Don't poke a (dead) skunk, and other truths we hold to be self evident

We walked down to the park by the pool last Saturday while enjoying a visit from Grandmother M, and Helena announced that there was a HOLE! Under the boulder! And I did the "um hm, a hole, how interesting," because I was watching to make sure Hudson didn't crack every last vertebrae as he leapt from the other boulder that is at least 8 feet high, and also trying to keep the dog from strangling herself in her leash. Then Harper went over to investigate the hole and there was some mumbling and then, "Mommy, there is something ALIVE or maybe DEAD in the hole!" I went over to investigate and there was a distinct fluff of white and black hair sticking out from under the boulder. "Well, that is certainly a skunk. Let's back away slowly," I suggested. "It's already dead," Harper said casually. "And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?" I asked. "Well, I poked it with a stick," she said.

You know, there are so many possible scenarios that come up in parenting that you can prepare for.Then there are the dead skunks tucked under the playground boulder. I am really very and extremely grateful that the skunk WAS dead, because the only thing I know about removing the Odor of Agitated Skunk I learned from a Curious George book, and I didn't actually have any tomato juice at home. Anyway, I didn't waste that teachable moment, and now all three kids know that there should be NO POKING OR PRODDING OR OTHERWISE INVESTIGATING ANIMALS, EITHER WILD OR DOMESTICATED, TO DISCERN POSSIBLE ALIVENESS EVER.

We took our yearly trip to Dewberry "Farm" last Friday and it was so pleasant because someone else organized it and I didn't have a bit of responsibility. As usual, my kids' favorite part seemed to be the park at the entrance, where they usually only get to play for around 10 minutes.

The husband is, at this very moment, running a Tough Mudder race.Do you know what this is? I think it's like steeplechase, only with mud and without horses. Unfortunately, it is drizzling and 40 degrees out. We are not there to cheer him on because all of the kids seem to have colds already, and standing out in the drizzly cold is the opposite of salubrious. I am very sad not to get any pictorial evidence of the husband leaping and climbing and running in the mud. If you know him at all, you will understand that this is not exactly his preferred habitat.

That will  be all. I am really hoping to get the book blog started this week. We've been reading some delightful books lately that I would love to share.

Ninja, Swan, and Fairy

That was an unplanned hiatus. There has been no lack of happenings. Let's just jump back in.

I started reading lessons with Helena. She surprised me by writing her name in various places, with all of the letters in the correct order, which I took as a sign of readiness. I was hoping to wait a little longer. Although the book I have used with the other two is really easy in the early lessons, which means it only takes about 10 minutes out of my day. She is pleased to "do her school" and I sometimes remind her that "her school" is everything she is doing, all the day long. This is what she looks like when she is winking:

 One day, I overheard Hudson reading books to Helena in the bathroom while she was taking care of Bathroom Business. It struck me as a very sweet and tender moment. I thought better of photographing it, but I took a picture in my mind. One thing not so sweet and tender about Bathroom Business at our house is that it can NOT be accomplished expediently. We will be walking out the door, usually already running a little behind, and one of them will announce Bathroom Intentions. I will say, in a patient and benevolent tone (naturally), "Well, HURRY UP," then a few moments will pass and the child in question will reappear, having carefully gathered at least half a dozen books to take to the bathroom, yet still not having taken care of Bathroom Business. At which point I will say something (in a patient and benevolent tone, naturally) like, "There is a time for reading, and a time to REFRAIN FROM READING! THIS IS THE LATTER!" Then the kid in question will scurry away and, without the entertainment factor, things go much faster.

I am truly sorry for things taking such a scatological turn, but writing that story down just reminded me that one time a couple of years ago (I am 100% certain it was raining out)  the husband saw Sasha acting suspiciously on the carpet. He boomed, "SASHA DON'T YOU DARE POOP ON THE CARPET!" Alas, she was undone by fear. Out came the poop. And then we were undone by laughter. It's pretty funny to see a figure of speech come to (smelly, disgusting) life like that.

Harper made a card for our friend Ethan a couple of weeks ago. We all love Olivier Dunrea's sweet illustrations. Harper chose Peedie for this card. While she was drawing it, I wondered aloud if Dunrea had started out as a child doing reproductions of illustrations he admired. She asked if he got paid to write and illustrate children's books. I assured her he was compensated, probably handsomely, for his work. "THAT," she said firmly, "is what I am going to do for money when I am a grown up." I would not be at all surprised.

We were at my parents' last week, and there was the putting on of the costumes, and the meeting of the cousins at the church festivities. I present to you L-R: Tinkerbell, a ninja, and Louis the swan from Trumpet of the Swan:

 
 
Harper had made her own Louis costume to wear for Dress as Your Favorite Character From a Book day at our co-op a couple of weeks ago. It involved a white trash bag and required her to hold her hand straight up by her head because her arm was the swan neck. I persuaded her to use her own head this time, and we traded the trash bag for a white t-shirt and some bandanas.And yes, Hudson's taekwondo uniform makes yet another appearance. He actually wanted to be Bilbo Baggins, but a velvet cutaway was more than I could commit to.

More to come. Sooner, hopefully.