, that's it! You know him?"

Hittin' the Waves

Before we actually arrived, this is how I had envisioned our weekends in Georgia.

It's Saturday morning and the clock reads 8:00. We are loading the car with a cooler full of picnic supplies, beach chairs, boogey boards, and a football. We are driving a few miles south to one of the most beautiful places in the world. We spend a wonderful summer day on the beach at St Simons without a care in the world.

Perfection!

And this Saturday we were able to do just that.

Now Wes is in agreement that St Simons is everything I have said that it would be. 

First Day of School

For the first time since school year 1997-1998, I am not welcoming a group of students to the first day of school. Which means that I had the time to drive the boys to school, walk them to their classrooms, and help them organize their school supplies like all of the other stay-at-home moms. But they would not have it. 

The big yellow school bus was much more enticing to them. 

After countless reminders to Evan to make sure that Keagan arrived safely to his classroom on B hall with Mrs. Banks who has the blue door next to the boys bathroom, the big bus driver gave the kids assigned seats and separated the boys.

For a split second I contemplated the idea of jumping on the bus and riding with the boys so that I could make sure Keagan arrived safely, but in my mind's eye I caught a grainy image of an Evan expression showing pure horror, and I knew it would never happen. Keagan was embarrassed enough to have to carry his nap mat in front of the big kids. He would have never survived a stunt from his crazed mama.

And that big bus driver was kinda scary. I shudder to think what he might have done.

So I bid farewell from afar and shed a tear or two while walking back to an empty house. The same house I have wanted empty and quiet for the past seven weeks.

Now whatever will I do until 2:45 when that yellow bus returns with my babies? 

Last Day of Summer

Today is our last day of summer vacation. Maybe I should clarify that this is the last day for the boys. Since I never found a job, I am on somewhat of a permanent vacation, and I haven't quite figured out how I feel about that. Thankfully Wes will deploy and bring in extra money. Otherwise, I think we would be in the WIC line with all of the other families of soldiers.

To make the most of our last day of freedom, we went to the pool with friends. These four act like they have been friends for years instead of weeks.

Open House

We attended Open House at Taylors' Creek tonight, and the boys LOVE, LOVE, LOVE their new school. With SMART boards, FLIP cameras, digital cameras, LCD projectors and computers in every room, there is definitely an emphasis on learning with technology. Evan said the library was "magical"; he is such my boy! Keagan took a lap around the awesome gym and felt right at home. 

Keagan met his teacher Mrs. Banks, and he is more than ready for the first day of school. 

He even completed his first homework assignment, "Kindergardeners, Come Out of Your Shells". He decorated his paper plate turtle like a soldier and used the Spanish moss to camouflage good ole Rick the Turtle.

Evan met his new teacher, Mrs. Aspinwall, or Mrs. Asprinwall if you ask Evan to try to pronounce it. Evan is so excited about the first day, and since he has begged to be home-schooled for two years, this is saying a lot for my boy!

This evening Evan asked, "Am I talking like I am from Georgia yet? I think Mrs. Asprinwall might teach me how to do that this year." Because she lives in the town promoting year around tractor pulls, I think that might be a real possibility.