Thanks.

We were having a slumber party, the kids and I - all piled in the bed together over Christmas Vacation.  Reagan, for some reason, asked me how old I was.

Me: "Well, figure it out."
Colby: "She's 45".
Me: "NO I'M NOT!!!"
Colby: "Well, you're close to 45.  Dad's 45."
Me: "He is.  I'm MUCH younger."
Reagan: "Well then, how old are you?"
Me: "Figure it out.  I was born in 1972, and it's now 2015."
Reagan: "I know, you're 43."
Me: "Yes."
Quinn: "See, Reagan, it went like this.  First there was Adam and Eve.  Then there was Mom."

WHAT???????  EXCUSE ME?????  I get no respect around here. 

On Mary and Joseph

Studying the Nativity story this Advent, and it was brought up that Mary was Joseph's fiancé when she conceived.  Reagan was confused as to how Mary was not considered married, when she obviously had Joseph.

Quinn: "Oh, Mary and Joseph were married when Mary became pregnant."
Mom: "No, they weren't.  He was her fiancé."
Quinn: "That's the same thing, right?  I thought fiancé was French for wife."

Hee hee.  Close, but no cigar. 

The Homemade Kicksled - also known as "chair on skiis".

Colby the Composer

Colby has been composing songs on the piano lately, and doing a fabulous job.  He's got a good ear.  I get the biggest kick out of listening to him.  This one is called "Viking's Throne". 

A Diamonte Poem, By Quinn Aho

Good, Evil
Doing something right or wrong
Sin and dark
God and light
Nice, helpful
Holy

First Middle School Dance

I wasn't going to let them go.  My goodness - they're only 11 years old.  And they WEREN'T going to go, until Mom went to work, and they focused all their evil powers on a susceptible Dad.  He couldn't withstand the pleading, the tears, the drama.  They went.  BUT, being the sMother that I am, I went, too.  Kind of.  Rob and I snuck in after I got off work and "observed" for a little while.  Casual like.   The only parents spying on their middle-schoolers during their first dance.  The boys pretended not to see us, and each danced with one girl (girls look a WHOLE LOT older than boys at 11 years old, by the way).   Then they spent the rest of the night hanging out, milling with their friends, climbing the walls to look cool.... that sort of thing.  Kinda what I remember from junior high school dances.  It was sweet, and I shouldn't have worried like I did.  They were still kids. {{phew}}.  I did feel a little (a lot) out of touch when all those yoots started dancing in unison to some song I had never heard before. but was obviously the latest and greatest thing EVAH.  Think Macarena, 2015 version.  Whatevs.  But then, right after that, something happened that just warmed my ever-lovin' heart.  The DJ cranked "Don't stop believing" by Journey, and all.the.kids. stopped to cheer and sing along at the top of their lungs.  TO JOURNEY.  Circa 1981.  It gave me hope for the future, and I told a nearby chaperone that it did, and she laughed.  We all were just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, who took the midnight train going anywhere. 

It was a bloggable moment, but I didn't take any pictures.  Bad enough that I was there hanging out with them at their first dance, but I DO feel better about all of it now.  Maybe next time I'll even let them stay til the end.  Maybe. 

Dinner Conversation

I hate Mondays.  I really do.  They're miserable.  If we prepared ahead of time on Sundays, maybe they wouldn't be so bad in the morning.  So, tonight at dinner, I tried.

MOM:  "Quinn.  What are you going to do after dinner?"

((blank stare))

Mom: "Practice your trumpet."
Quinn: "Watch America's Funniest Videos."
Mom: "Do your homework"
Quinn: "Watch Once Upon a Time."
Mom: "Pack your lunch."
Quinn: "Ride my scooter."
Mom: "Pack your backpack."
Quinn: "Look on Ebay."

((blank stare.... from Mom this time)..
Quinn: "I feel like we're on the same page here.  Good."

Eleven Year Old Stats

For the record books, because both boys just had well-child visits.

Quinn weighs 79 pounds and is 58 inches tall.  He's gained 3 inches and 6 pounds in the last year.  BMI 16.5, 34th percentile.
Colby was 72 pounds and is 58 inches tall.  He's gained 3 inches and 2 pounds in the last year.  BMI is 15, 9th percentile.

Colby isn't gaining much weight, which is making his growth curve flatten (even lower) a bit, but the kid eats, so we're not really worried.  I have a feeling a big growth spurt is about to hit.

Other than that, every one is healthy, wealthy and wise!

Onward ho!

A Conversationi with Quinn

So, Quinn and I were driving in the car - a place where most of our best conversations take place - and he was telling me about space.  And flowing water on Mars.  And that water is needed for life.  And that maybe there were microbes or something there.  And that maybe life is also on some other planets, because there HAVE been planets found that are "Goldilocks" planets, just the right distance from their own just-right-sized star, that maybe could sustain life.  All very interesting to think about.  And then he said this:

"We always assume that if there's aliens out there, they must be so far advanced in comparison to us.  But what if we're the ones that are more advanced?"

I thought about that, and then replied "Well, I guess we assume they're more advanced because they'd be coming to us, and we're not yet capable of coming to them."

"Not yet," he replied.  "Give us time.  We'll get there.  And maybe we'll find them!"

This reminds me of a friend from years ago, who stated that what he loved about Star Trek was that it gave him hope for the future.  I'd never really thought about that, but suddenly, hearing my son dream about a far distant future, that made sense to me.  The movie "Tomorrowland" gave me a similar feeling. 

We hear about our imminent demise and that of our planet so much every day - global warming, Isis, thermonuclear war, zombie apocalypse - that I've stopped assuming that we're going to HAVE much of a future. Maybe subconsciously, but it's definitely there.  That feeling of impending doom.   Honestly.  That's depressing!!  But what if, just what IF, we don't self destruct????  What if we miraculously survive ourselves, and it's NOT the end of the world as we know it?  I didn't even realize that I'd had that EOTWAWKI mentality until my son unabashedly dreamt of a distant future where we explore the universe and find other living species.  A good, exciting future, not a "Panem" Hunger-games style future.    What if there's hope for this human race?  I didn't even realize it wasn't there, until he surprised me with it.  Hope.  HUH.  That'd be really cool. 

Thank goodness for eleven year old boys, who are still capable of dreaming about good things.  I need to keep them close.  Maybe their optimism will rub off on me!!

Survival Mode

Middle school is going to do me in.   One of my sixth graders (to be left un-named) actually got into the car for school this morning without shoes.  We were a good mile from home, and he was casually playing the Rubik's cube in the back seat when I asked him why he hadn't put his shoes on yet. 

"I can't find them".  Like....No big deal.  SERIOUSLY ?!?!?!?  Stop the car, search the back seat, discover that there was not a pair of matching shoes to be found (two unmatched shoes floating around, but not a pair). 

"It's okay, Mom.  I'll wear two different shoes to school."  No.  No you will not.  So we turned around, drove all the way home, found some shoes, and were all subsequently "tardy" to our respective destinations. 

Then, tonight, after I get home at 7 pm after an 11 hour work day, I discover that no one has done their homework.  And all three kids have homework.  I check PowerSchool, and find out that the same shoe-forgetting child is flunking every single class, because he hasn't turned in any of his homework yet.  Even though he's done it all.  And he's SHOCKED!  SHOCKED because he did the work!  And the information wasn't transmitted by ESP to his teachers!  A quick check of his backpack found all the missing homework crumpled up in tiny balls under four books and an uneaten lunch.  We'll rely on the mercy of teachers to see if he can still get credit for it or not.  I have my doubts. 

At 9:30 pm tonight, after 2 solid hours of homework, wherein Mom had to nearly physically SIT on both boys to get them to focus, Quinn pops off with the following.

"Mom, we really need to set aside some time earlier in the day to do our homework.  This is just too late at night, and I can't think well because I'm tired."

Well, isn't THAT a great idea.  

"We need a homework schedule.  Let's say 5:00 to 6:00 pm every night.  Right before dinner.  Gives us a chance to relax a bit after school, but we're still fresh."

Another great idea, Quinn.  Does this new-found organization require Mom to nag incessantly over and over again to get homework to start?  Or sit there with you continuously to make sure you don't get up to stare at yourself in the mirror?  Or play footsies with your brother?  Or go to the bathroom twelve times?  Can we assume it will just  happen spontaneously?  Curious minds want to know.

((sigh))

From the time I got home, until right this moment - a full three hours  - my evening was spent preparing three children for school tomorrow.  Homework, emailing teachers, reviewing spelling words, packing backpacks, making lunches, scrounging the laundry for loose coins for a first grader's "Everyday Math" assignment. 

I'm going to ((sigh)) again. 

I really don't know if I'm going to survive this school year.   

 

Conversation In the Car

Quinn: "Mom, what's for dinner?"
Mom: "Roast Beef".
Quinn: "I don't like that."
Mom: "Now you don't like roast beef?  Since when?"
Quinn: "I'm a vegetarian now."
Mom: "But you won't eat your vegetables."
Quinn: "Uhhhhhhhh"
Mom: "That makes you a carbatarian, and that's not okay."
Colby (from the back seat): "Yeah.  And a dessertian."

Pretty much.  Bread and sweets.

How will I keep him alive???

 Quinn and Colby's Language teacher asked us to write a letter introducing them to her.  This is what I came up with.

Colby was born in Marquette, MI as a premature twin.  We had been transferred to Marquette General Hospital for the final two weeks of the pregnancy, after a total of 3 months on bedrest, as I went into pre-term labor at 20 weeks.  Colby and his brother Quinn spent a month in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit there, learning how to breathe, eat, and grow.  Bringing the boys home to Chassell after a total of 6 weeks in the hospital was such a relief!  At one year of age, both Quinn and Colby underwent nephrectomies (removal of a kidney) at the University of Michigan, secondary to severe kidney reflux.  Regardless of the bumpy beginning, Colby has thrived and grown into a healthy young man!

Colby lives with his Dad and I (Rob and Monica), his identical twin brother Quinn, and a little sister Reagan, who is in the 1^st grade.  He attended Chassell Elementary from preschool through 4^th grade.   He and Quinn are very close, and up until 4^th grade were virtually inseparable.   In 5^th grade, we decided to transfer just Colby to Houghton Elementary, while keeping his brother and sister in Chassell, so that the boys could develop their individual personalities and make individual friends.  It took Colby a little while to adjust to being without Quinn, but eventually he was able to make some really great friends and figure out that he’s not just half of a duo.

Colby is active in soccer, and snowboards all winter long.  He loves to swim, and conquered the high dive (the BIG one!!) at Michigan Tech’s pool when he was only six!  He’s a bit of a daredevil, and one of the bravest kids I’ve ever met.  Colby is also very musical, and plays the piano.  He will be starting band this school year, and he’s very excited about that.   Colby likes to act and perform: he’s had major roles in church plays, and gotten up in front of hundreds of people to speak before.   He’s traveled quite a bit in his young life, having visited Hawaii, Belize, Honduras, Mexico, the Cayman Islands, as well as many states in the U.S from coast to coast.  He enjoys flying with his Dad in our small, two-seater airplane.  They just got back from a week of camping on a small island in the middle of Lake Michigan, just the two of them. 

Colby loves to read, and is currently especially interested in mythology (Greek, Roman, Egyptian).  Calvin and Hobbes is also a favorite.  Colby is very interested in all forms of technology and electronics.  Over this past summer, he began learning how to program in HTML, and wants to one day be either a video game designer or a robotics engineer.  He’s hoping to attend Michigan Tech someday, just like his Dad. 

Colby struggles with organization, and often has sloppy handwriting because he rushes through his work.  He’s very capable of producing neat work when he slows down, and this is something that we’ve reminded him about his entire school career. 

He’s really excited about middle school and everything he’ll be able to learn and do!   Here’s hoping for a really great year!!  

------------------

Quinn was born in Marquette, MI as a premature twin.  We had been transferred to Marquette General Hospital for the final two weeks of the pregnancy, after a total of 3 months on bedrest, as I went into pre-term labor at 20 weeks.  Quinn and his brother Colby spent a month in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit there, learning how to breathe, eat, and grow.  Bringing the boys home to Chassell after a total of 6 weeks in the hospital was such a relief!  At one year of age, both Quinn and Colby underwent nephrectomies (removal of a kidney) at the University of Michigan, secondary to severe kidney reflux.  Quinn’s remaining kidney was also bad, and we were told to expect either another surgery or a kidney transplant when he was bigger, but the kidney was healed when Quinn turned two, which we regard as a true miracle. 

Quinn lives with his Dad and I (Rob and Monica), his identical twin brother Colby, and a little sister Reagan, who is in the 1^st grade.  He attended Chassell Elementary from preschool through 5^th grade.   He and Colby are very close, and up until 4^th grade were virtually inseparable.   In 5^th grade, we decided to transfer just Colby to Houghton Elementary, while keeping Quinn and Reagan in Chassell, so that the boys could develop their individual personalities and make individual friends.  Quinn really blossomed during this time “on his own”.  This is his first year at Houghton, and he’s nervous but excited to try something new.

Quinn is active in soccer and basketball, and snowboards all winter long.  He plays the piano and last year started the trumpet, which he took to very quickly.  He’s also learning to play the mandolin – something he’s wanted to do since kindergarten.    Quinn is a soft-hearted boy, and loves animals of all kinds.  He spends quite a bit of time at his cousins’ farm, with the turkeys, chickens, cows and horses.  He also loves rocks and minerals, and has a decent-sized collection in his bedroom.  Quinn enjoys doing tricks on his scooter, and has built a scooter ramp course off our front porch.   He’s traveled quite a bit in his young life, having visited Hawaii, Belize, Honduras, Mexico, the Cayman Islands, as well as many states in the U.S from coast to coast.  He enjoys flying with his Dad in our small, two-seater airplane.  This past summer, they spent a week in Canada near the arctic circle, just the two of them. 

Quinn loves to read, especially Calvin and Hobbes.  He’s a good student, and a hard worker, but prefers hands-on learning and lots of movement.  He’s really excited about middle school, but nervous about the transition to a new school, where he’ll know less people.  Houghton is so much bigger than Chassell!   Here’s hoping for a really great year!!  Please don’t hesitate to contact me with any concerns at all!

 

 

 

 

 

Middle School Craziness

SOOOOOOOOO.
The boys are in middle school.

This means that all.the.stuff. they've always wanted to do is now available to them. 

So they have joined everything.

EVERY.thing.

We now have two boys in band.  Trumpet and drums.  There is a piano, a mandolin, a drum, a set of bells, a guitar, and a trumpet currently in my living room.

And there's football.  They only have one complete set of kidneys between the two of them, and yet.... they're in football.  Not my choice, obviously.  And bribery  is alleged to have been involved in Colby's decision to join as well (Dad?  I'm looking at you). 

Piano lessons continue, but now Reagan has joined in, so I sit for 90 minutes a week in a dark basement with questionable ventilation.

Soccer.  There's still soccer, twice a week without fail.

Squires, with Colby as Sergeant at Arms and in charge of bringing "all the stuff" to every meeting.  We, as in me, are not good at keeping track of "all the stuff". 

Robotics League.  Which apparently is very involved, and includes out of area travel? 

Basketball.  Starts next week, but not yet (thank GOODNESS).

Faith Formation.  I'm sure the boys would be happy to ditch, but Mama won't let them.

And the school play.  I have a feeling at least one of the two will want to be involved. 

This on top of school with daily homework, and piano practice, and band practice, and robotics homework, and achievements for Squires... all of which is supposed to be done "at home", when it's suddenly apparent that they never ARE at home!!!  I might add that the motivator/nag/transporter/keep-track-of-thing-er (moi) is currently on a "9 days in a row" working stint, clocking overtime when I'm supposed to be PART time.  

I'm exhausted just thinking about it. My head is about to explode.   How long can we keep this up???? 

It's always my fault.

Quinn: "Mom, Colby got his name written on the board today at school."
Mom: "COLBY!  What for???"
Colby: "Because you didn't buy me a notebook for school.  I need a notebook for English."
Mom: "You didn't tell me you needed a notebook.  That's not my fault."
Quinn: "He's going to get detention, if he gets three more checks."
Mom: "You boys better not get detention.  I NEVER got detention in all my years of school."
Quinn: "That's because you were a goody two-shoes."
Colby: "And YOUR mother bought you notebooks when you needed them!"

Whatever.  Everything is always my fault. 

Spoiled Kids....

In what is HOPEFULLY the last time this happens for at least the next 9 months (school is starting!!!), I took all three kids with me to Walmart today.  For a solid 2 hours, they asked for all.the.things.  Without letting up.  "Mom can I have gum?"  "Mom, can I have a dollar?"  "Mom, can I buy some candy?"  "Mom, can I have this t-shirt?" 

Finally, in desperation, I cried out to the heavens...
"If one more person asks me to buy something for them, I am going to EXPLODE!!!!"

In response, each of my three innocent children smiled deviously, and asked "can we have a pop?"
("I just want to see you explode, Mom"  Colby said.  Thanks.)

On the way home, during which the kids were asking to have friends invited over, or go to the park, or stop by the video store for a movie, or or or or.... I just couldn't take it any more.

"You guys are driving me crazy.  You must be the most spoiled children in the entire world."

They denied this adamantly.

"We're not spoiled.  We just ask.  You always say no to everything we ask."
"Well, you must be spoiled, if you expect that every day is going to be like Disneyland. We must be spoiling you."

Quinn was introspective.

"No, Mom.  We're just optimists.  I have lots of high hopes."

Whatever.  They're driving me nuts.

Engineering a Skate Park... off the Front Porch

Father Son Day

Daddy took Quinn to breakfast in the airplane.  Here's how Quinn spends his time while Daddy gets the plane ready.

Serving At The Altar

Quinn and Colby are learning how to serve at the altar.  Don't they look so handsome (and holy ?!?!?!) in their surplices????

My talented Children

All the way home from the KC Bonkers Vaudeville Radio Show we went to this afternoon, my kids put their kazoos to good use.  Inspired by the show, I'm sure.  I heard this version of  "Uptown Funk" from the moment we left the parking lot, until I pulled into the driveway at home. 

Who says we don't have talent.

Quotes from a Passel of 11 Year Olds at a Birthday Party

Boys are so.... boys.  They make me laugh and cringe and laugh some more.    I tried to be unobtrusive at the party (well, until after midnight, and then I got CRABBY), and put on my listening ears to catch this:

(during a squirt-gun fight)  "I'm not on a team.  I am a mercenary.  Make me an offer.  No - higher."

"I can't have cake.  I can't have pop.  I can't eat pepperoni. I can't eat chocolate.  I can't eat peanuts."   Apparently, only the watermelon was universally acceptable on the menu. 

"I have a very good sense of taste, and I can tell that your drinking water has moved through plastic pipes before coming in to my cup.  I need different water."

(upon this mama coming upon a miscellaneous 11 year old that she didn't own, stealing her chair when she got up for a second)  Me:  "Hey!  That's my chair!"   Child: "Nope.  Not any more.  It's mine. Find your own."

(upon this mama coming upon another miscellaneous 11 year old shaking the pop and having it explode on her daughter's head)  Me: "HEY!  That's not a good idea!"  Child: "No!  It's okay!"  (????)

Me: "(miscellaneous child that I don't own)!!  Do not play in the woods by yourself at 11 o'clock at night looking for fireflies!!  Did you not JUST hear that coyote right there?"

Colby: "Mom!  I broke my toe!"  Me:  "OK.  We'll look at it after the party.  Carry on."

Me: "Boys!  It is nearly one o clock in the morning.  You MUST got to sleep.  I have to get up in 6 hours to go to work.  The birthday is OVER.  It is officially July 10th.  If I hear one more footstep on the floor, that person will be sleeping with ME upstairs.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND?????"  Miscellaneous boy that I don't own: "WOW!  You're crabby!". 

HOW CAN THIS BE?????

In honor of our birthdays today, we got out the ol' baby books to find out what Quinn, Colby, and Mommy were up to this very day, 11 years ago.  I teared up, which surprised no one, reading the letter from the NICU doctor telling me not to worry, she was going to take good care of my little ones.  (sniff sniff).  And THEN, seeing the imprint of these teeny tiny little feet, and realizing that the boys are so big, baby feet then are the same size as their THUMB now. 

Time is going so so so so so so fast. 

He's Home

Had to celebrate Colby coming home from Camp Gitchee Gumee.  One more offspring safe and sound at home!

Overheard

At the park today, Quinn, Reagan and I were riding on the teeter totter.  I noticed a lady next to us with two small boys, and asked her if they were twins.  Sure enough, they were.  "Fraternal, four years old".  She told us.  What a coinkey-dink.  I told her I owned a pair of twins myself, and gestured towards Quinn.

"Are you an identical twin?" the lady asked my son.

"We used to be," Quinn said.

Uhhhhhhhh.......

"I grew out my hair, so we're not anymore."

Doesn't work that way, Quinn.  As much as you want it to.  Sorry.  You're stuck with your genetic code (same as your brothers') for life, boy.

Little Huskies Basketball

Quinn and Blizzard bonded over Bball. 

Boys In Spring

Who are these grown up men?

 

Stats at 10 years 8 months: Colby

For the record, at 10 years 8 months of age, Colby is58.6 inches tall and weighs 71.6 pounds.  BMI in the 7th%. 

He apparently hasn't grown in height in the last 7 months, but has gained a few pounds.  I have a feeling a big "sprout" is looming in the near future!

In Withdrawal

I have decided that the children are much too attached to electronics, lack any sort of imagination, and suffer from a severe dearth of creative play skills.  As such, the Wii remotes, the iPod, and the Galaxy Tablet all now live full time in our safe.  I was just tired of discovering after the fact that certain above electronics had been snuck TO SCHOOL, or snuck into bed at night, and it was just high time to break the addiction.

This has been ridiculously hard for the boys, and they are going through serious, serious withdrawals.  They wander around the house listlessly, complaining of having nothing to do.  I have graciously offered chores for them to fill their time, but alas - they refuse.  I have also suggested getting rid of the toys and games they DO have, because obviously they are too boring to play with, and are just taking up space in the house.  This also has been frowned upon.  Instead, they run around like banshees, and fight a whole lot.  There's 1000% increase in the tossing of stuffed animals through the air, and screeching of little sisters as she is being tormented.  Productive play: we're not there yet.   This has been harder for me than it has been for them, I assure you.

So yesterday, while at Treats getting ice cream, Colby made some crack, held out his hand, leaned in near his ice cream and yelled "SELFIE!"  All the way home, three children leaned in to hug each other, made faces into thin air, held out a hand in front of them and yelled "SELFIE!  CLICK!". 

((sigh)). 

Their hands have now become imaginary iPods.  Great.  Well, I guess I wanted them to use their imaginations.  Just pathetic that this is as far as it gets.

Thanks For That

At the dinner table tonight:

Reagan had finished not one, but TWO whitefish, as well as a baked potato.  And she was still hungry, so she helped herself to the chicken carcass in the fridge.  Dad was having none of it.

Dad: "No way, Lado Lado.  That's mine for lunch tomorrow.  Sheesh!  Why are you eating so much tonight?"

Mom: "She's a growing girl, Dad."

Colby: "I think she's just turning into a She-man.  Like Mom."

LIKE MOM????????

Dinner Conversation

Sometimes....
..... the boys forget their lunches.  This happened today as well, and being the good Mom that I am, I consciously decided not to run it to school for Quinn.  Natural consequences and all, you know.  I figured he would probably just get himself hot lunch.  He came home starving.  Nope.  No hot lunch.  He had begged the apples off of five different friends and ate that.

Dad: "Colby would've just gotten hot lunch."
Colby: "No I wouldn't!  When I forget my lunch, I set up a 'Feed The Colby' fund, and ask for donations!"
Mom: "Seriously?  You've done that?"
Colby: "Yeah!  I go around the cafeteria and ask for donations to the 'Feed the Colby' Fund.  Except now my friends think it's a fraud."

Probably examined his tax records, I would imagine.  Fraud. 

These boys. 

Overheard

Quinn opened the door today, slammed it shut and ran yelling through the house at the top of his lungs.

"WAIT!  IT'S WARM OUT THERE!  COLBY! REAGAN!  IT'S 30 DEGREES!  QUICK!"


There was a stampede as all three kids headed outdoors within 10 seconds.  30 degrees is shorts weather around here. 

Spring, you're coming.  I'm sure of it!

Dinner Conversation

Reagan, at dinner tonight: "You know, in the Wizard of Oz, those people are SO EXCITED that the witch dies, and they sing that song.  It's kind of weird.  I mean - excited that someone dies?"

Mom: "Well, she was a WICKED witch."

Quinn: "That movie's demented.  Celebrating someone's death?  I mean, they don't what that witch went though in her past, her family, her kids.  How can they celebrate her dying?  It's just wrong."

I never quite looked at it like that before.  Hmmmmmmm.  I don't think I'll ever watch that movie the same again.

The Achieving Student, Part Deux

The move to Houghton Elementary has been good for Colby-man, although he won't quite admit it.  He misses his friends (and his brother - also won't admit that) back at his old school.  We know that this has been a good move for him, though, because our son Colby got nearly straight A's on his report card.  One B in social studies, but otherwise perfect grades.  Good job,  boy.  Handwriting/neatness.... still an issue.  But the brain's all there :).

The Bad Hair Day

Quinn has all of a sudden this year become very aware of his looks.  As in, he spends actual time in front of a mirror each morning carefully arranging his hair.  And really caring what that hair actually looks like.  Colby has lagged a few months behind his brother in the self-awareness department, but just today actually asked to have his hair cut, because a kid at school had teased him about his bed head.  I have been trying to cut both boys' hair for quite awhile, but today, they both said yes.  Well, Colby asked me to do it, and since I was already making the mess and getting out the clippers, I forced Quinn.  He really didn't want his hair cut, but that's just a technicality.

Colby went first, and I clipped his hair with the long clip-guard on, to achieve an even, well-manicured, but not- too- short cut.  He looked great.  Then I went to round up Quinn next for his turn.  This process took awhile, because Quinn was hiding, pretending not to hear me, and then covering his head with a towel so I couldn't trim his precious locks.  Good grief, child.  I finally yanked the towel back, took the hoodie off his head, turned on the clippers, and had at the back.  Except.... at some point, someone had taken the clip-guard OFF my clippers, and threw it onto the kitchen floor.  And I hadn't noticed.  So instead of shaving "a little off the top" with that first swipe, I had accidentally shaved him bald. 

GASP.

I tried to minimize my reaction, but it was too late.  He'd seen my look in the mirror, and heard my yelp of horror. 

"What did you DO TO ME?????"
Uhhhhhhhh.  Nothing. 

"Hey, Quinn!  Did you ever want a mohawk?  Because now's a GREAT TIME to try a mohawk."
He didn't want a mohawk.

"What about shaving your initials in the back of your head?  Wouldn't that be cool?  I'd totally let you do that right now.  Whatta ya say????"

"Mom, I want a nice, normal haircut."  Sure.  Now you choose not to be a rebel. 

I told him a story about how, when I was 20, I decided to have my hair colored for the first time ever, so my mom dyed it "ash blond", because that was the color that she used.  Well, "ash blond" on top of "brunette" turned.... "old-lady gray".  And I was mortified.  So I locked myself in the bathroom and used red dye on my hair, hoping to get some color back.  I got color back.  It turned neon pink.

"Well, people HAVE pink hair, Mom.  Kids my age don't go bald."
My hair tragedy story was not helping.  I needed a solution, quick.    Crew cut was not an option.  He absolutely forbade it. 

"OK then.  Here's the plan.  We're going to keep the top long, and try a comb-over."  He didn't ask what a comb-over was, or what exactly I was covering over, and I was glad.  I was also glad that he couldn't see the back of his head with the tiny compact mirror I gave him to look at it.  I DID take a picture to show him, just so he wouldn't be so self-conscious about it.  He totally knew that I was working the angle to best advantage, and told me so.  He didn't believe this picture I showed him of the back of his head - not one tiny bit.

What I didn't show him was this....

 

I mean, I want him to leave the house tomorrow!  And as of this moment, he's totally refusing to do that.  He wore a baseball hat turned backwards the rest of the day.  I've lost all credibility as a barber.  There goes free haircuts in the Aho house.  BAH. 

 

I do feel for him, though.  Poor kid.  I may have to email his teacher to see if baseball caps are allowed at school, at least for the time being.

 

 

Overheard

Sunday afternoon activity - playing with a big box. 

Quinn: "OK.  A little more tape and we'll mail Colby to Australia."

Colby:  "One problem.  The box isn't very sturdy."  (Mom note:  THAT'S the problem with mailing him to Australia???)

Quinn: "It smells like chicken farts in here."

Colby: "Yeah, I farted."

Quinn: "Wait, I have an idea.  Get out get out get out."

Reagan: "How bout I get mailed to Australia?"

Colby: "We need tape!"

Reagan: "Shut me!  Shut me!  Now!  Tape me!  Tape me!  Make it a surprise for Quinn."

Colby: "Take the light-saber so there's light in there."

(After a few minutes)

Colby: "OK, Mom.  I'm ready to mail Reagan."

Mom: "Where to?"

Reagan (from inside the taped box) "Mail to Africa!"

Quinn comes and opens the box.  Then shrieks and runs away, when he finds his sister.  "I don't want it!  I don't want it!"  ha ha ha

So then, Colby puts Quinn in the box.

Quinn: "It's really uncomfortable in here."

Colby: "It's a jail cell.  It's supposed to be uncomfortable."

Quinn: "Is this how it's supposed to be?  Do I fit?"
Colby: "Yes.  I just have to tape it more.  Jackpot."