The Gretch Goes To School

This is the face Gretchen now makes every time I pull out the camera. It's a slightly-smiling grimace accompanied by a scream and arm-raise with the intent of communicating that I should immediatly:
1. pick her up, and
2. give her the camera.



Here's the same sentiment with different cropping.



We know what happened LAST TIME I gave her the camera. She is not pleased when I frustrate her plans. It helps to lower her to a carpeted floor and walk away while she writhes and screams.

On Thursday Gretchen got to come with me to Ella's classroom to "volunteer". There are LOTS of bins in Ella's classroom. Bins of sponges. Bins of markers. Bins of buttons for counting. Bins of paintbrushes. Bins of small sharp objects that can be used as projectiles. Mostly my volunteering service was spent cleaning up the bins that Gretchen tore apart and then removing her from the classroom when her delicate sensibilities were offended. I know, I know, "Apryl, WHY didn't you 'know your limits'? Obviously taking The Gretch to Kindergarten is not a good idea. Come on!" And I knew what I was getting in to. But Ella's super awesome teacher (really, I'm not being sarcastic. She's Super Awesome. I love her and want to be her new BFF) asked me if I could help because she, "Really needed volunteers and didn't have anyone to help on Thursday, and it's totally fine to bring the baby, really!"

End result: I am no longer volunteering on Thursdays. I'll be going on Fridays when Colby can keep The Gretch. Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher swore it wasn't because of Gretchen's behavior. In fact, she started out by saying, "Ok, this really Really REALLY isn't because of the baby, but I won't need you on Thursdays anymore..."

Phew.

Auntie Adrianne Is Very Observant

Adrianne just emailed me that THIS PICTURE of Gretchen (that's not at ALL creepy, right? RIGHT? Snicker), reminded her of something. But what is it? What is it.....



OF COURSE! The creepy puppets from Labyrinth. Duh.

Separated At Birth?

Or, "E.T.", like Auntie Autumn suggested...

Meet Duke

Duke is the new member of Aaron and B's family. I promised Lyrpa pictures so she could show the girls how big he is. Keep in mind, he's 8 months old. (A boy at Dairy Queen last night asked how old he was and I don't think he believed us when we told him that).

Cade, posing for us, to give perspective of size...

Head. (Big.)



The boys playing with Duke...



Posing - "Sleeping with Duke the dog." They even make snoring noises, though the snapshot can't capture their sound effects...

(Aaron and B's kitchen is almost almost complete!)

christian

christian

And Stop With The Singing!

Ella is slooooowly getting used to her new schedule. Yes, the schedule that makes her wake up at 6:30 in the morning. FOR KINDERGARTEN. I know. But she gets to wear a uniform, so that kind of makes up for it. But it does not, however, make up for the 20 new gray hairs I have from dealing with The Crankiest Four Year Old EVER. (Seriously? Are you really throwing a temper tantrum in public? YOU ARE FOUR. And I am not afraid to spank you! Just ask Uncle Shea. He totally saw The Legendary Fit at The Legends Shopping Experience.)

So we've been trying to take it slow and not plan as much after-school fun. Yesterday, after a post school tantrum BEFORE WE EVEN GOT IN THE CAR, she was sentenced to 20 minutes in Time Out, no TV, and an afternoon nap (where she did not sleep, but did ask me for a snack, drink and movie about 300 times). But today she was reasonably well behaved. Meaning she slowly stopped whining after I threatened to put her in time out, take away TV, and force nap time again. She asked if we could to go Target. Because that's her favorite place in the world. (Can you blame her? It's one of my favorite places too. Mmmmmm, consumerism....) Since both the girls were behaving, and I am in desperate need of contact solution, we went. Ella got a treat. Gretchen enjoyed trying on sunglasses. I found a summer outfit on clearance for Ella for next year's clothes stash. Our tentative foray into public was a mild success. I think we may even attempt the library again one day.

The Story Of Us In The Car:
ME: (Singing loudly and badly to that stupid Kidz Bop CD that came in Ella's happy meal a few months ago.)
Ella: Can you please stop singing Mom?
Me: No. ...la la la..And I'm gunna miss you like a child misses her blankie, but I have to move on with MY live... la la la la (seriously? This song sucks.)
Ella: Mom, STOP SINGING.
Me: You're going to hurt my feelings, honey. (sings crappy song louder)
Ella: Mom, you're hurting MY feelings with your singing!
Me: Guess what, it's my car and I can sing if I want.
Ella: Fine, you can sing till this song is over, and then no more.
Me: Should I turn around and NOT go to Target?
Ella: Fine. You can keep singing.

Ha ha, I win.

BTW, you're totally invited to Ella's birthday party.



Nope, nothing creepy about this image!

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