Wolf

Our boy is now a Wolf. His Tiger days are over. He traded in his orange neckerchief for a gold one.

G was also chosen Tiger Cub of the Year. This is him with his Den Leader, who is amazing. We are so lucky to have her. She happens to be a 100-mile marathoner, a mother of three, a running coach, a hard core Scout leader and the only woman I know who can make pearls the perfect accessory for a Scout uniform. (Collar is funky because scarf was put on by an eight year old. It’s all good.)

We are very proud of you, G!

Cheer,
D

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Last Day of School

This was taken last August . . .

This was taken last Friday (the last day of school is a uniform-free day) . . .

What a difference nine and a half months makes. (Seems to me that is a time frame in which lots of other things happened in their development a number of years back.)

Next year it is on to 2nd grade and 4th grade respectively.

Cheers,
D

Grocery Pyramids

This is what happens at our house with the boy is tasked with unloading bags of groceries . . .

Cheers,
D

Bucket o’ Lizard

The boy is at it again . . . pet for a day. This one he caught himself and was so very proud. He played with it for hours after school and cried when the lizard had to be set free . . .

G took very good care of his little lizard as shown by the fact that the lizard managed to hang on to his tail in spite of being handled so much. I’m thinking this was especially nice for the lizard because it appeared he had already lost his tail somewhere along the way and was still busy working on the replacement. G even showed up in the kitchen with the lizard in hand wanting to help the rest of us can meals. The lizard’s invitation to the house was quickly rescinded. The boy opted to hang with his buddy on the patio.

Happy lizards to you,
D

Accessorizing

Accessorizing G style . . .

Cheers,
D

First Lost Tooth

G lost his first tooth on the 3rd of this month.

It seemed to go from barely loose to all but hanging out of his mouth in a very short period of time. He fussed about that tooth for a week and finally decided to try the string-door maneuver to pull it out. We managed to get the string around his tooth and secured the other end to a kitchen cupboard door. Just tightening the string pulled the tooth out. He never had the opportunity to slam the door. We have the video to prove it. I tried to capture it in all of its wobbly glory before it evacuated itself out of his mouth.

And now we have a boy with a little extra space in his mouth.

He is very excited.

Cheers,
D

“National Emergency! National Emergency!”

That is what the boy came in the house hollering at the top of his lungs the other day.

It took me a minute to tear myself away from the book in which I was engrossed because I felt relatively secure in the knowledge that it wouldn’t have taken my son alerting me to a national emergency if one were actually occurring on our doorstep.

I looked up to see a freckle-faced little boy whose dark brown eyes were resembling saucers beckoning me with his short little fingers.

“Come on, Mom. You gotta see this.” His voice and face were very solemn.

I followed him out the front door and this is what I found:

A poem about what little boys are made of comes to mind.

“Wow, G!” I’m sure overwhelming enthusiasm positively emanated from my being. G quickly shifted gears from serious to delighted.

“Look, Mom! Snail poop!” (Big laugh.)

(No close-up. Sorry. Try to contain your disappointment.)

G brought the snails food and said, “It’s a group hug, Mom!”

Prior to that moment I don’t think it ever occurred to me to put the words ‘snail’ and ‘hug’ in the same paragraph much less the same sentence.

“Awwww – a baby! Isn’t he cute?”

Ditto for cute and snail and sentences.

G was very proud of his collection.

His mamma was slightly repulsed but managed to kept it to herself.

Is it possible to be incredibly proud of your children and delight in their enthusiasm and be grossed-out at the same time? Because if the boy wants to study bugs I will do everything I can to keep my skin from crawling off my body and encourage him. This is evidenced by the fact that the snail collection ultimately wound up being stored in a yogurt container with a custom viewing port designed by our little malacologist . . . on the counter . . . in the kitchen.

Still trying to avoid passing my phobias on to my son,
D

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