Back.

Let's see if I can remember how to do this. I just logged into blogspot and typed in the wrong password if that tells you anything. Heh.

Three school boys. Good start. No, great start. Turns out Chase isn't weepy in school like he can be at home sometimes. Guess it's easier to find your place in a sea of five year olds who may or may not overpower or get more attention than you. He did cry once the first week after I asked him if he was doing a good job following all of the rules. He quickly burst into a full-blown sob and said, "There's one rule that I just can't remember to follow, Mom." I nervously inquired which rule that was. After crying for what seemed like forever, he finally took a breath long enough to admit, "I'm a horrible kid. I just can't remember to push my chair in every time."

That, I can handle, Chaser.

That kid is starting to read, and you can see the elation in his eyes. I can't get enough of it, and he can't get enough of my reaction. He read a short poem to me the other day, and when I limited my praise to just a (huge) smile and a quick, "Wow, great job, Bud!", he responded with, "Aren't you going to jump up and down and clap and scream really loud for like thirty-five seconds or something??"

Uh... let me wash the raw chicken goo off of my hands, then of course I will.

And here's another neat trick: These two miss each other while Chase is at school. How that is possible in the quickest three hours of our lives I'll never know, but it's true. Enough to embrace when we pick Chase up from school, and play their little hearts out from the minute we get home until nap time. No TV needed (not even once in the last three weeks), rarely a fight, and lots of "Come on, this way Girl..." to direct their play.

As for my three hours alone with just Tess everyday? We are so NOT efficient. We light candles, drink hot chai (with lots of whip cream on hers), chat with neighbors who are out walking their dogs, dance to music in the kitchen, and fold lots and lots of laundry together.

And occasionally eat pickles.

She's killer at folding washcloths, even if the tags aren't tucked in and they're not all stacked facing the same direction. And now, all these years (and four kids, which have to be a lot like therapy) later, I don't even fix them before putting them away. That's progress, people.

Oh, and we started attending an aerobics class. I won't go on and on like we're pros or anything since we're totally the new chicks on the block, but hey, it's something. You're talking to the girl who doesn't exercise. Ever. And my sad, sore muscles are proof. Tess comes along to play in the gym during the hour long (free taught by my friend at her church) class, which will totally take the place of any gymnastics or dance class I had considered putting her in before now. She jumps and dances and copies the moves (hopefully the instructor's and not my sorry version), and giggles at me when I look silly.

Which is practically the whole sixty minutes.

My facebook status this week pretty much sums it up: "Here I thought my lack of stylish workout clothes would be what made me stand out at aerobics this morning. It all worked out... everyone surely was so distracted by my lack of coordination that they never even noticed my outfit. Sweet." :)

As for the older boys, they've got the school routine down. Except for Trey, maybe, who occasionally forgets to listen to instructions fully and has to start over because he's too excited to get his work done as fast as humanly-eight-year-old-boy-possible.

Not because he loves doing homework, necessarily. It's all just a means to an end for his incredibly packed social agenda. Sadly (or not so sadly??), I can relate, buddy. Reading comprehension... who has time for it when there are people to see and things to do? But don't challenge him to a face-off in mental math, 'cause he'll beat you every time.

And Jack? Once upon a time, the Lord knew that I'd have four kids and the four o'clock hour would be completely nut-so in our house, so He gave me a boy who just gets it done. No instruction or motivation needed, no jumping up and down in a cheering frenzy required, just a signature at the bottom of his assignment book saying he's completed every last bit. Now you can go read happily for hours on end, my friend.

School happened. And so did Fall. A new nephew, a wedding, AWANA, flag football, a moms/school prayer group, ladies' bible study, a new ten year old, school fundraiser, multiple out-of-town grandparent visits, random ministries, plus a whole lot more.

Life is full.

But it's that good kind of full.

(Unless it's flag football in the rain. We baseball people aren't used to playing sports in the rain, you know...)

New adventures for all...

The day started out on a happy note. Everyone was up early, beaming with excitement, more than ready for the first day of school. Chase was especially pumped to ride the bus for the first time, and reminded me over and over that he definitely wouldn't be tired enough for a nap after putting in his half-day. Tess hadn't grasped the fact that all three boys would soon be off on their own separate adventures, leaving her to invent a very new adventure of her own. It didn't take long for her to realize that the morning somehow wasn't about her. Major depression over a request for her to step out of the picture so I could get some shots of the brand new Kindergartner all by himself. The limp body act on the ground no longer sways me either, I'm happy to report. If it's comfortable down there, you go for it. I'm pretty sure you won't stay there for long. Ah, there's that shot I was looking for. He's big and not nervous one bit, although he despises the pig name tag he's required to wear for the first week. "Pig name tags are for babies," he announces. "Kindergartners follow instructions," I announce right back. A sure sign he's the third child: he soaks up photo shoots and thinks of a thousand poses all on his own with his new dino backpack as his only prop. He's so excited he can hardly stand it. He's not thinking about whether he'll find his way to his classroom all on his own in a brand new place, but I sure am. I'm thinking of that, while trying to keep my emotions in check as I take in every sweet expression he makes while he tells me what he thinks his day will hold.

Third, Fourth and Kindergarten boys. How in the world can three boys have such different looks and personalities and come from the same two parents? Never mind, I don't want to explain the intricacies of that phenomenon to any boy anytime soon. Carry on...

Before heading to the bus stop, Daddy pulls the big boys aside to make sure they know to look after their little brother at school. They get it. At least we hope they get it, instead of choosing to tackle each other in the hallways whenever they cross paths, which might be the more natural inclination. And then we know, when Chase later told us that Trey had his arm around Chase's backpack the minute they stepped off the bus until they reached the right Kindergarten classroom. Thanks, God. I needed that.

Ok, the girl is allowed in one more shot. No smile, but she's slowly on her way to recovery. Girl drama or just duke it out like the boys? It's a toss-up, but I'm leaning towards just getting it over with.

It's been a whole four days, and we're still walking over to the bus stop to hang out and wait with the school kids. Not because the boys need us, of course. They'll kick us out eventually, and then we'll have to just hang out in our own driveway and wave until we can no longer see the bus over the top of the hill. Every day for 180 days. Even in the snow. Yes, Tyler, I know you think that's crazy, and I'm ok with that. I waited and waited for him to look back for reassurance, but he never did. I really should be thankful for his independence and confidence, shouldn't I? Great qualities to have. Yes they are... Tess waves to the boys and confirms her feelings by telling her neighbor buddy that she can't ever ride the bus, and he's not ever going to either. Thank goodness he puts up with her nonsense.

Then she gets it. She's the only one left, and that just might not be a bad thing. I ask her what she wants to do (her pick the first day, my pick the rest...). Her first request is to paint her fingernails and toenails. I am pleased, and pleasantly surprised that it is a somewhat girly activity. So we head to the bathroom and find the pinkest pink polish we can find.

I feel like we might be onto something. An entire morning full of mom and daughter fun. Girl stuff. Tender moments. Memory making, just the two of us. Her second request? Ahem. To the kitchen for a snack of pickles. At nine o'clock in the morning. Not exactly scrapbook worthy, but I can think of worse things I suppose. Pickles for my girlie it is. Ten of them, to be exact. Her third request? She let out a little giggle and whispered....

"Let's wrestle."

Nine weeks down...

...and I'm out twelve bucks for all A's for these two school boys. They don't get an allowance or money for chores, but for lost teeth and all A's on their report cards...

...you bet yer bottom dollar.

Oh, and don't forget the occasional slip of a dollar bill from Aunt Steph for apparently no reason at all. I tell her to save her money for her own kids, but she never listens. She makes me look bad.

And yes, if you must know, I cried at both conferences. I'm really not this unstable. I am just overwhelmed at the goodness of God. I'm amazed that even when a boy is silly and social and forgets to bring his homework home from time to time, he can still sit still long enough to open his mind and earn all A's. And I'm passionate about a boy who had some social bumps in the road last year, who has worked his tail off and has trusted God daily to help him become respectful, humble and full of integrity in the classroom.

And then I lost it when Trey's teacher told me about her son who died in a car accident when he was 15. She reminisced about her boy for a moment, and I grabbed her hand and we both had a good cry. And then I decided not to get on Trey so much for forgetting his homework a couple of times.

Conferences are only fifteen minutes a piece. How I packed this much emotion into 30 minutes I'll never know. But if you're a mom, you know. Well, as much as I know, anyway.

They captivate us. They get into our hearts and change us and challenge us. They make us proud and keep us humble. They remind us what it's like to have childlike faith, and then sometimes they have more faith than we do. They're honest to a fault, if there was such a thing.

I am a proud momma this week. Not because they brought home all A's. But because their teachers see a difference in them. How I pray that they see a difference in all of us. Our mission this school year? To be a family who stands out for Christ. Not to be perfect, because that'll never happen, but to care about the things that really matter.

Loving God and loving people. It never gets old.

My two school boys...

Jack Tyler has waited for 1st Grade his whole life it seems. Finally, lunch at Battle Ground Elementary, here we come! This kid can't get on to the next thing fast enough. He was talking about first grade half-way through his Kindergarten year, and now has thoughts of 2nd Grade swirling in his head! I'm having a really hard time letting Jack go to school all day. This is new for me. I've kissed his sweet pink cheeks so much in the last three days that he's getting a little tired of it. There's no question that this boy will succeed this year academically, but my prayer for him is that he would love people well this year. He already missed out on an M&M (and a trip with Mom to get his new shoes) for not waiting his turn in class. He was devastated. He knows a lot of facts in that crazy smart head of his, but I have a feeling that this year he'll learn even more about life.

Trey just started 1/2 day Kindergarten, which puts him on the bus at 7:45am, and at school until I pick him up at 11:30am. Trey is nonstop excited about life, so we'll see how well he sits still to learn (he admitted to me today that he got his first "warning" for talking too much. I knew this was coming.) It's actually a bit refreshing to watch his laid-back personality about the whole thing. I struggled as I watched him pack up his backpack by shoving, squishing and bending every supply on it's way in (For real, Trey, the Kleenex box is not going to fit!). Tyler reminded me what a nice change that was from our firstborn boy who has to have everything just-so, or it's the end of the world! Trey has learned something new in school already this week. He announced proudly at supper last night, "You know Mom, in the library you have to put all the books back on the shelf with the skulls facing out." I had to think for a minute and said, "Trey, don't you mean their spines?"

I'm missing these two lately. I'm the mom who wishes summer would never end. Especially a summer that went way too fast with a newborn in the house. And now that school has started, I can't get enough of these two rotten, smiling faces. As the bus pulled away that first morning, Jack pasted his face to the window and waved until the bus cleared the hill and I couldn't see him any more. Trey never looked up once... he was too busy giggling with his new friend next to him in the front seat. Typical.

First day of school -- 8/12/08

School's back in session today. Jack can't wait to try school lunch. Trey just wants to ride the bus!