pushing the limit here

Just to follow-up on the last blog, we have decided that kindergarten is perhaps too soon to kick my daughter out of the nest.  Sure, we may be able to nearly see the school from our house, but the kindergarten teacher said she definitely wouldn’t let kids walk to school by themselves that young.  (darn it!)

Lately I’ve been trying to get myself in shape.  My old baby bump is really starting to drive me crazy. I cringe every time my kids’ heads bump my bump.  They even say, “Mommy, you have a big tummy.”  Or worse, “Mommy you have a baby in your tummy.”  (Ouch)  So, I’ve decided to push myself out of the 5k fun-runs into the more challenging 10k’s.  That is 6.2 miles for the U.S. folks and double the amount of running I had been doing for the non-math majors.

Last weekend I did one on a whim and decided that I DEFINITELY wasn’t a distance runner.  I have excercise ADD.  I tend to lose interest in whatever I’m doing after a while, and start thinking about all the things I could be doing instead – like eating.  After that first 10k experience, I spent the next week whining about how I can’t do it again because I’m just too tired and I might just die.  I didn’t quite get the amount of sympathy from my family I would have liked, so, not being one to ever back down from a challenge, I got up this morning and went.  Yes, all alone again I hit the hot pavement in the middle of July.  I figured I would just listen to my music and pretend I was all alone.

But, this race turned out to be quite unexpected.  It started out about the same as always.  Me, the running “nerd,” standing all alone in the parking lot in an old cotton race shirt that I grabbed in the dark and wearing my “air traffic controller” headphones.  I am, as usual, surrounded by the beautiful people of the world whose kids don’t pat their tummies as they pass by.  I have taken to passing time by watching and judging who would beat me based on BMI, music player technology, and quality of running clothes.  I feel that the less clothes a runner has on, the more likely they are to beat me. 

Then, it was time to start.  After a 10 minute lecture on the rules, having a good time, and drinking lots of water, we began.  I was already sweating from standing on the hot asphalt during the lecture, so I knew it would be a hot race.  After a while, the running crowd began to thin out as the “beautiful people” strided out ahead.  But there was some confusion.  Up ahead, I saw a pack of people walking towards me.  Everyone just stopped running and turned around and began to walk the other way.  Yes, Almost 8 minutes into the race, everyone began to realize they were running the wrong way!  What?!  The wrong way for almost a mile!?  I can barely finish much less add an extra TWO miles on!

Everyone walked back in utter confusion. Some people were angry, some were laughing, I was panicking.  (Seriously, I don’t run “warm up miles” like real runners)  They were going to restart the race for people who wanted to know their time and who were thinking of placing high.  But, if you didn’t want to wait again for another start, you could just start running the right way.  I decided that I was already dripping with sweat and almost 15 minutes into a run, I would just keep going.  No sense in further embarrassing myself amongst beautiful people again! 

So, I ran mostly by myself.  It actually wasn’t bad, or as bad as I thought it was going to be.  But, on the 4th mile, my mp3 player’s battery died.  It was also at that time when the “beautiful people” started catching up to me.  They had restarted the race and I had about a 15 minute head start on them.  They started to stride by me slowly at first.  But, by the end of the race, I was smack in the middle of the real runners. 

Since the whole race was completely confusing and not electronically timed, I have no idea what my time was or would have been, but I do know that I finished the race ahead of almost everyone!  (ok, I had a big head start)  The official timer said 44 minutes when I passed the finish line.  My watch said I had been running for 1 hour and 15 minutes total.  So, over all it was a successful day.  I ran almost 8 miles instead of 6.2 and I got to pretend I was one of the beautiful people for just a brief moment.  Overall, it was a good day where I got to do things I’ve never done before!  Oh, and I rewarded myself with about a million chip-ahoys.  I figured I deserved it!

 

A Latch-key kid vs. the helicopter parent

Ok, so my blogging has been less than regular.  Honestly, that is because I am in the midst of my actually blogging “job.”  And also because we have been really busy this summer with activities and running into each other at home.

This summer, my daughter is going to a kindergarten “readiness” class at the neighborhood school that she will be attending next year.  The school itself is about three or four blocks away from our house.  It is a straight shot, but there is one busy street that she would need to cross.  There is a crossing guard during the school year so she would be safe.  But, she is only 5 years old.  Is that too young to walk to school by herself?

My husband and I are debating this question.  He says that she probably is too young.  I am on the fence – mostly because I’m lazy in the morning.  Sometimes my fantasies of making breakfast and booting kids out the door while I’m still in my jammies get the best of me!  You know, like the mom in “The Christmas Story.” 

But if she walks HOME by herself and we are still at work (years down the line), a word creeps into my head that I haven’t heard in a long time.  She would be a “latch-key” kid.  I am not sure on the exact definition of that word, but I know it was thrown around a lot in the 80′s when people were talking about the breakdown of family values and rising crime rates.  I think it means a kid who carries around a house key, lets themself into the house, and proceeds to wreak havoc on their parent’s home.  Then, the weary guardians come home and proceed to stick them in front of awful shows like ”Beavis and Butthead” until they go to bed.  That’s just a loose interpretation, but it’s the best I can figure.

I know that my mom stayed home with us when we were kids and was always there to see us on and off the bus after school (whether we liked it or not).  My husband’s mom was there for him as well.  But, I happen to work (mostly so I can pay off my tuition bills I acquired to get the job in the first place).  So, would I be a substandard mom if I don’t greet my children after school with milk and healthy snacks? 

When I was growing up, the word “latchkey kid” was muttered under the breaths of parents whenever a child of working parents acted up.  These upstanding parents would virtually spit the word out as if it were dirty.  My mom would never allow us to fall to such a social evil.  Let yourself into an empty house?  I think not!  Of course this is from the woman who would drop us off at the public swimming pool or the public library for hours at a time unsupervised so she could go grocery shopping.  But hey, at least we weren’t home alone!

 Maybe she and all the other parents were on to something.  Although she never kept anything harder than vanilla extract in the house, she usually did have a stocked cookie jar.  Had she not been home, I probably would have been a childhood obesity statistic.  (another social evil caused by the latchkey kid)  So I guess the question stands.  Do my kids get to walk to and from school alone and at what age?  And will I ever be able to work full time again?  Do I need to get a job closer to my kids? 

These questions lead me to my own evil “spit-on-the-ground” catch-phrase: the “helicopter parent.”   The helicopter parent is a term my generation spits out when we see parents constantly “hovering” over their darling children.    You know, the kind of parent at the playground you see going up and down the slide with their 3-year-old for fear they may miss a step.  (That’s what stitches are for people!)    Here’s what I figure.  Since most of the helicopter parents were the latchkey kids of yesteryear, I’m probably naive enough to let the kids walk alone.  However, given my obvious parenting shortfalls, I have a feeling I’ll be in my parka walking to school come January with my rotor blades in full swing!

 

Happy Birthday Grace!

My little girl turned 5 years old last week!  I can’t explain it, but I feel like she’s made a huge transformation from “preschooler” to, well, a big girl overnight!  Maybe it’s the summer that has made her limbs seem to be a bit longer in shorts and skirts.  Or maybe it’s her larger vocabulary.  “Mom, I already know that!” and “I don’t take naps anymore because I’m 5 years old!”  Watching her run like the wind way ahead of me makes me feel like she’s about to really take off.  And she is.  She’s starting kindergarten next fall and I won’t see her all day.   This is a moment I have prayed for and dreaded for a very long time. 

But, back to the real stuff she’s interested in like her birthday party.  As mentioned in earlier posts, birthday parties seem to be a huge deal to this age group.  Unless, of course, you are me in which case birthdays are a huge deal every year (hint, hint).  So, Grace has been informing me for about a month on some of the items she wants and desires at her party.  Fortunately, they change daily, so I don’t have to listen closely.  We (I) decided she would have an “enchanted forest” party this year to capitalize on all of her little girl fantasies all at once.  Unicorns, fairies, horses, magic, girls that actually look like barbies, whatever.  It’s all there.  Plus, we had the party at a park, so we didn’t have to use decorations.  Catching on now on how this is all easier on me?

Her birthday party turned out to be the one day in a series of 5 days where it didn’t rain.  It looked like it was going to, but didn’t.  I drew upon my experiences as a young member of the Winkels family (my mom’s side) and planned for fun get-together games.  Like a true Winkel, I made the grown-ups participate in the water relay game.  Essentially, you have to move water from a bucket to another vessel (a flower-petal shaped plastic bowl) using only a long-handled ladle as fast as you can without spilling any water.  It worked well and I even got grandma and grandpa up to participate. 

Then, Pat began his famous “scavenger hunt” story.  The Coup de Gras of the party.  He prepped by hiding a bunch of toys purchased from goodwill (beany babies, action figures, magic wands, whistles, and whatever else I could find) in the trees and grass at the edge of the park.  Then, drawing from inspiration from my father, he made up a wild and crazy story about how each item got lost in the woods.  Then, he made the kids go find them.  He did infuse his own nerdy nature in a few ways.  First, he used a power point to illustrate his story, and second, his story began with Obama invoking the kids to help him find the “evil BP wizard who spilled all the oil.”  The kids ate it up and got to keep whatever they found.  The parents rolled their eyes, but changed their attitude when the kids played happily with their new treasures for the next two hours! 

Overall, it was a really fun day and Grace was happy with all the really cool swag she scored.  She got lots of art stuff, outdoor stuff, and even a digital camera.  I was skeptical of the camera at first, but it turns out to be her favorite thing from her party.  She has taken about a million pictures and had approximately 0 turn out.  The only down side is the fact that she makes us all sit and pose while she is taking our picture…for about an hour!  She is her father’s daughter!

I included pictures of the small, family birthday we had prior to the big birthday party.  The other pictures are on another camera.  Here are pictures of Grace and my parents before they took her and Sevie to the “Day out With Thomas” at the National Railroad Museum.  Oh, and the cake is my first layer cake.  A very sweet snickerdoodle cake!

 

4 adults+4 preschoolers+1 canoe = awesome!

This memorial Day, we did something surprisingly fun.  I told my husband I wanted to try canoeing with our 3 and 4-year-old kids.  So, he enlisted the help of some canoeing friends and the day was set.  We decided to go down the Red River in Shawano, WI in one very large canoe.  I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but everyone had a super good time. 

Ok, with the ratio of adults to kids, and the fact that the weather was perfect, there were no bugs or set mealtimes, it was a slam-dunk.  We found the rock-bottom shallow river to be a perfect playground for all of us!  There were endless crayfish, trout and suckers in the water to keep everyone entertained.  We challenged our comfort levels by sliding down rapids. 

Our path took us by several waterfalls which afforded the kids the opportunity to get out and walk or swim.  It also took us by an old abandoned monastery with an incredible view.  We stopped to eat lunch in an area where the kids could barely stay in one place to eat.  There was just so much to do and look at!  The dragonflies were molting literally before our eyes!  With two science teachers and two moms, that was a real treat!  (ok, more like creepy, but cool)

In the end, we made it to a waterfall and swimming hole which turned out to be the local hang out for everyone in the entire area.  It was really fun.  We only made it about 3 miles total in the canoe.  But, the trip took all day.  I can’t thank our friends enough for taking us on such a great trip!  We are all still talking about the cool and brave things we did!  The car ride home was incredibly quiet and we couldn’t be happier!

 

Grandma look what I can do!!!

I want to dedicate this post to Grandma Koss since it is her birthday this memorial day weekend.  We have been having a blast these last few weeks.  The early summer weather is awesome for the kids and I since we are able to get outside and play all day.  Unfortunately, daddy isn’t fond of the heat.  He was a really good sport and jumped into our kiddie pool with the kids one day after work.   That was a big step in the right direction! 

Sevie wanted to show the world that he rides nothing but a “big boy bike.”  And Grace wanted to make sure I got a picture of her swimming with her whole body in the water!  She loves swimming lessons and swimming so much!  I am really enjoying how my flowers are turning out.  They are in various states of bloom and every day is turning out to be a science lesson for the kids.  Unfortunately, Grace has to have dissection in every lesson.  Many flowers died in the name of science this year!  But, here are some pictures of our back yard adventures as of May!  Happy Birthday Grandma Koss!

 

It’s always a party here!

Well, I got my first born through two successful years of preschool and I can honestly say, we both learned quite a bit.  She learned letters, numbers, songs, and a few choice words and actions I wish she would not have.  And I got to learn the subtle social hierarchy of preschool/school aged parenthood.

Every day before and after my daughter’s preschool, parents have to form a line outside of the door in single file and wait for the teacher to call their child’s name.  (Meeting the teacher at the door when it is your turn is a whole other blog in itself.  I’ve never got sent to the principal’s office at school, but it’s like getting sent there every day.)   It is in that line where play groups are formed, gossip is whispered, and small talk is made.  Never before have I felt more like I did back when I was in school.  You start to fill with self-doubt and wonder where you stand in the line of social status.  Fortunately, you leave the line after about 20 minutes and get back to reality.  But still, you can’t help but feeling a bit of deja vu.

Perhaps the most tangible expression of your child’s social standing is when the birthday party invitations get handed out.  Some parents are really good and give one out to every child ceremoniously.  Some parents try really hard to be discrete by trying to hand them to other parents on the sly so the uninvited won’t be offended.  But, some parents are totally clueless and hand only a few of them out in front of everyone.  Then, the kids who get invited wave the invites in front of the kids who weren’t.  These are 5-year-olds and, yes, my daughter got quite a few invites waved in her face throughout the year. 

For some reason, my daughter didn’t feel bad a bit about not getting invited to parties.  She took it like a champ.  “That’s cool, have fun at the party.  I’m just going to hang with my mom and dad.”  Although I didn’t say anything, I mentally had to pick up the pieces of my heart over and over.  Maybe because I teach high schoolers and I regularly see the open wounds of adolescence still healing in most of my students.  Some of them were nearly fatal. 

Finally, she was invited to her first birthday party… and she didn’t want to go.  Being a good mom, I made her anyway.  She didn’t want to go because it was a boy’s birthday party and she didn’t believe she would have anything to play with.  But, (surprise, surprise) she went, she loved it, and she found out that ”Star Wars” is pretty cool.  Princess Leia is a beautiful princess who is really tough and fights all the bad guys herself to save the kingdom!  (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!)

So, now apparently everyone in her class was born within 2 weeks of each other because she had two birthday parties this week alone.  She likes going, but I secretly wish I were as mature as her about it.  She loves her friends and loves her school.  And has absolutely no hang ups either way about going or not going to birthday parties.  In fact, when kids are mean to her and say “you can’t go to my birthday” or “you can’t play with me” she just says “she was being a bully and I’m not going to be like that.”  I have to take a few lessons from her perhaps!  She’s got 13 years of formal education left and we’ve only just begun!

 

Happy Birthday to Me!!

Many people have been asking me why I stopped writing in my blog.  I stopped writing because the Google people started to read it and thought I had such talent that they offered me a crazy amount of money to write them great and funny blogs.  What!?  You’ve never read them?!  That’s probably because it’s a very top-secret operation which kept me so busy it was simply impossible for me to keep up with this blog.  Ok, that’s not true.  I am just lazy.  Plus I kept getting reprimanded by my superiors for being to sassy.  I figured, why write if I can’t be sassy?  That is the point, after all!? 

But, today is my 33rd birthday.  I had a hard time turning thirty, and now as I add larger numbers to the back of the first “3,” I look more and more regularly for grey hairs and wrinkles.  I heard that 33 is the “ideal age.”  Apparently it’s the age when Jesus died.  It’s supposedly the prime of life.  So far, I’m not sold on that one as I notice new and different ways my body is rebelling against me and my bad habits.    Although lots of things have happened since my last post, a notable thing was that my husband turned 40.  So, as I age before most of my siblings, I am always the youngest in his!  I am starting to learn it only means I’m the last one pushing the wheelchairs, though!  (with age comes wisdom!)

Anyway, I’ll try to keep you posted on my sassy stories. But for now, I have to start celebrating my special day.  As a mom of young children, that means planning your own party, buying your own gifts, hanging up the decorations, and baking your own cake!  Whew!  I’m tired already!  Good thing I’m in the prime of my life!

 

Just a little off the top

Yesterday, one of my seniors went through a small transformation.  Since he is graduating early and headed off to the Air Force, he agreed to have his head ceremoniously shaved in front of his classmates and peers.  It was a huge change for this guy. As I got to know him more this year, it turns out he’s quite a bit more than meets the eye.  In addition to putting lots of time, effort, and product into his hair and make-up in the morning, he is also an avid hunter, held mostly conservative views on issues, and pretty good student.  

Another surprise was that he was graduating early and joining the Air Force.  This is a direction that was quite unexpected twist.  So, overall, I will miss him and was glad to get to know him.  I hope him well in the future and have no doubts that whatever life holds, he will be ok.  So, how did I find myself shaving his head yesterday in class?  Well, everyday (pretty much) I would ask him if he would like to me to take a scissors to his hair so he could see.  I generously offered to do it free of charge! So, last week he informed me that he would let me shave his head before he graduated since he had to do it anyway.  To his credit, he was a really good sport.  It was a huge  and he held it together pretty well.  

before

after

before

after

 

jammie party

In another attempt to beat the winter blues, we invited some friends over to the house last weekend for a pizza night and jammie party.  My husband carpools to work every morning with Greg who also teaches in the district.  They have two boys the same age as our kids.  We made pizza, ate lots of food, and played way past the kids’ bedtime.  When the altercation ratio increased to a level unacceptable to the chatting adults, we got the kids into their p.j.’s.  They all cuddled on an old mattress (used for jumping on usually) in the living room and watched “Madagascar 2.” 

It was really a fun evening for the Koss family.  The kids stayed up until they couldn’t stand it any more.  And the adults got to close the french doors and talk “big people talk” and drink “big people drinks!”  What a treat!  The next day my son was still snoring at almost 9:00!  (unfortunately his sister wakes up at 6 no matter what!)

But, this fun night really has illustrated for me a nagging feeling that has crept over me for quite some time.  Our family is really coming up on a major watershed year.  Now is the time to register kids for kindergarten and for open enrollment.  Where are we going to send Grace?  Will she go to her neighborhood school or ride to school with us in the morning?

Which brings up the next big decision.  Will I finally go back to work full-time next year?  I have officially worked longer part-time than full-time.  I have never worked full-time since having kids.  My day is so packed right now, I don’t even know what full-time looks like!  But, I may have to face reality that this may be my last semester being a morning stay-at-home mommy!  I mourn this change every single day.  I love my job, but is my perfect situation too good to be true?  Do I actually have to start contributing to our savings account?

After the jammie party, it really brought the value of my neighborhood and community into perspective for me.  I love my house.  I love living in Appleton.  I love my friends whose houses have the same old creeks and drafts and long history that ours has.  A place where you don’t get interrogated like a space alien for only having one car (in Greenville not only do you need at least two, you should also have a boat, camper, or ATV sitting in your third garage stall!). 

But, we work in that place.  We are going to send our children to school in that place.  I suppose we have to move there as well.  I just have a hard time giving up everything I love to move to a community where everything is just…typical.  Furthermore, I haven’t heard anything particularly positive about the Greenville/Hortonville area other than it is where all the growth is happening. 

Change is always inevitable.  But, this next semester will be bittersweet for me.  My life is going to change one way or another.  Change may not be bad, but right now, it just seems scary.

 

Becoming my mother

Lately, I’ve been feeling…well…like a mom.  I know that I’ve been a mom for over 4 years, but I’ve never felt so mom-like as I do now.  I guess it has everything to do with perception since memories of my mom began with her involve one major task: food prep.  Apparently, once kids reach a certain age, making meals becomes a huge part of your life.  So, planning, preparing and cleaning up after meals has claimed a great majority of my time and energy!  A shockingly large amount of time and energy to be exact! 

How did it sneak up on me like that?  I guess it’s because your eating habits don’t necessarily change until your kids start calling you out on your eating indiscretions.  (Mom!!! Daddy had a cookie before supper, can I have one too?!!)  Babies can be fed (and are) at any time of the day, so mealtimes are virtually irrelevant for them.  Toddlers take about 5 seconds to feed, or can be stuck in a high chair to eat while you prepare the “real meal” for big people.  (Remember those meals?  Exotic dishes with actual flavor in them?) But, preschoolers need to be taught proper eating habits.  Thus, we must all sit down to eat a healthy, balanced meal that includes all the food groups.

And so, my life seems to go from one meal to the next.  My mom got around the constant food prep for a family of 9 by making food in mass quantities.  Usually these dishes were a basic combination of approximately 10 lbs of ground beef and tons of cream of mushroom soup.  She considered onions and mushrooms to be a part of the veggie group, so they were thrown into every hot dish.  And that’s what we ate – all week.  I believe this is where I developed my extreme adversity to “left-overs.”  Because of my “left-over” phobia, I do everything I can to avoid subjecting myself to the massive amounts of goulash, strogenoffs, hot dishes, and bean dishes I had to consume as a kid.  Fortunately, my husband loves leftovers and never complains! 

Thus meal times at my house are a constant struggle for creativity.  My daughter only eats foods she can recognize in their original state like fresh fruits and veggies, my son likes pure carbs or anything that has an drab off-white color, and my husband will eat anything but turns up his nose at pre-processed meals like hamburger helper.  I, on the other hand, would love to just pour myself a bowl of cereal for a meal and call it a day.  So planning and preparing 3 meals a day the whole family has become my greatest task.  As I stand hour after hour in the kitchen racking my brain for new meal ideas, or cleaning up the dishes for the millionth time, I start to wonder, how did I become my mother?