Mama October

For a whole lot of sports fans, it's the most wonderful time of the year. The NFL season is in full swing; NCAA football has finally gotten into the conference schedules; the NHL dropped the puck on the beginning of the season; and, as with every fall in America for over 100 years, it's the Major League Baseball postseason. The hunt for the title is on.

Unlike most Octobers in my lifetime, this year, the Houston Astros were in the mix! After an electrifying season that defied the predictions of every expert who has a microphone, the Astros won the American League wild card game and advanced to the American League Divisional Series. The last time my 'Stros played this late into the year was the year Caroline was born - ten years ago, the fall of 2005. I spent many evenings in the last month of my maternity leave holding her, sitting in the recliner, and watching the Astros make a run all the way to the World Series.

Now, in October of 2015, the Astros were back! Ten years' worth of changes - I'm still sitting in the recliner, but it's two moves later in our living room in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Caroline is a 5th grader, and she has a little brother who is eight years old. The Astros have never been in the postseason in his lifetime; in fact, they've barely been relevant. The team moved from the National League to the American League in 2013 and over the last ten years, they have a combined record of 709-910, including three seasons where they lost over 100 games. I'm as super of a fan as you'll ever find, but even I had lost interest in the boys of summer. We'd make the annual trek to Minute Maid Park while home in Houston, but other than that, I didn't follow the Astros with any fervor or enthusiasm.

Then this year, the Astros somehow managed to lead the American League West division for almost the entire season. I figured out that even up here in NW Arkansas, I had a cable channel that carried all of the Astros games (thank you, Root Sports!). I began turning the games on in the evenings and turning the volume down low while I read on the couch. I got to know the players' names, and was enchanted by the enthusiasm and exuberance with which the team played. As I was drawn into the drama of an unfolding season, the wins kept piling up. The new playoff format of the one game Wild Card playoff meant the Astros made the postseason and went head to head with the New York Yankees, who they dispatched to earn their way into the ALDS! Next up, the Kansas City Royals!

Wait a minute - Kansas City. Like, just three and a half hours up the road, Kansas City. After the Astros won Game 1, I was keyed up for Game 2. I spent the day after the first game in the office a bit distracted, talking about the series with other baseball fans in the office. As the day went on, I kept thinking about the fact that KC was just up the road - straight up I-49, an easy drive that I'd made before. By early afternoon, I had checked Stub Hub, just to see if there were any tickets. Once I found there were plenty of tickets I thought, may as well see what they cost...

I called Justin. I thought about how much the tickets were, and tried to decide if it was worth it. I got more and more excited just thinking about the possibility of being at the game. There are no guarantees in life, and most certainly not in sports. Would it be another ten years? Would they ever play KC in the postseason again, the closest MLB park to our home? I checked with my boss to see if there would be a problem with my taking a last-minute day off on Friday. And then... I BOUGHT THE TICKETS.

I'm goin' to Kansas City... Kansas City, here I come!!! Not alone, but with my trusty little man by my side, of course - John and I are sports buddies of all kinds, and what an awesome way to spend a Friday in October!

We hopped in the car Friday morning, headed for Kauffman Stadium to yell for our Astros!

An easy drive later, we arrived at the stadium, grateful we'd grabbed pants and jackets! We got there well before the game started, heading into the stadium with our signs and garb shouting our H Town Pride.

The best part about getting to the game so early was the chance to go all the way down to the front row of the stadium where we could watch the Astros take batting practice. Another first for us! We watched as the players belted home runs, and others shagged balls from the outfield. We saw Jose Altuve and Carlos Correa hanging out and A.J. Hinch looking relaxed and confident. I even saw Craig Biggio, an Astro All-Star from my childhood who is also now a Hall of Famer! So cool to have a front row view, even if only for a few minutes.

We grabbed the classic ballpark hot dogs for lunch and settled into our seats - our AMAZING seats - right above third base, about twenty rows up. SWEET!! Soon we were surrounded by fans in Royals blue, but true to their reputation, they were gracious, friendly fans and the stadium was rocking as the umpire yelled, "Play Ball!"

Despite the number of MLB games I've been to in my life, I didn't realize how different a postseason experience would be. Every pitch, every play matters - it is heart pounding excitement from the start, and you don't want to miss any of the action! As batters made contact and balls were popped foul, no matter what direction it headed into the stands, I would put my hands up, look at John and joke, "I got it!" Then in the third inning, a foul ball of of the bat of Colby Rasmus headed for the third base side stands, and I joked again that "I got it!" as it dropped just two rows in front of us! It glanced off a man's arm and bounced into the hands of the fan right in front of us!!! I leaned over and asked if I could get a picture of the ball, and without thinking twice, the man turned around and tossed the ball to John. He gave the Astros foul ball to my son!! That, friends, is the magic of baseball.

Ironically, we were so absorbed in the foul ball we missed the next pitch - which turned out to be a home run!! With the Astros scoring in each of the first three innings, we began to think this could go our way. We were almost alone in our cheers and yelling for the boys in orange, but that didn't mitigate our excitement.

The Royals' comeback, unfortunately, certainly did put a damper on our enthusiasm. I know the Astros can't win every game, and in the postseason with a hostile crowd in an away stadium, it's a tall order to win two in a row. As the game wound down, and it became obvious the 'Stros would head home to Houston with a split, it got harder and harder to be excited in the face of the furious spate of runs scored by the Royals. Being surrounded by fans going crazy with every run scored was like salt in the wound, and as hard as it was for me as a grown up with pretty thick skin, that little eight year old boy had a harder time accepting that his team was going to lose. With the last out in the ninth, as fans around us gave each other high fives and began to file out of the stadium, my sweet little man turned his face to my side to hide his tears of disappointment as I put my arms around him.

It would've been nice to get a win; the series may have turned out differently if they'd kept the lead. Instead of Friday night movie night, we could've been watching the Astros play the Blue Jays in Game 1 of the ALCS. As with so many things, though, the joy for me last Friday wasn't in the game, per se. It was in each and every moment I spent with my son, seizing the moment and what may be a one time opportunity to see our team in a big game. As my dad said, the cost of the tickets was one thing, but this moment - this one day in 365 - was priceless.

New School Year, New School!

It's a cliche, I know, but it's so oft repeated because it's so true: the older you get, the faster it goes. This year has gone by so incredibly quickly; before I knew it, another school year was upon us. Summer fun was done, school supplies were purchased, and lunch menu calendars were taped to the inside of the pantry.

Calendars, plural, because this year, Caroline entered middle school. Middle school!! My big girl is a fifth grader which, here in the Fayetteville Public School District, means middle school. She was so excited to have graduated from Holcomb Elementary; periodically throughout the summer, the subject of school would come up and it was always met with enthusiasm from my eldest child. The primary source of excitement? The locker. Good thing we're focused on what's important.

I remember, though, that it's all important at that age. You hit middle school, and the peer pressure accelerates. The desire to fit in is amplified and multiplied by six - as in, you now have six class periods with slightly different peer groups in each, and the need to adjust throughout the day a new skill to learn. Apparently, the locker decorating is part of the language of fifth grade girls, so we happily provided Caroline with the basics of a dry erase board, magnets and a mirror for her locker. Sorry, but I had to draw a line at the tiny faux chandelier. I'm cool, but I'm not THAT cool.

John, on the other hand, was back to Holcomb Elementary. Third grade is a big year - multiplication, division, cursive handwriting. We were delighted to learn that he has the same teacher Caroline had in third grade, so we know we're in for a great year. The biggest difference for John this year is that he's at school without his big sister. In fact, based on the way they divide the grades between elementary, middle, junior high, and high school, it will be six years before they're back on the same campus, and then as a freshman and junior in high school.

I can't think about that right now.

Instead, I'll focus on the fun they'll have as third and fifth graders, on the things they'll learn, the friends they'll make, and field trips they'll take. I'll try to ask the right questions at the dinner table so that I hear more about their day than it was "fine" and a recap of what was for lunch. So far, so good - two months in and we still look forward to going to school each morning!

The Abbotts come to Arkansas

Haven't had a chance to write much lately as I've had a busy work week and last weekend we had company. Not just any company- the best kind, my sister and her family!

As much as I love my sister - and I love her fiercely - the big attraction here is my super adorable niece Claire. Toddlers are natural comedians, and at two and a half, she's officially entered the "interesting little person" phase.

It was a beautiful weekend as fall weekends in Arkansas tend to be, and we did our best to take advantage of the sunshine. Friday was an at-home day for everyone but me (work!) so it was mostly hanging out, swinging in the back yard, and the midday nap that is a standard part of every toddler's routine. Actually, that was a part of the routine I'd kind of forgotten about - along with the twenty-minutes-to-get-out-the-door part of the routine. Being a toddler parent is hard, y'all, but the good news is that just a few years out of this age, you apparently don't remember the hard parts very clearly!

Around here, Saturday mornings in the fall start with soccer, so we all trooped over to the Lewis Soccer Fields, chairs, blanket, diaper bag, snacks and water bottle in hand. In a quirk of timing, it happened to be A&M/Arkansas football weekend. Susannah is a legit Aggie, and I and my kids have adopted Old Army, and we showed up in our maroon and white despite being smack dab in the heart of Razorback Country. Bold choice!

As precious as Claire is, I think my own kids are pretty darn cute, too! Caroline at the soccer game:

And ohmygoodness, my little man is getting so big. And so handsome.

John has such a tender heart and loves his little cousin. She loves him right back; all weekend long, I heard a lot of "hey John! Hey John!" and "where's John?" from the tiny little toddler voice. He is so patient with her, playing together in the playroom and then out in the sandbox for a while, too.

Their visit last year was on a similarly beautiful weekend which meant enjoying the sunshine. I happened to snap a really great picture of Susannah with all of the kids out on the front lawn last year, one of those iPhone pictures that you look at and wonder how you got so lucky. We tried again, recreating the scene and capturing smiles across the board again this year.

The big event of the day was mini golf - I guess Susannah had mentioned going for a round to John and once you say something like that, you know you have to make it happen! You never know how things will go with a tiny little person, but it ended up being so much fun for everyone.

Pretty sure Claire is a natural!

I was a bit behind as we finished up the round; as I walked toward the 17th hole, I heard John whooping from down below me on the 18th green. Big man got a hole in one on the final hole!! I'm pretty sure it's a universal rule in putt putt - a hole in one on the last hole equals a free round. Kiddo was grinning ear to ear!

There wasn't any big-deal event or major effort to manufacture fun last weekend; the awesome thing about my sister is that when she comes to visit, she's cool with just hanging out. Seeing the kids spend time together, hanging out just talking is totally our kind of fun. Of course, fall weekends are also football weekends, so it didn't hurt that we got to yell for the Aggies from the comfort of the couch. If you were watching, then you know the game went into overtime, with us nearly hyperventilating until the guys in maroon and white finally put it away.

Like most visits, it went by too fast and ended too soon. Sunday afternoon came and Susannah, Justin and Claire headed back home to Houston. Life is super busy, and seems to accelerate with each passing day. Last weekend was a chance to capture those fleeting moments.

Battle of the (waistline) bulge

Disclaimer: I know I'm not fat. In fact, I'm generally pretty happy with my level of fitness and my ability to fit into 98% of the clothes I keep in my closet and drawers. Despite that, at the moment, I'm back to counting calories and trying to shed a few pounds. It isn't about clothing sizes, it isn't about body image. It's all about race weight and getting faster. I correlate my weight directly to my ability to shed a few seconds off of my per mile pace, and I think that's a reasonable way to think about it.

Try not to judge my runner logic. Or even understand it, if it seems wackadoodle to you. It doesn't make sense unless you're a little bit of a crazy runner. Which, seemingly, is my normal. But I digress.

I actually have a thing about weight - and by a thing, I mean, I stress about not talking about it and not thinking about. I spent most of my life with the knowledge that a woman's weight, in many ways, defines her. Oh, nobody ever said it overtly - who would? - but the constant presence of a scale in the house growing up, then the public weigh-ins at West Point and in the Army, to the post-baby morphing of my body all contributed to my low level obsession with weight and body image. Directly contributing to my stress about not thinking about it when I think about it all. the. time.

That is so far from what I want for my children, I have made an effort to go to the opposite end of the spectrum, at least in conversations in our house.

We don't own a scale; we don't talk about weight; we don't call people fat or chubby or pudgy or anything along those lines in our house. We do talk about being healthy and fit, and making good choices with our food quantity and quality. I figure there is enough pressure in society at large; my kids don't need me adding to it.

Kids aren't oblivious, though - quite the opposite. They see and hear everything (except what you need them to, of course), and when I'm counting calories, they notice. The last thing I want is for either of them to think they need to lose weight. So the other day, when John asked me if I was counting calories "again," I nervously answered in the affirmative. His response?

"Oh, do you have another race coming up soon?"

My kid associates counting calories not with weight gain or loss, or with body image issues. He associates it with races and trying to get faster.

Mom for the win.

Friday Feature: Crack the code

This is John's first year as a Cub Scout and things are going swimmingly. He has made some new friends, is looking forward to a big event including BB guns, and is cute as a button in his uniform. 

In last week's meeting, his den talked about encryption and secret messages, and then tried their hands at doing their own. 

Get ready, CIA. John's on the case. 

Friday Feature: pictures are worth one word

So far, 2nd grade has been fantastic for John. He really likes his teacher, and from that flows all good things. Stellar behavior so far this year; enthusiasm for learning; and curiosity for the things ahead. 

They have done several activities this year where they take a word, illustrate it, and write the word below. Both his teacher and I both thought that this week's efforts went above and beyond. 

Friday Feature: chip off the old block

The conversation on the way to school yesterday morning:

Me: "I'd like for you both to make sure you read your goals for this year when you get home. You need to think about making a plan to achieve them because writing goals down is good, but accomplishing them takes work. Remember what you learned at school, begin with the end in mind. And what do you do after you begin with the end in mind?"

John: "Make a plan!"

Me: "That's right!"

John: "How did you know that, Mommy?"

Me: "Because I know a whole lotta things."

John: "But you don't know everything."

Me: "True. But I know a whoooooooole lotta things."

John (giggling): "You don't know that I'm awesome."

Me: "Yes I do."

John: "How do you know that?"

Me: "Because you take after me!"

John: laaaaaughing and laaaaaaughing and laaaaaaaughing


If that isn't a great way to start a day, I would be hard pressed to say what is.

Friday Feature: goals for the school year

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree; to start out this school year, Justin had the kids write out ten goals for the year ahead. Amazingly, the results were almost 100% their ideas, with just a little bit of help from Daddy to articulate them more clearly.

I believe in the power of writing goals down, and in posting them where you can see them frequently. These goals hang on the wall in the kiddos' rooms, so that they can see them every day - and maybe as importantly, I can see them every evening. I'll help them meet their goals where I can, but I'm excited about a year where they might better understand the link between effort and results.

Here's to achieving the goals we've set before us!

Friday Feature: Inspired Artwork

I think our recent trip must have the wheels turning in John's head about all of the different climates out there in our vast, beautiful country. I came across these drawings strategically placed on the coffee table where I would see them:

The Coussoules' Great Western Adventure: Day Three, Last Day in Colorado

Today did not begin well - little man woke up lethargic, complaining of a headache, sore throat, and tummy ache. Uh-oh. The early morning sightseeing plan was on hold; definitely needed to give him more time to rest before trying to get going for the day.

A sick kid was definitely not on the itinerary for the trip; of course, Justin and I both knew before we left that with two straight weeks gone from home, we were going to have to roll with the punches. This was just the first opportunity to do so.

As the ultimate in prepared parents, Justin had packed medicine for the kids - after the first plane trip with Caroline when she was about 8 months old during which she spiked a fever on a layover at Chicago Midway, it's been one of those better-safe-than-sorry things on our trips. Given the close proximity that we all find ourselves in, our secondary concern was that if Caroline came down with the same symptoms, we wouldn't have enough Tylenol or ibuprofen, so it was off to Walmart to get the backups. Say what we will about the homogenization of America, it was awfully nice to know that we would find exactly what we needed right across the street from the hotel.

After a dose of Tylenol, some orange juice, a little bit of oatmeal and several episodes of SpongeBob SquarePants, John felt like he could make a go of it. A joint effort to get all of the bags and coolers back into the van, and we headed south on I-25 for the first stop of the day: Garden of the Gods.

What can you say about the splendor of the American West? How can you truly do it justice with words?

awesome (adj.): inspiring an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear; causing or inducing awe

We spent three hours there, and Little Man hung in like a champ. Close to noon, he started wilting, so we made the call to skip the originally planned baseball game in Denver to head straight to Fort Collins. No need to sit out in the sun and make it worse for John; we'd get to the hotel, try to go to Saturday mass, and then meet up with my cousin Suzanne, flip-flopping our Sunday morning plans.

I always say, everything happens for a reason, and today was absolutely 100% an example of that maxim. While we certainly don't want John to be sick, because of our change in plans, our travel probably was infinitely easier than it would have been with the original plan. On our way up I-25, we saw severe storms all around us, and drove through a little bit of heavy rain between Colorado Springs and Denver. In Denver, the traffic was so thick, we wouldn't have made the beginning of the game even if we had been headed for it. When we arrived in Fort Collins, we made it to the hotel not ten minutes before the heavens opened up, but instead of driving in it, we were safely ensconced in our hotel room.

Despite our best efforts, it didn't work out to go to mass; when we got to the church, it was three-deep standing room only, so we opted out and will try again in the morning. We were a little early to meet my cousin, so we found a wonderful local coffee shop instead. Bonus stop - the latte was amazing, Justin's coffee was top notch, and the kids both enjoyed a hot chocolate as the rain stopped and the weather turned for the better.

The day ended with a personal thrill for me as I got to cross something off of my life list - but more to come on that tomorrow. Tonight, we're going to get to bed early and hoping that between the Tylenol, ibuprofen and TLC, John will be right as rain tomorrow.

Rites of Summer: fun with Fayetteville Parks and Rec

Ah, summer. Lazy days and carefree, unstructured play.

Unless you're a Coussoule kid. 

We don't intend to structure every moment of every day, and there certainly have been hours of Lego playing and American Girl Doll school and riding bikes in the neighborhood. But there have also been camps and scheduled activities to help the kids make the most of the summer break. 

Like a countless number of kids across America, swim lessons were a part of our plans in June. Both kids love the pool, but neither have had formal instruction since Caroline took swim lessons not long after we first moved to Fayetteville. She progressed quickly, and at one point could swim all four strokes with some level of proper form and technique.

John, on the other hand, has been anti-swim lessons every summer we've mentioned them. In a "pick your parenting battles" moment, each time we acquiesced to his disinterest and didn't enroll him anywhere for lessons. This year, though, we didn't ask his opinion - it was time to learn to swim at least the front crawl well enough to pass swim tests. No more not being able to go off the diving board or down the slide; time for John to join the ranks of swimmers.

The easy answer appeared to be the Fayetteville Parks and Rec swim lessons - two weeks, one hour each evening, municipal pool close enough that the back and forth was no problem. I managed to make it to one of the first lessons; we walked in to the newly renovated Wilson Pool house, and both kids were super excited to be in the pool:

I only got to go to a couple of the lessons, but if either of the days I was there were any indication, there was an awful lot of playing, not so much with the actual teaching and learning. The kids loved swim lessons, of course - plenty of time to go off the diving boards and down the slides:

Despite there being far less instruction than we had hoped, both kids had a great time, looking forward to swim lessons each night. As it turned out, John improved enough to swim sufficiently to get to the ladder from the bottom of both the slide and the diving board, so I suppose we should call it a success!

Among the eight camp options offered by the City, the next one we took advantage of was the annual Tennis Camp. The kids have continued to take weekly lessons at a local racquet club, but a week of three hour sessions seemed like too good of an opportunity to miss.

Caroline had grumbled pretty continuously for weeks about tennis camp; she doesn't really look forward to lessons, but Justin and I are both adamant that she play at least one sport. We like having the kids in tennis, because as a lifetime sport, it's something they can hopefully do for years to come. I finally had enough a week or so before camp started with Caroline's complaining - given that I didn't have a single thought as a kid of doing something like tennis camp, her ungrateful whining finally got on my last nerve and I told her to put a sock in it.

Last Sunday night after I put the kids to bed, as I was walking out of Caroline's room, I heard some very quiet sniffling coming from her pillow. I walked back in and found her crying; further questioning revealed that she was really anxious about tennis camp. All of her grumbling had been a facade; she was completely stressed out that she would be the worst one in camp; that all of the other kids would make fun of her; and that she would be embarrassed the whole time. I did my best to reassure her, telling her that as long as she 1) did her best, 2) listened to the coaches, and 3) had fun (the Coussoule Rules), she would be fine. Besides, there would be kids there that might not have ever played before, so she shouldn't worry.

Easy for Mommy to say; all the reassuring in the world, though, could only go so far in the anxious eight year old mind of my little girl. The next morning, I juggled my schedule so that I could do Day One drop off, encouraging both of them - but especially Caroline - as we headed to Wilson Park. I took a few pictures before having to leave, reminding them both to 1-2-3 Do their best, Listen to the coaches, and Have fun, and everything would be just fine.

The fears of teasing and humiliation were blessedly unfounded; we learned from the reports over dinner on the first day that they had both loved camp, and that Caroline was actually one of the "better" players in camp. As the week went on and we heard each day's recap, we realized that like swim lessons, this was more about "fun" and not so much about "learning." The change in Caroline's attitude toward tennis, though, overcame any irritation I may have had that they didn't seem to progress beyond their ability at the start of camp. Besides, it got them active and outside for a few hours each day, and even if it meant a bunch of games, there couldn't be any harm in having a racquet in their hands each day.

The best part of camp was hard to pin down; most days, it was "jail break," one of the games they played. On Friday, I think it was probably snack - who doesn't love a popsicle on a hot July day?

July 4th was the last day of camp, and thanks to the holiday, I was able to go and watch the grand finale.

Tennis Camp Graduates 2014

In true Parks and Rec form, the last day was only an hour and a half; the last ninety minutes were to be in the pool. At this point, I'm over it - I joined in, got some sun, and loved watching the kids have a great time with their friends. When it comes time to go back to school and the question "What did you do this summer?" hangs in the air, my kids will have plenty of options for how to answer.

Friday Feature: A boy and his dog

There is quite a menagerie of stuffed animals in the upstairs playroom, but each of the kiddos has their one special friend. Caroline's Kitty is well-loved and even-better-worn, and John's Scoocoo is no different.

It's one of life's mysteries from where the name "Scoocoo" came; John was only 2 or 3 when it came into his possession, and I'm sure it meant something to him then that was unintelligible to anyone other than himself and his big sister. 

Over the years, and through countless games of school; house; city; and any other amusement the kids could imagine, Scoocoo has been a central figure. It was, therefore, no surprise when John brought me an artwork original that was a portrait of his faithful companion:

I never tire of the prodigious artwork in the house, but even my motherly bias is unnecessary to see that it's not a bad likeness for the real thing:

My boy's best friend. 

Friday Feature: Old School

John has had some trouble lately. Trouble listening, trouble remembering, trouble doing the right thing. So Daddy went old school and John spent several hours the last couple of days writing lines.

Unfortunately, John didn't retain the lesson, so he's spending another day writing four different sets of lines. Let's hope this handwriting exercise also helps improve his memory.

Friday Feature: John's artwork

It's almost the end of the school year, it's Friday, and everyone is tired. Today's feature is short and sweet: here's John's artwork that he brought home yesterday.

It's a turtle. 

Friday Feature: Sharpening the Saw

A foundational program at Holcomb Elementary is the Stephen Covey "The Leader in Me" program, where the 7 Habits are adapted for children. Education today is about so much more than the three Rs; it's a highly complex, confusing, shifting world that our children were born into, and it will only get more complex as the technology revolution accelerates. In my almost 20 years of professional experience, though, what I have seen is that no matter the industry, no matter the location, organizations hunger for leadership. True, authentic, decisive leadership - and there's no time better to start teaching how to be a leader than when children are at their most impressionable and most receptive.


The habits are taught in many ways, reinforced with Friday morning assemblies and classroom conversations. We don't see a lot of it overtly reflected in school work, but last week John brought home an illustration of how he can Sharpen his Saw:

It's wonderful to see how John thinks about this, but nothing tops the written sound effects. "Honk shoe!!"

Friday Feature: Life Cycles

Every night at the dinner table, I'm as predictable as they come - I turn to the kids and ask, "So how was your day?" So predictable, in fact, that Caroline has begun to preempt me with, "Let me guess, you're going to ask how our day was!"

Um, yep. Every night.

Lately, John has told me about the life cycles they've learned about - the butterfly, the frog, and apparently, rocks. I don't recall ever learning about the life cycle of a nonliving thing, but John illustrated it for me at home one night:

Friday Feature: Bunny ears and big kid shoes

While at school for a Family Fun Night a few weeks ago, I stopped to look at the artwork from John's class on the board. They had obviously been learning to tie shoes with shoelaces, that momentous point in a child's life when he graduates from velcro.

Bunny ears, Bunny ears, playing by a tree. Criss-crossed the tree, trying to catch me. Bunny ears, Bunny ears, jumped into the hole, popped out the other side beautiful and bold.

I kind of feel like I should have been the one to teach John how to tie his shoes, but honestly, he's still in velcro. The need hasn't arisen yet. When it does, though, at least he'll have a head start on knowing how to do it, even if he needs a little bit of practice.

He just may not have such fancy shoes.

Friday Feature: Ahoy, matey!!

John told me that on Thursday, they had a substitute teacher for library. Apparently, even librarians get sick once in a while. He was pretty down the mouth about it, because the substitute teacher was one with the reputation of being strict. I didn't get much out of him as far as what book he chose or what they did that day other then it was no fun because of the substitute.

When I saw this, though, it seems like there was more to the story:

 Arrrr, you landlubber!!!

The "mean" teacher apparently read them a story but didn't show them the pictures, so they got to illustrate it themselves. No question it was a pirate story.

Sounds like fun to me!

Two wheels of freedom!

It finally happened - John can ride his bike! They came off months ago, just in time for Mommy to break her ankle and John to lose his bike-balancer for a few months. Then the colder winter weather set in, and we had to wait for spring before we could try again.

It got a little bit tougher after several months without being on a bike, in large part because John seems to have grown another several inches. His bike doesn't really fit him any more, which if you've ever ridden a bike that's too small, you know makes it that much more challenging to get going and stay upright.

Big sister got in on the act; she rode alongside him, then helped him move the pedals a little bit until they were in just the right place to start by himself.

I'm thrilled that John is finally riding his bike; the feeling of freedom that comes with having transportation just a little bit faster than your own two feet is a childhood milestone. For Caroline, it also means Mommy and Daddy might let her go a little farther than just around the block if her little brother comes with her, because there's something less frightening about both of my children riding a couple of blocks down than just my baby girl by herself.

John rides his bike with the same intensity he does just about everything else, and celebrates with the same goofiness of just about everything else, too.

John has joined the big boy club now - I see many hours of summer fun ahead, tearing up the sidewalks in our neighborhood basking in the freedom that comes with riding a bike.

Even the Tooth Fairy got hit by the bad weather

Big news again - John lost a front tooth on Monday. I think of the front teeth as much bigger deals than the other teeth. Maybe because they're more obvious; maybe because there's a song about them; maybe because when the grown up teeth come in, they don't quite seem to fit the little person's face so I miss those tiny front teeth a little more than the others.

Regardless, lost teeth = payday for most kids, and John is no exception. Except for when the Tooth Fairy doesn't arrive the first night... and then again the second night. By Wednesday morning when the tooth pillow still held the tooth and was conspicuous in its lack of holding money, there was one very disappointed little boy that appeared downstairs ready for school.

And one set of parents who felt really, really badly about that Tooth Fairy not showing up. I asked John if maybe he thought she had to go to the bank because she ran out of money - it got a laugh, but that was short lived. Daddy tried to reason that maybe she had a hard time getting here because the weather has been so bad. I mean, if the airlines can't get in and out of Arkansas, maybe the Tooth Fairy couldn't, either.

Turns out Daddy was closer than Mommy, because when John came bouncing downstairs this morning, he held this in his hand:

Who knew that snowball season was also high season for lost teeth? But the note wasn't the best part of it for John. Maybe the Tooth Fairy felt guilty, but she came through in the end.

When you're 6 years old, $5 is big money. The bar has been raised, Tooth Fairy - unless you can explain that $5 in a note next time, too.