Such was the day — working in the yard, working in the house — that I took one photo the entire day, of the Boy doing his part.
The rest stays in my head — and in my legs, arms, and exhausted body.
Saturday
the boy
School Year’s Eve
Tomorrow, I begin my twenty-fifth year teaching, my sixteenth with Greenville County Schools. Am I ready? I’ve reviewed and signed all my IEPs and 504 plans. I’ve worked with other eighth-grade teachers to create this week’s lesson plans (and of course, the administration tweaked the lesson plan template, as they do every single year). I’ve spoken to teachers and administrators about which students I need to focus on early in order to form a good relationship so that when things sour, I have that good relationship to appeal to. I’ve spoken to my co-teacher in my inclusion class about what we’ll be doing and had a fruitful discussion about how we will work together. I’ve watched (almost) all my safety training videos (the same ones, year after year after year after year after year…). I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do, and I still don’t feel ready for tomorrow.
Part of that is because of what I’ve heard about this year’s group of kids. “They’re the toughest bunch we’ve ever had” was the common assessment of most seventh-grade teachers. I’m not looking forward to a year like that. Yet they always mature some over the summer, so I’m hopeful that will mitigate things a bit.
The Boy, though, feels even less prepared than I do. “I just want to go back to elementary school” has been his mantra. New starts always make him nervous, but K pointed out to him all the new things he’s thrived in this summer: a new scouting troop; summer camp with a different scouting troop; band camp with a group of strangers. Still, he’s reticent. I can understand that.
The Girl is just ready to go. She’s got so many AP classes this year that it’s troubling (seven out of her eight classes are AP: four the first semester, three the second semester), but she’s stubborn and resilient. She’ll make it.
K is not looking forward to the morning rush, but she and I will slip back into it.
Only the animals are calm about it…
Scout Family Campout Day 2
Scout Family Campout Day 1
Trombone Shorty
Getting Ready
The start of the school year approaches — only a little over a week and a half from now, I’ll be starting my twenty-fifth year in the classroom. Or twenty-sixth? Or twenty-fourth? Twenty-somethingth. This is a year of changes in a lot of ways. My room layout has been, more or less, the same for the last decade. If it works, why mess with it? But now I have a new desk from K and a new bookshelf from our house, so things are getting a little bit of a shakeup.
I’m also planning some changes in the simple things we do every day in class. No more article of the week for on-level classes as the bell-ringer. More discussion in class, more discussions that are simple, shorter. More writing, writing that is less structured and more choice-oriented.
The Boy and I spent a good bit of the late morning and early afternoon in my classroom, arranging things, putting books back on shelves, wiping down a few things.
And So It Begins
Eco Tour
The Boy Returns
The Boy came back from Scout camp — and he wanted sushi.
And we wanted, for dinner, fried green tomatoes.
Orlando 2023 Day 3
The girls did better today: won two, lost one. The one they lost they should have won: it was not a team that dominated them, but they lost in the third set.
Finally, we have some pictures from the Boy: K went for the parents’ night at scout camp today. He showed her around where they sleep, their bathhouse, and myriad other things — all the details that make camp camp.
“E is having a good time,” she texted, which assuaged my biggest worry–that he would be reluctant to engage with others and not really make any good friends.
The opposite seems to be happening.
Orlando 2023 Day 1
The girls split their games today. They played one team from Charlotte who has beaten them three times this season. Our girls took the first set, and we up 6-1 in the second set, but the other team really kicked into gear and took the second set. We won’t talk about the third set…
Discovery of the day: scooters for rent, which is how we traveled back to the hotel from the tournament. (We’re only about a mile away from the convention center, so I dropped the Girl off this morning and then drove back to the hotel and walked.) Second discovery of the day: the scooters weren’t as cheap as we’d calculated…
As for the Boy, I got a picture from his troop leader:
Since he’s in his Class A uniform, I’m assuming this was actually from yesterday.
“He doesn’t look thrilled,” K texted.
“None of them do,” I replied.
Hopefully, he’s doing well.
Two Departures
The Boy left for Scout camp today:
I’ve been a little curious and worried about how he might take it: he’s not actually going with his own troop because his uncle is coming from Poland with his family that week. “There’s no way you’re going to camp while Wojek D is here!” K exclaimed, so the Boy is going with a different troop. He knows a few people in that troop, but it’s not his troop. He chose the troop he did because he wants to be with his friends, the friends who are going to Scout camp a couple of weeks from now.
The Girl and I, on the other hand, headed off to Orlando today for Nationals. How will her team do? I don’t know. Is that so important? Yes, and no.
What is important? Our TV greeted us when we first entered the room…
Legos
Where did this come from? The last time I remember doing this with him — I can’t even recall. Two years ago? More? Less?
Play Date
L insists that the boys are too old now to have play dates.
“They just hangout!” she explains with exasperation.
“What about you? Do you have play dates?”
[L rolls her eyes…]
Bounce and Paint
Another Day in the Basement and a Scout
Today I put the first coats of paint on the basement walls — at least half of the wall space. Perhaps a little more than that.
Will it work? Well, it worked today.
More importantly, the Boy made his first BSA rank: scout.
And the Girl? She drove to Asheville to spend the day with her best friend. Yet another sign that she’s growing up — not quite as fast as she thinks she is, but still…
Day with the Family
Busy Saturday
Family Ride
It’s been a while since K joined E and me on a bike ride. (What about L? When it comes to cycling, forget about L: biking is not her thing anymore, and we’re not going to try to force that on her. )
We headed south to Hickory Knob State Park, which has a six-mile bike trail that winds along beside a lake. Only 300 feet of climbing, so it seemed like something K would be comfortable with. After all, she’s on a suspension-less hybrid bike with 32mm tires: it’s not going to do well at a lot of the places E and I like.
We got started, took a few pictures along the way, found a turtle in the middle of the trail (rescued it), rounded a bend in the trail to discover huge, dark clouds just a few hundred feet from us.
We knew it might start raining: it was in the forecast. But we hoped it might hold out, that we might survive with a few sprinkles.
Within a few minutes, it wasn’t sprinkling; it wasn’t raining; it was a monsoon.
What else could we do except continue pedaling?
Pressuring Washing Monopoly Blueberries
There is a tsunami approaching: we got the first hints today. Hidden here and there among the pale blue berries are a few dark, ripe ones. There were not many this morning, but there were enough to fill a small cup. What awaits us, though, is overwhelming — in the most positive way, to be sure, but overwhelming nonetheless.
We picked them after we spent a bit of time blasting off the last bit of paint on the ramp that leads to our side entrance.
It was the ramp we built to help us get Nana and Papa into their new quarters a little over four years ago. We don’t have much need for it now — we could survive with a simple path and a couple of steps, but of course, we would never go through the time and expense of taking out the ramp and putting in a walkway in. As with the walk-in shower, it’s a reminder of a time now gone, of family now gone, of times never to return.
And so, as if almost in an unconscious effort to make the most of the times we have together, we did something we haven’t done as a family in a while: play a board game. L, of course, won — she almost always wins. The Boy came in last, as he frequently and sadly does. K and I, not worrying about who’s winning or losing as the game progresses, end up in the middle.
A perfect evening in the middle of the week. We need more of them.