is it real?

On the first day of school, A. could not wait to get on this bus.  I think she was more excited about the bus than she was about school itself.  Since then, each week she has become a little less enchanted.  Mommy and Daddy have too for several reasons:
1) Just the logistics- It picks her up at 8:05 for school that is 2 miles away and starts at 9:00.  Then, it drops her off anywhere from 3:50 pm to 4:20 pm. I call it the bus that cried wolf because it will consistently arrive at 4:05 for 3 days and then, the 4th day I take a little while longer with a patient or decide to quickly jog before having to pick her up.  That is the day that it comes at 3:49...
2) At the beginning of the year she came home crying one day because someone started some dumb game where you apparently hit their fingers.  They say, "you cut the gate now who do you hate?"  I guess someone said her name.  After literally an hour of crying, she finally agreed that it didn't really matter.  I told her to play, "give the gate a shove, who do you love?"  B's suggestion was not so nice...
3) That lovely game has progressed to booger touch where apparently you either pretend to pick your nose and touch others with it or you touch someone else's booger.  Now, I know that kids are gross and the bus driver can't stop everything.  But, ewwww
4) Now, I feel like everytime she gets off the bus she has another, "is this real?"

• Is the Boogy man going to jump out at me if I say his name 3 times?
• Is Miley Cyrus changing from singing to killing people?
• Do bats really turn into vampires?  Do bat's suck your blood?
• The only positive one-- Do they really sing songs in other languages?  Then she proceeded to watch "Let it Go" in about 13 different languages on YouTube.  Then, she watched random French lessons on YouTube for another 20 minutes.  I don't think it stuck though...

Call me overly protective, but now I take her to school and pick her up as much as I possibly can. Most of the time there are a few "is it real" days in a week, but far fewer than there were.    

oh the hat

About a month ago, I bought a Fedora for K.  He instantly put it on his head and wore it around for about an hour.  After that, he would wear it here and there for a little bit.  He kept saying, "you know what I like, my hat."  I thought it would be perfect for Easter.  Even better, my neighbor has an etsy business (nora sells sea shells) selling amazing hair bows, bow ties, fabric tents etc. We dropped of the hat one morning and K. cried and cried.  He wanted his hat back.  I kept telling him that it would be even better once it returned.

 Needless to say, I was very excited to see his reaction on Easter morning. Well, it wasn't what I expected. He cried.  He fought us tooth and nail to not have to put on that hat or bow tie.  He did his angry face, run to the corner, "I mad!"

 This girl, however, she loved her bow.  She loved her dress.  She loved having her picture taken.  

 I'm a mom that always says, "pick your battles."  Well, it was a stupid battle, but I picked it.  I wanted him to wear that hat so badly.  We tried to convince him in so many ways....

The marching band

Tractor drivers wear hats

Look, Granny J is wearing it

Gramps likes it

It worked!  

 Well, it worked for 35 seconds to have his picture taken.  Then, the hat was back on the ground :)

the case of the missing ticket

It's the second day of our minivacay.  I'm feeling so high on life.  I'm thrilled that we are all in sync, that we are all enjoying each other's company.  Our pulses have slowed, we aren't on edge... Until.... I think it would be a great idea to give the 5 yer old the tickets to the chocolate factory.  I think she can hold onto them like she "pretty please" asked.  Little did I know, she read K.'s name and handed him his ticket.

We have an appointment to make our own chocolate bars at 9:00 am.  It allows us to finish one more thing, get on the road by 10:30 ish to get the the dogs by 1:00, save the extra day of boarding fees, and then get A. to a birthday party by 3:30.  We wait in line until about 9:20, we are still eating up every last second of vacation.  We get up to turn in our tickets, I have mine, and B.'s,, and A. says, "Here is mine."  uuummmm?!? Where is K.'s ticket?  I look at the ticket attendant with half fear, half angry mom eyes and point to my 3 year old.  We must have misplaced his.  She politely relays to me that she doesn't really care.  We have to use the barcode throughout the entire "experience." Great, the only experience I'm having now is feeling sad that we all can't go, worrying that we won't get done in time, and freaking out as to where the ticket went.  B. runs out to the car, I go ahead and don the beautiful aprons, and hair nets with the kids.  We go through the first section.  A. keeps looking up at me saying that she is sorry.  I keep telling her that it is ok, I just feel sad.  We aren't having fun.

Picking out her chocolate bar

I wish Daddy was here!

 We pick out our chocolate bars and get a text from Daddy... No luck....

Wait, I have it on my phone... Wait, run and get it reprinted... Wait, it's now 10:00 but Daddy is HERE

 Long lines but peace is restored.  I learned my lesson... 5 year old's are not responsible enough for tickets.  A. learned her lesson... 2 year old's are not responsible enough for tickets.

Watching his bar fill with chocolate

The cooling tank

Apparently, B. missed his calling as a factory worker or machine inventor b/c he was amazed throughout the entire tour.  "Look at the little suction cups that bring over the candy bars."  "S., Did you see how fast that was moving?"  He was like a little kid in a candy shop:)

The finished products!

get out more?

We had a speedy little trip to Hershey, PA last weekend.  These 2 kiddos got into the hotel, a mere Comfort Inn, and thought it was the best thing ever.  K. came to get me to show me that they not only had a bath tub, but also... wait for it.... soap in these bags or "doap in keese".  That's right, did you know that hotels provide soap? Apparently, my children are deprived.

The proof 

 The next part, the jumping on the beds, off of chairs, and from 1 bed to another may or may not have had parental involvement and initiation.  I mean, the rules go out the window when in a hotel... apparently.

 At the end of the weekend, after roller coasters, zoo animals, and making their own candy bars, K. still said, "you know why I happy, Momma?  Dey have doap at da hotel."  Anyone want to culture my kids more?  Apparently, they are a little simple minded.

the first race

Have I mentioned before that I love this little town?  Well, I do.  About a week ago, we went to the family fun run at our local high school.  They had a race for each age group starting with the "tot trot."  I mean, how much better could it get, a new T-shirt, free Gatorade, and a medal.

According to A., "if there was a number for my shirt, it would have been the best thing ever."  K. was excited at first, but, his race didn't turn out so well...

The start... The directions were to run to the lion.  K. was on it.

 Wait, there is Cubby, the lion mascot. " Here I am Cubby!!!"

Cubby hugs him and then quickly realizes that K. is supposed to be running to the other lion.  He starts to run.  K. thinks he is running away from him and begins to cry.  I try to join in and finish with him.  But, "that lion is scary."  

There was no way that he was finishing by running under that guy.  Good thing there was no winners right:)

responsibility

This girl is growing up too quickly.  B. was out of town with work earlier this week and she pretty much took on an adult role.  Most of it required, "you are not in charge of your brother."  or, "You can't speak to me like an adult."  But, on Wednesday night, she made dinner all by herself.  Granted, it was leftovers, but she planned what everyone wanted, microwaved, got vitamins, and even set the table.  It was awesome!  

I walked in from picking up the toys outside and she wouldn't even let me in the kitchen.  "Go play with K." she said.  So, I did.  Spaghetti for K., Greek salad for me (microwaved so not so good), and chicken for her.  She even made sure that everyone had vegetables.  

I guess this guy liked it!

grandaddy

Me: I'm Me
Grandaddy: No, I'm me and you are you
Me: No, I'm Me and you are You.
Grandaddy: NO, I"m Me and you are You

This is just one of the many, many little jokes that my grandaddy used to say when we were together.  I have always been told that he is a serious guy.  I have occasionally seen him short tempered.  But, towards me, his only grand daughter, this soldier turned FBI agent turned college professor ha always been s a sweet, gentle, guy.  This visit was no different.  He is now 84 years old with dementia.  I'm not sure that he knew who A. and I were the whole time that we were there visiting.  But, he loved on us just the same.

On this trip, I realized so much how the history of our family helps to define who I am and the values of our family as a whole.  It means that even Grandaddy's story impacts who A. and K. will become. It means that his, and all of our grandparents, are stories that I will eventually tell here from my perspective for my children to pass down.

I'll start with Grandaddy-
Grandaddy grew up in Arkansas.  I don't know much about his parents but I do know that he grew up with one brother and one sister.  Both are still living.  Grandaddy dropped out of high school to join the Navy.  He was in WWII for 2 years.  We do have some copies of letters that he sent home to his mother.  In the letters, he shared some vulnerability.  Some fears of war and seeing friends disappear.  Some fears of home moving on with out him.

When he finally came home, some of his friends were going to college.  Well, why not go too.  The way I understand it, he was drove a friend to school and decided to stay.  The GI bill paid for his degree in education.  He met my mom mom in a college dorm.  He first dated her roommate but then moved on to Mom mom.  I'm not sure how that went over at the beginning, but 65 years later, I'd say it was meant to be. They bought their wedding rings for 5 dollars at Sears & Roebuck and lived in married housing.  When they graduated, they became teachers in Arkansas.  My mother and then her brother Michael were born only 13 months apart and Jamie came 9 years later.

Sometime later, he realized that he needed more income and went to work for the FBI.  I remember him telling me that he had to know the make and model of every car.  That way he could locate criminals.  He chased some big time guys in MN, WI, and VA.  Finally, they paid for him to get his EdD.  So, this high school drop out got his doctorate.  I read his dissertation during one visit.  However, I can say that I have no idea what it was on because I wasn't really interested in the topic.

His third career was as a college professor.  He taught business and education and was pretty tough on grades.  My grandmother talks about students calling during dinner and trying to get grades changed.  I"m pretty sure that he never changed a single grade:)

He retired from there in the 80's.  Since then, they have traveled including annual family trips to condos and 2 trips to England and Greece.  They now live in an assisted living where Mom mom has taken on the caretaker role for Grandaddy.
  
Grandaddy,
Thank you for all of the time that you spent with us while we were kids.  Thank you for instilling the love and importance of education into us.  Thank you for being an example of a person that loved God, America, and your family.  Thank you for being rough and tough with a sweet spot for me:)  I'm me and you are you.  But, I'm me because of you.

I love you!