"al-gee-bra"

While Avi learned to ride a bike today, Noah has been learning algebra at Spring Break "math camp" at the UO (officially called "Hands-On Equations").  Tonight he was showing us how he could figure out 2(3x+1) = x + 27.  Wow.  X =5.  More importantly, he really got it, not just the answer, but what it was that he was figuring out.  Sure beats what he's been doing in math in the classroom for the past 6.5 months.

Murder or Scientific Sacrifice?

Here's what I found in the freezer this evening:

Do other kids put stuff in the freezer as frequently as ours do?  You would think they would've figured this "science experiment" out by now.  It freezes.

Question is, do I rescue Mr. Minifig or do I see how long before the boys remember he's in there?

A new bike-rider is born

He's been riding all of about 5 minutes!

New Hair Cuts

All the boys got their hair cut in the last few days.  Noah willingly enough at home one evening. Ezra this morning while being allowed to play on the bathroom counter with toothbrushes and everything else in reach - oh what a mess with damp hair clippings everywhere - I should have planned that out a little better. And Avi this afternoon.   He was the one that needed it the most, but I honestly didn't know when or how  it was ever going to happen.  Then Mack came for their play date.  Turned out that Mack was going to be picked up by his grandpa to go get a haircut.  Perfect!  What better incentive than the chance to go with a friend.  So Mack and his grandpa Larry and the boys and I all went to Don's barber shop and watched the boys get hair cuts.  Who would have believed that Avi had ever thrown a fit about getting his haircut before.  He sat so still and was the most cooperate, well-behaved child you could possibly imagine.  And he wasn't even still from fright.  He seemed completely relaxed (and absorbed in the cartoon playing on the TV in front of him.

In the afternoon I had the boys pose for pictures with their new haircuts.  I'm not the fine photographer that Cary is, but I love how this series of pics really shows off their personalities, so I had to put the whole set up.  I asked them to make a series of faces, funny, mad, excited, etc. 

Seriously?

How exactly does that happen? Especially when nearly all the toothbrushing is assisted/supervised. There's so much I don't understand -and I don't even mean the big life questions, y'know, like where do the mismatched socks go.

Style doesn't matter until age 10 apparently

I've been cutting the boys' hair for years now.  That being said, I haven't cut Avi's since last fall and it's getting VERY long.  The last time I cut Avi's hair was such a horrific event that I swore I wouldn't cut his hair again until he proved to me that he could be cooperative with someone else.  It has yet to happen, but I think we're getting closer.  It's in his eyes a lot.  The deal is that he has to let Daddy, Grandma, or a professional give him a haircut before I get near him with scissors again.  The last time resulted in screaming and physical violence on both sides, including a nicked and bleeding ear.  As I said, horrific.  I don't ever need to repeat that experience with one of my children again.

But I digress, this story tonight is about the eldest of my boys.  To say that he is much more cooperative about haircuts is really only to highlight how awful the MC has been, because #1 fusses and moans the whole time and has to be reminded about every ten seconds to sit up straight.  He freaks out because of the hair that falls on his neck and face, and I have to constantly blow it off.  That being said, he willingly agrees to a cut when he starts to get shaggy.  His hair is so thick that it gets unruly.  So tonight when I was cutting it he just wanted me to cut it that fastest way possible.  I was trying to do just that by using the trimmer all the way around in two lengths, one for the back (1/4") and one for everything else (7/8").   I think it was the shortest I've ever gone on top.  It looks a little goofy, but I tried to fix it up the best I could with scissors afterwards.  Anyhow, the point of this story is really that I learned something important, two things actually.

Yesterday on our first of two snow days, Noah met up with his classmate Ruby sledding in the park.  He and Cary talked to Ruby and her mom about coming over for a play date later, and so the two of them spent a couple of hours playing Monopoly here in the afternoon.  Only later in the evening did it come out that he has a crush on Ruby.  I love that he shared this with us.  We talked about why.  So sweet.  She's friendly, nice, easy-going, likes the same stuff he likes, is smart, and significantly has sat next to him all year so far.  Fast forward again to tonight's hair cut.  He was so ready to be done and I was trying to convince him that it was a little wonky in the back and he should let me clean it up with the scissors.  He protested.  I suggested that he didn't want to go to school with goofy hair.  He said he didn't care.  I said something like, "What about Ruby?" He said, "Oh that doesn't matter until I'm ten."
Love it.  But oh my!  What's going to happen when he turns ten?  Watch out girls.

Just ONE time too many!

It's bedtime and Cary and I have been nagging Noah to get ready for bed. He's already lost his story from us when we were still downstairs for fooling around repeatedly when asked to finish his milk, carry his dishes over and get upstairs to start getting ready. He's already been reminded about "time and place" and "appropriate response."  He's already been instructed to adopt a somber attitude and complete the tasks. (In typical fashion, we've had a lovely evening with an art project, singing and dancing and joking around, but then he can't transition and reign it in when it's time. He's had the same challenge since toddlerhood.  He's unable to get serious about his consequence and focus on the task at hand.  So when we're all upstairs getting into PJs, and he's supposed to be brushing his teeth, he runs downstairs to get an old musical birthday card he rediscovered today. Argh. Again.  Then I order him into the bathroom to have him brush his teeth, and he's squirming around being silly.  Again.
The conversation that transpired next was priceless. Not in the "Ahh....Aren't kids so sweet" kind of way, but in the "OMG, how could our brains be wired so differently" kind of way.

Me: Noah, that's it. You already lost story time, now you've lost the opportunity to read to yourself.

Noah: What?!? (acting all shocked) 

Me: We've had to redirect you one too many times. You shouldn't need all these reminders to do what's expected.

Noah: But just one too many! (As if he shouldn't have lost a privilege until it was X MORE times too many.)

Who responds that way? Just one time?  Yes I suppose I literally said, "one time" when I meant "way too many times," but he knew what I meant!  How will such a perspective serve him in the future? There must be some usefulness to his constant negotiating and line dancing.  Will he be a hostage negotiator? A contract lawyer? A great judge?

Rainy day play

Too cold and wet outside for sandbox play, so we brought it inside today, complete with leaves and other greenery. Look carefully, and you'll even see a lake we made for the Apatasaurus. Noah just got home from school, and he immediately got as caught up in Dinosaur World as Avi is. We made dino eggs with flour dough with sand and coffee grounds. We've been collecting Cary's coffee grounds for awhile.
Now they are absorbed in discussing who's a meat-eater and who's not and who might eat each other and "training" them to not bite.
Love it. Worth the sand spilled all over the back steps. Better get to cleaning that up now.

Everything just takes longer with kids

Such as getting out of the car, because you have to pick up all the toys that the now-sleeping toddler enjoyed pitching over the side of the seat. He was asleep in the picture, worn out from his hard labor.

Are we really there yet?

Out eldest had brought home jokes recently featuring "hairy pickle" and "liqueur buns" punch lines. Or should I say, "lick her..."
I was volunteering for Noah's class's library Period the other day and one of his friends (a conservative Chinese-American kid whose family is very involved in church) was joking with another buddy about an author named Fuche on a book. "If the 'h' was a ...". "Timothy," I said, startling him unintentionally, "I don't think your father would want you talking that way, and besides, that still wouldn't be spelled right!" He was a little embarrassed. Is my son having these conversations too? I don't doubt it. He is afterall the one who exclaimed "shit" the other day when he spilled water on his pants while sitting in the back of the car. I couldn't believe it. Thankfully we were the only two in the car at the time. I don't need my four-year-old repeating that! We talked about the fact that he shouldn't be saying that word at all, but if one was to accidentally let that word slip out, it better be for something a lot more dramatic than a little water on your pant leg!
Cary was talking with another parent the other day whose 15-year-old son is dating an 18-year-old girl and the father and son have been negotiating whether or not the young couple can spend time in their homes when no one else is present. It just made us both think how many difficult stages or challenges we still have ahead of us. Yikes.

Brotherly Love

There's plenty of tension between the boys on any given day, screams for "Mom, get Ezra," or arguments between the older two, but in comparison to what it could be, I feel very fortunate that the boys get along as well as they do, especially given their age differences.  I know they love each other.  With Noah, it's almost always clear as he's most effusive about it (more so about his cute baby brother, less so at the moment for his "annoying" 4-year-old one).  I see it with Avi too, but not as often.  He's more apt to put a sign on his door saying "no 8 year olds allowed," or complain about having a baby mess things up. However, his affection for both of his brothers the other day was so palpable I was really touched.  It was picking him up at the end of his school day and he was bouncing around enthusiastically asking me when Noah was going to be home so they could play Cars together again (they've been acting out scenes from Cars 2 with Avi's two lego kits of Mater and Fin McMisile he got the other day).  "When's he going to be home, Mama? Noah's my best friend!"  Ah, what more can a mother ask for?  Then, not five minutes later, as I was talking with someone, Ezra snuck behind the folded room divider at TBI as he is wont to do.  I saw him, and was going to get him in just a second, but before I got over there, Avi suddenly came running to me screaming in terror.  He could hardly speak he was so upset.  Tears streaming down his face, sobbing, he pulls me down and I try to figure out what had happened to him.  Turns out, nothing.  He was just worried about that pesky little brother of his.  Ezra was fine of course, but somehow Avi thought that the other kids had smashed him behind the room divider and he was completely distraught that his little brother was hurt.  As I assured him that Ezra was fine and another adult fished the oblivious monkey out of his hiding spot, I managed to calm Avi down.  I was so touched that Avi would be that concerned.  It was such a dramatic display of his affection and sense of protection for his brother.  I really hadn't seen anything like it before.