Apr 26, 2011

Down on the Farm

4/26/2011 — cori
This past weekend we changed our city clothes for country clothes. I guess the only change of attire that was noticeable was the lovely Target bags around our sneakers since only one of us owns mud boots (lucky Chloe). The above farm was the view from the one we were at.


Chloe looked right at home with her cute pink (toy) rifle and mud boots. Not to even mention the fact that she's the only one of us who knows how to ride a real horse, not just one of those little ponies that is led around in a circle at a petting zoo (that would be me). She's a natural cowgirl.

Another noticeable difference between us city slickers and the locals was that we carried our dog around. While all the other 8 dogs were free to roam, ours is getting carried like a baby. I'm sure she was embarrassed out of her mind, but practicality won out with us. We just didn't feel up to cleaning mud off of her for the next 3 days. Seriously, the mud was over a foot deep.


I don't think #11 was all too pleased with the mud situation either. How can you resist a face like this? He is only 2 weeks old.


We really enjoyed our time visiting Aunt Lu and Uncle Joel and the cows, and the horses, and the goats and the pigeons and the bunnies and the chickens and the geese and the dogs.


But the most wonderful thing about being on the farm was the serenity, the "fresh" air (if you just try to block out all that manure smell) and the wide open spaces. I never tire of sunsets and sunrises. I stand in awe each time like it was the first and only one I've ever seen. I probably took 10 photos just like this one:
This is what I woke up to the next morning (thank you Ninja for needing to go potty at the break of dawn). Another day I'm thankful to be alive.

Apr 25, 2011

Vernacular Habits

4/25/2011 — cori
If you are Gavin, you read at least 1 book a day, sometimes more. Because of this extensive reading habit of his, he's also acquired, as a side benefit, a monstrous vocabulary. I'm reminded of this every time I speak with him. Not only does it come naturally for him to speak this way, he's also the kind of person who thinks before he speaks (unlike his mother) and contemplates just the right word to express his thoughts. Here are some examples that occurred within the past 24 hours only:

When asked how he was enjoying his time at a relative's farm he replies, "It's a nice environment." What kid says that??

When asked when his ichat with a friend was he tells me, "Well, it's either Tuesday or Wednesday." That didn't make much sense to me, so I continued on with, "How do you know which day?" He answers, "I'll call him at the appointed time on each day to find out." Oh good...the appointed time. I hope your friend knows when the 'appointed time' is.

As he's helping me add trim to some window treatments, "Wow, Mom, this is some strenuous work!" Yes my son, that's exactly what I do all day...work strenuously.. Now if I could just remember that when somebody asks me what it is I do.

I just love this kid.

Apr 20, 2011

Adventures in Bussing

4/20/2011 — cori
In between posts, ALOT has changed. We've moved across country, sold a house, bought a house, and enrolled the kids in school. Our life in a nutshell.

Anyways, Gavin has always wanted to ride a bus. Ever since he was 3 and saw that big, shiny, irresistible, yellow piece of awesomeness on wheels, that has been his life's goal. Which unfortunately, didn't really coincide with homeschooling. There are no buses in the home school. Bummer.

So when the kids found out they would be going to school, Gavin was elated with the thought of having the opportunity to finally ride his beloved bus. We were told where his bus stop would be in our neighborhood. Since everything is new to all of us, we decided to take a family walk to his bus stop so we all knew where he would be standing each morning at 7am. It takes him all of 2 minutes (maybe 1 if he walks fast) to get around the corner.

Monday morning finally came, his first day riding the bus. We send him out the door with kisses and well wishes of his first day of Middle School in a new state. He was beaming with pride. Chuck left a little later than usual just so he could drive past the bus stop and make sure Gavin was indeed picked up. He drove past the location and noticed that Gavin was the only one standing on the corner. How odd. He rolled down the window and asked Gavin where all the other kids were (one of his many rhetorical questions he likes to throw at us that nobody ever knows the answers to). Gavin just shrugged, trying to play it cool.

This is where it starts to get dicy. Instead of picking up that little modern convenience called a cellular phone, Chuck decided to drive back home and come ask me, "Are you sure you got the right location for the bus stop? Gavin was the only one standing there."

"Oh no!" I gasp. As comes normal to me, I assume I heard the bus guy wrong and messed everything up on Gavin's very first day of his commemorative bus riding experience. It's all in shambles now. I start to panic as I sift thru my purse looking for the piece of paper where I wrote the cross streets down for the bus stop. Since my purse is in disarray and I have like 12,000 random pieces of paper in it and school starts in like 10 minutes we decide that Chuck should just go back, pick him up and drive him there so he won't be late. We'll worry about the right bus stop place later.

He leaves the house and drives back around the corner. He calls me (this time), "He's not here." WHAT?! How can my son be there one minute and not the next? Great! We've lost Gavin on his first day of school. He's smart enough to know not to get in the car with a stranger, so we deduce that either a bus came and got him or he walked to another location looking for a group of kids to get on a bus with. Oh boy! What have we done?! Maybe sending them to school wasn't the best decision.

Chuck high tails it to the school and sits in the parking lot waiting for the buses so he can watch each kid getting off the bus so he can spot our eldest. Great - now we're looking like stalkers. Nobody knows us in this town yet and here we are stalking their schools, kids and buses. Not good. Chuck calls me back and says he's going in.

He goes into the office and explains what happened. They laugh and check the schedule and confirm that he was indeed at the correct bus stop but that bus was running late this morning. Apparently, it came when Chuck came home to update me on Gavin's situation. Relieved, he sits in the office and waits for Gavin since he knows he has to come to the office on his first day (don't even get me going on how I wanted to be able to walk him in on his first day - but he was adamant that he wanted to and could do it all by himself).

Finally, Chuck sees Gavin saunter in. Gavin glances over at him, ignores him and walks straight to the desk to say, "I'm new. Today's my first day." Chuck goes over to him and tells him we just wanted to make sure he got there ok. Gavin nods yet stays cool, calm and collected waiting for instructions from the secretary. Chuck called me to tell me that our boy is where he should be, we can now rest easy. Whew. Disaster averted. But now Daddy is all sad that his son is acting all nonchalant about seeing him there. We chalk it up to being 12.

Gavin gets home at 2:45. Thankfully, the bus drops him off in the right location. We enjoy 30 minutes of tea and cookies and sharing our days with each other. I asked him if he was surprised to see Daddy waiting in the office and he said, "No. I knew he'd be there." I explained our side of the story to him and he explained his side to me. Funny stuff. He said he was so nervous all day, he just wanted to talk to the secretary and find out where he was supposed to go, he didn't have time to assure Daddy that all was well. He was a man on a mission.

I am proud to report that we haven't lost him once since then.

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