Happy Day to My First Baby!

Today was a big day. He turned twelve, and he finally got the green light to end "restricted activity" since breaking his clavicle in May. He wanted to go right out and get a new helmet to replace the damaged one from the accident so that he could get back on that blasted rip stick of his. And he did. His legs will be hurting tomorrow, but I'm proud of him for getting right back on it after such a painful injury.

As the birthday boy, he also got to pick dinner and we dined on Jamie Oliver's Chili Beef Nachos. His new favorite.

I never could have guessed back when he was born what a great kid he would be today. I think I'll keep him. Happy Birthday!

A message from the sick ward

Nine days ago I woke up and my life came to a screeching halt. Ben had a fever. The stories on the news of the H1N1 virus making its way through the schools echoed in my head. The thought of a day at home wasn't so bad at the time, but little did I know I'd still be here nine days later.

That first day Alanya got off the bus and I knew I was in trouble. She had it too. For the next few days we were the sick ward and miraculously Noah and I showed no signs of getting sick. I cancelled my plans and turned into a vampire, venturing out only when it was dark after Jason got home from work. Trips to the grocery store and pharmacy the extent of my travels.

Around Day 6, the two little ones looked to be coming out of it and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. And then... "Mom, my throat is sore," from Noah. Say it isn't so.

The doctor's offices around here don't want to see kids with the flu as there is nothing that can be done for it. No need to bring them out in public to infect others. Something was different with Noah though, and on the third day I decided to call. After more than two hours of busy signals I finally got through and convinced the nurse he should get in to see someone. Strep throat, not the flu. Go figure. My doctor, who had told me he highly doubted Noah had strep, but would do the test anyway, handed me the prescription for antibiotics and said that Noah was one of the few kids he could help this week, and he should be feeling better in 48 hours.

So here I sit, day nine. You'd think my house would be spotless, closets cleaned, yard raked. What do I have to show for this house-bound vacation of mine? Not much. I need a vacation.

What I learned in Junior High

My first child started Middle School recently, and that alone was a bit of adjustment for me. Wasn’t I just negotiating with him to leave his pacifier in the car when we went to tour preschools? Where did the time go? Even more disturbing is thinking that my little boy is being released into that horrible den of pre-teen hell called Middle School. For me it was Junior High, but it’s all the same. You couldn’t pay me to go back, not that I would ever tell Noah that. It is a rite of passage we all need to experience. The cruel twist of fate in my case is that he is going to the same school I did.

Last spring I attended a parent night and as I walked through the doors of the school for the first time in 23 years my stomach dropped a bit. It looks a little different with a new wing, and new color scheme, but so much is exactly the same. The memories came rushing back, both good and bad, but mostly the bad.

All summer it drove me crazy that all I could remember was the nasty girls, the insecurities and the teasing boys. I remember planning my outfit for the first day of school, and then once I got to my homeroom, immediately realizing I looked completely wrong; the sleepless nights; standing against the wall ready to vomit when a slow song was played at a dance. I decided to dig deep and remember some of the positives, and indeed, I did learn a few things about life in Junior High.

People can be cruel. They may regret it moments later or years later, but sometimes something can come over a person and once the words come out they can’t be taken back.
It’s never too late to apologize. When I was in college I ran into a girl from Junior High who had done something horrible to me. We stopped to say hello and to my shock, she apologized. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but it must have been bothering her for years. I’m not sure I would have been that courageous, but she taught me it is never too late.
Challenging yourself is better than taking the easy road. In 8th grade, due to a scheduling conflict, I got put into a Social Studies class that was a level lower than I normally took. I was the teacher’s pet, got perfect grades, and barely had to lift a finger. And I was bored silly.
Life-long friendships are possible. I am still close to two of my friends from Junior High (Kelly? Mindy? Are you reading this?), and although our lives have taken us to different places and different parts of the country, when we do connect it is effort-less.
Family will always pick you up. The joke in my family is that whenever someone said or did anything hurtful to me (which happened more than necessary in Junior High) my mom and sisters would always respond with “they are just jealous of you”. It probably wasn’t always true, but it always made me feel better.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad by any means. I do remember being a part of the school volleyball team, the all-night slumber parties, the new independence, my first “boyfriend” and first kiss in the school gym. More than anything, I have to laugh at it all now as an adult. The things that seemed so important then are so small in the larger scheme of things. My wish for Noah is that he will figure that out earlier than later.

Embracing the teaching moments.. even the difficult ones

Any pediatrician or experienced parent will tell you that you need to grasp onto "teaching moments" when they present themselves. Some subjects aren't always regular dinner talk, take divorce for example. Jason and I will be happily married 14 years next month, and my parents just celebrated their 46th anniversary. So how do you explain something like divorce? When the moments present themselves.

Each of our kids have had an "aha" moment when they realized Jason's parents must have known each other at one time. Grandpa lived here, Grandma lived there and it took awhile before they put two and two together. When Alanya was about three or four years old, Jason's mom was visiting and we were at a baseball game. Jason's father arrived at the field, and Alanya excitedly said "Grandma, I want you to meet my Grandpa!" She was just so excited for two people she loved so much to finally meet. It was sweet and sad all at the same time. That was a moment.

After that incident, once Alanya figured it out, she was obsessed with the idea that Grandma and Grandpa used to be married. In her world of Disney princesses and magical weddings, things like divorce never came after the happily ever after. She would sit on Grandpa's lap and ask him questions about Grandma. Where did they meet? Where did they live? Grandpa answered her, always short and sweet. Once when we were visiting Grandma, Alanya followed her around at her heels asking "but what was your dress like at the wedding?" It was all her way of wrapping her head around the "D" word. Since then, my brother has divorced, Jason's aunt has divorced, there are friends with step-dads and step-moms - each of these small moments for understanding.

Lately there has been a new layer added. Alanya and Ben have put two and two together and have figured out that Jason was a child of divorced people. I know it seems simple, but for them to imagine their daddy as a little boy with parents living apart has been slow coming. To understand what it must be like for children of divorce is not always easy to comprehend, especially when it's your dad. Recently though we have had a new learning moment present itself. Jon and Kate.

For those who haven't heard of Jon and Kate Gosselin (have you been living under a rock?), they are the parents of twins and sextuplets who have been the stars of a successful reality TV show. In the beginning, Jason and I would both watch the show if we stumbled across it. The kids were typical kids and ran the parents ragged, the parents would bicker and be exhausted, and we would thank our lucky stars that our life wasn't nearly as crazy as the Gosselins. About a year ago, my kids started watching the show and enjoyed seeing the eight kids go to an amusement park, or visit a museum, but in the last six months something has happened. The marriage of Jon and Kate has fallen apart on national television with my kids watching. It was rumored that last night they were going to announce they were divorcing (they did) and I told Jason I thought I should watch the show first to see if it was inappropriate for the kids to see. As soon as I said it and I saw Jason's eyes, I wished I could take it back. Since when is divorce "inappropriate"? It is his life. We watched the show together so that we could discuss it with the kids... another teaching moment.

Today while driving, I asked the kids what they thought of the show. At first no one really said anything, but slowly they started to open up. Ben wanted to know if Jon and Kate had told the kids yet, because for him he can put himself in their place and empathize with the kids. Noah said he wished they announced it would be the last show so that the family could have privacy and they could try to work out their problems. Alanya said "I think they shouldn't be sharing their feelings on public television." At six years old she has a better grasp of the situation than all the adults involved in making that show.

I don't know if my kids will continue to watch Jon and Kate, but maybe it will show them that families with divorced parents can still have happy times and still have love. And if not, I'm sure there will be more teaching moments down the road that will get them there.

Happy Father's Day...

Some of my favorite pictures of Jason being a dad. You are the best! Happy Farter's Day... tee hee!

Congratulations Noah!

My handsome son had a promotion ceremony today as he leaves elementary school. He was one of about a dozen kids to receive a presidential award for academic excellence, all A's for both fourth and fifth grades. We are so very proud of him.

I didn't know if I would get emotional, but when all the kids stood up and sang the class song, The Climb by Miley Cyrus, Noah was looking right at me and singing and I lost it.

I know, this picture of him in catching gear has absolutely nothing to do with his promotion... but isn't he handsome? No, I'm not proud.

Another year down

Wasn't it just yesterday that I took this picture? All three of my kids getting on the bus together starting grades one, two and five. They will never all be on the bus together again, and it isn't until I write this that I realize this picture is so special. Where did the year go?

Alanya will finish first grade on Monday, and she has come a long way. It was a rocky start, but her reading has greatly improved and she will do just fine. Her teachers compliment her for contributing yet knowing when to sit quietly and listen. She is enthusiastic and has many friends. I have been joking with her this week that I spoke to the principal because I want her to stay in first grade forever. I want her to grow up, but there is something about a little girl in first grade. You just want to freeze it and keep it forever.

Ben continues to shine and second grade kept him busy as the teachers challenged him to work even harder. Some weeks he had more homework than our fifth grader, but he handled it all with a meticulous perfectionism, wanting everything to be just right. His handwriting is beautiful, and he sometimes is old beyond his years as he chit chats with adults - one of his favorite things to do. At the same time, he's still a little boy who loves a good potty joke. Ben continues to surprise me. Today he brought home a paper and he was supposed to draw a picture of himself in the future. He drew himself at a computer with a big sign over his head that says "MIT". That's Benny.

Noah is finishing his years at elementary school and will be moving to the middle school in the fall. He is my sensitive child who cries watching TV shows. He is outgoing, and a rule follower. His handwriting is atrocious, but his teachers still love him. He listens, questions and participates. Even though we call him "No" for short, he never says no when given a chance to do something at school. He worked in the school store for a month which required us to drive him to school early every day. He was a member of "the Green Team" at school to study and analyze waste in order to educate the other students on where they could make improvements. He sang in the choir and participated in Math Olympiad. He chose to participate in a competitive book club that met weekly and competed with other teams. Most memorable for me, he sat on a committee with me, teachers and administrators that presented our school for a statewide award for excellence. (We finished in the top three as a finalist) Middle school gets me nervous, but I won't have to worry about Noah. He will always find his way.

Another year gone and my little ones are not so little anymore.

Just a mother bear and her cub

About two weeks ago I was at church with the kids and my parents. We had just returned from receiving communion and were kneeling when I realized Ben was fainting. He swayed one way towards my mom, then straightened himself, but before I could do anything he fell over, hitting his head as he went. My mother and I, still trying to figure out what was happening, tried to lift him, but his legs were stuck under the pew. We finally got him up and on the bench and to this day I can picture his face. His eyes were wide open, but he wasn't there.

By this time the people around us knew something was wrong, and someone jumped up to go get water. In the second row, my choice was to go out the door closest to me in the front of the church and end up in the hot sun, or get him to the back of the church where the exit and bathrooms were. I scooped up my tall, gangly, 65 pound eight year old and started for the back. He was dead weight, and I was in heels, and as crazy as it sounds, what was running through my head was I was afraid my silk skirt was stuck in my underwear.

About halfway through the church Ben came out of it and started wailing, afraid and confused. I pulled him closer and whispered to him that everything would be all right. I finally got to the back and laid him down on the cold tile floor. A cup of water appeared. Damp paper towels appeared. Slowly he started to look like himself again. The whole experience lasted just a few minutes, but was scary and surreal.

For the next few days I would see people in the grocery store, or at a baseball game that I knew went to our church, but no one ever said anything. Maybe it wasn't as disruptive and crazy as I had imagined it. But a few days ago a dad stopped me at school and asked how Ben was doing. I told him Ben was fine and hopefully it was nothing. He said when it happened he made a move to get up and help me carry Ben, but he said I was like a mother bear and her cub, and the look on my face told him to just stay out of my way. I laughed when I heard this, but the more I reflected on this I realized he was right. Something kicks in when your child is hurting or in need and you go into auto pilot. I have often thought what would I do if the kids had an accident, or if there was an emergency, and a small part of me is relieved to know that I hopefully won't panic. My mother bear will come out.

Both the good and the bad of Memorial Day

Here the kids are sitting on Main Street during the Memorial Day Parade. We had a lot of fun seeing the marching bands, the veterans, the cub scouts and brownies. It was a beautiful sunny day and Jason didn't have to work. What better way to spend a morning? That was the good part.

This morning when I got up I hadn't even poured the coffee yet and I heard the kids. Noah was saying, "I'm not going to tell you, you have to ask Mom and Dad!" Finally Alanya came in and in her sweet way said, "Mama, what does nine-eleven mean?" Ben was right on her heals wanting an answer too. I took a deep breath and asked for a few minutes to have my coffee and get my thoughts together. How do you explain such hatred and fear to children? It's too bad you have to.

In the end I told them my nine-eleven story. It was Noah's very first day of preschool, he was three, and he screamed bloody murder as I handed him over to the teacher. I tore myself away holding Ben who was 10 months old and cried the whole way home. I put Ben down for a nap, turned on the Today Show and watched live right as the second plane hit. After about 30 minutes of watching the news coverage and seeing all the uncertainty unfold, my first reaction was to rush right back to that school and scoop Noah up in my arms, never to let him out of my sight again. I remember calling Jason at work to find out what I should do and he assured me he didn't think a preschool that was housed in a high school building in a suburban town would be a terrorist target. He told me Noah needed to stay.

That day was surreal, and I'm not sure I was fully able to describe what it meant to my 6 and 8 year olds, but I tried. I gave them the facts, and Noah also reminded me of the heroes on the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. It seems so long ago now, but Memorial Day was a good opportunity to talk about it with the kids. A chance to be thankful for our freedoms and remember everyone who has given us that freedom.

Benjamin Bunny

Sometime in the last 8 years the little baby we called Benjamin Bunny grew up and I'm amazed at the boy he has become. On Sunday Ben received his First Communion and over the last few days I have taken a few moments to just stop and watch him. My how he has changed.

When he was born, Ben was a serious baby who used to stop and take in the world. Noah on the other hand was always giggling and silly and squinty-eyed smiling. By contrast, Ben's somber demeanor took me aback. I remember once seeing him playing in his exersaucer and when I pulled out the video camera he immediately stopped playing and sat and stared at me holding the camera. I have a good 5 to 7 minutes of video of a drooling baby staring at me while I try to encourage him to laugh and smile and play. I should have realized then that Ben does only what he wants to do, not what others want him to do.

Ben has always had a soft spot for stuffed animals, and names and treasures every single one. His favorite though is Monkey, a small beanie baby sized zebra he has had since he was a newborn. Ben has literally loved Monkey so much he is nearly disintegrating, his velour fabric almost see-through now and his head wobbly and limp. Every few months I gently hand wash Monkey in woolite and Ben makes a bed of towels for him on his nightstand to dry. We have talked about the eventual passing of Monkey and the conversations never go well. Ben just swells with sadness at the thought and his eyes fill up.

Ben is a rule follower and he likes lists. He likes puzzles, origami, sudoku, classical and jazz. Electronic gadgets are his new favorite thing... he loves to sit on Jason's lap and play with Jason's new ipod touch. He loves amusement parks and can tell you all about Walt Disney and the history of Walt Disney World, and his favorite computer game is one where you build a virtual park. He's bright, handsome and loving, and determined to be his own person.

When did all that happen?? Eight short years. What will he be like in another eight?

Just as good as Farter's Day

Not too long ago, Jason got a card on Father's Day and one of the boys had written with sure confidence "Happy Farter's Day". It was classic. They had no idea, and we didn't let on that it was wrong. The other day Alanya gave me a book that is just as good as that Farter's Day card. Here it is with all her original spellings. It doesn't get much better than this when a little hand writes these words for you.

Happy Mathrs Day.

Tobay is mathrs bay. It's may 10th the best day evre.

Because it cams wants a year. and the best prt is that I mad a book for my momay.

It is not abut you. It's abut your mom. the best persin ever.

It's fun fur every won. The best day of hre life. I love you mom.

Piano practice at 6am?

Being woken up at six to the kids arguing, watching the TV too loud, or simply having a kid tap you on the shoulder because they want something is painful. However when you get woken up at 6am to the piano being played it's absolutely delightful. It means whoever is playing is playing for themselves and not begrudgingly because you nagged them for an hour. Music played at dawn is even more sweet when it wafts up to your sleeping ears.

A sucker for some challah

About three weeks ago Noah came home excited about an assignment at school. He had to pick a country, write a short paper, find a piece of literature from that country, find a recipe and then make the recipe and bring it in for their Cultural Buffet. From day one he said he would do Israel, his literature was a Hebrew song/poem that Jason used to sing to him when he was a baby, and his recipe was challah. Not any challah. My challah.

I do not claim to be a master of this delightful, eggy Jewish bread and I only make it rarely. A local grocery store makes a wonderful challah and I often buy it there. The problem comes during Roshashana when challah is supposed to be circular. Every year I go to the bakery and ask them if they will make it circular, with no success. I've ordered and bought circular challah from fancy bakeries and it was expensive and not very good. So we started making our own challah.

Noah describes himself as a "bread-itarian" and challah is probably his favorite. He even says his favorite holiday is Roshashana because he can eat all the challah he wants with butter and honey all over it. The boy is in heaven. So I shouldn't have been too surprised when he announced he would bring challah into the Cultural Buffet. The thought of making enough bread for the entire fifth grade to try didn't excite me, and to be honest, I tried my best to get him to change to anything else. He insisted. The approach I then took was to convince him I should buy it. He wasn't thrilled about that option.

Last night I asked Noah if he was upset I wasn't going to make the bread. He said "no, just disappointed." Mother guilt promptly kicked in. He loves my bread so much and thinks it's so good he wants to share it, and I can't find the time to make it? Guess what I did today? All day? You guessed it. The third and fourth loaf are just finishing up now. I'm a push-over.

Just a bunch of cashews

We are an interfaith family, and it sometimes takes a week like this, the overlapping of Passover and Holy Week, for Jason and I to stop and reflect on the choices we have made. By no means is being an interfaith family unique in today's day and age, but after nearly 14 years of marriage and being a parent for almost 11, I have come to the conclusion that every interfaith family is different in their own special way and no one does it exactly the same way. There is no rule book on how to do it, and no right or wrong. Jason and I did look for a how-to manual when we first were engaged, and we bought a number of books that we hoped would guide us in what we were attempting to do, but unfortunately nothing was a perfect fit for us.

Our choice to raise our children Catholic while instilling in them a sense of their Jewish cultural heritage may not be a popular one. Conservative Christians may wonder how I can believe in Jesus, and not feel the need for Jason to convert. And on the flip side, conservative Jews likely wince at the thought that we are teaching our kids Jewish traditions and that Jason gets up every Sunday to help me and the kids get ready for church. That's OK. We only need to answer to Him. What we are teaching our children is that we have a universal and all-loving God. Daddy learned about God the Jewish way because his mom is Jewish. Mommy learned about God the Catholic way because her parents are Catholic. Does that mean one way is wrong, and the other right? Of course not. So how could we possibly teach them differently?

Tomorrow night we will celebrate Passover by retelling the story of how the Israelites escaped from slavery in Egypt, just as Jewish families have done for thousands of years. We will follow the Seder, or order of the ritual, and pray the same prayers and eat the same foods. The celebration actually brings me closer to Easter as my family performs the Seder the same way Christ did with his disciples at the Last Supper. He said the same prayers, ate the bitter herbs dipped in saltwater to commemorate the tears and pain of the Israelites, shared wine and broke matzoh. Breaking the unleavend bread and passing it around the table to share with others is what you do on Passover. I wonder how many Christians actually know that.

Describing our interfaith family and traditions is not always easy. For our kids, it is just the way things are in our home. A year or two ago they were talking about how we were Catholic Jews, and one of them declared we were Cashews. Although silly and simplistic, for now the label works. We're just a bunch of cashews.

Call the New England Journal of Medicine!

I think I have discovered a new disease that afflicts children. Selective Blindness, or SB. SB most often affects those children under the age of ten and most often occurs while walking up a flight of stairs. Somehow the child goes blind and doesn't see all of their things stacked on the stairs waiting to go upstairs. Amazing.

For example, in this picture you can see the following: pink sweater and a blankie; sneakers, slipper socks and a soccer ball notebook; and an origami book, origami projects and more notebooks.
I have made the diagnosis, it's the cure I'm struggling with!

The last first ride

The weather hit the low 60's today, and we pulled out the two-wheeler for Alanya to try. Her coordination, balance and confidence were finally all aligned and she took off. But in true 21st century fashion, none of our batteries were charged for the camera! Argh! Good thing it is daylight savings because after charging batteries all afternoon we just went out at 6pm to take this official video of the first day she rode her bike. And she's off!

F-Laura-nce Nightingale

On Wednesday night I packed up a suitcase and left for three nights to help out my sister who was having surgery on Thursday morning. It was outpatient surgery, but still a big deal having to get her into Boston early, talk to the surgeon, anesthesiologist and nurses, and understand the discharge instructions. Once I got her home I had to get her settled, fill her prescriptions, make sure she ate, drank, peed and took her pain medication.

By Friday she was feeling a whole lot better and the demands on me were not so intense. As you can see from this photo, I had an exhausting afternoon reading my book and taking a nap.

I have to admit, I did feel a smidge guilty that Jason was home juggling the kids, work, the contractor and everything else going on. The last few days were a bit of a recharge for me though not having to think about packing lunches, combing hair, or checking homework. The only responsibility I had was to be there in case my sister needed me. A rare treat for a mom with little ones. Too bad my sister had to have surgery for me to have a few days of doing nothing. I don't know any mom who gives themselves permission to do nothing.

My mom tells me a story of a good friend of hers who used to give herself a day off when she had little ones at home. One day of the week was designated as her day and she wouldn't do housework, and would even sit around in her pj's all day if that's what tickled her fancy. She'd read a book, talk with friends on the phone, or watch tv. It was all about her. After the last two days I had, I'm starting to think my mom's friend was on to something good!

Mr. Noah goes to Concord... Part 2!

Earlier this week I wrote about Noah and I going up to Concord to present his school as one of the best in New Hampshire. (Read about it here) Well, there is good news to report! The principal was called the very next day by the selection committee and was told that our presentation had been one of the best, and we were moving on to the next phase. A site visit at the school is scheduled in a few weeks. At this point, our school is considered a finalist, and this is a big deal, regardless of the final outcome.

Noah was a minor celebrity at school this week. His name was announced over the speaker during daily announcements, and he was thanked for his hard work. He also got an official school district commendation. What I think is so exciting about this is he really gets it. He understands why this is a big deal for the school, the teachers, the principal, the PTO and the city. He took it all very seriously, and is excited at the prospect of actually winning this distinction. Stay tuned!

Mr. Noah goes to Concord

A few weeks ago, the principal from school approached me and explained that they had applied for a special state-wide award given out by the state Board of Education for excellence. One school in the whole state gets chosen and is held up as this superior example of how to run an excellent school. Well, our school made it through the initial application and had been invited to present to the selection committee up in Concord. There would be a half hour presentation and 15 minutes of Q and A. As a parent, the co-president of the PTO, and a former student, I was asked if I would be part of the presentation committee.

A week later, the principal called me and said that the committee wants a student representative to present also... a student who best represents everything that is great about our school... one who is confident... involved... well-spoken and mature... they were hoping Noah would be willing to do it. She said his name kept coming up during their meetings as a great choice out of 620+ students, and did I think he'd be comfortable doing that?? I of course was thrilled, but then was more worried about how Noah would do instead of how I would do!

Noah and I had to go to school early twice last week for meetings to prepare. He was very serious about his role, and made suggestions on how he could participate and what he could talk about. We sat down and wrote up some note cards just in case he wanted them, but we knew it would really be spontaneous questions we would have to respond to.

This morning was the big day, and this picture was taken on my cell phone shortly before going in to face the selection committee. There were six of us, the principal, Noah's teacher, myself, a guidance counselor and the school reading specialist. I immediately could tell we scored points by bringing a student, as neither the school before us or after us had a child with their group. The person in charge came over and chatted with Noah and took him to get something to eat. He came back with a chocolate croissant with powdered sugar all over it. Right as we were about to start Noah is ready to start chomping on it! I leaned over and had to whisper to him to wait until the dvd presentation began, then he'd have twenty minutes, but as soon as it was done he wasn't allowed to take another bite! Then halfway through the dvd, he starts sneezing... big juicy wet ones. I had given him two tissues in advance, but had to go digging for more in my purse. It made me smile because he is so confident and mature... but he's only a kid. A kid that wants to wolf down a chocolate croissant and wipe his nose on his sleeve!

After the dvd, the questions started and the second one was for Noah! "Noah, my daughter is about your age, if I brought her to your school, what would you say to her to convince her that your school is the best school to go to in New Hampshire?" I held my breath. I have never felt it more difficult to bite my tongue, not prompt, and let him speak for himself. I was hoping his answer would be something about the after-school academic enrichment opportunities available, or any of the other great answers we had worked on. Instead he came up with his own. "I'd tell her that the relationships between the students and the teachers is really great. We all get along really well... well, most of the time (chuckles from the grown-ups here). And I'd tell her about all the fun stuff we do at school like Pizza Night, that's my favorite." Phew! He did it. Pressure off a bit.

I got my opening when a question about getting parents involved with the school came up and I gave my schpiel. All in all, everyone had a chance to spin our own specialties, and why we were picked to participate in the first place. Near the end, Noah's teacher made an opening for Noah to talk a little bit about student opportunities, and he did well again. Before I knew it, we were packing up. They thanked us for involving a student and commended him on how well he did. I commented I was more worried than he was. "You should be very proud of him, he did a great job." That he did. And I'm glad it's over!

From the mouths of babes

Consider this a late Stay Healthy Saturday post, laughter being the best thing to keep you young and healthy. Alanya was in prime form this week.

• About a year ago I had to have an abdominal hernia repaired, and at the time we explained it to 5 year old Alanya that mommy's tummy had gotten so big with all my babies that the doctor had to sew up a little hole that opened up. How else to explain it? Well apparently the other day my little angel walked up to a pregnant teacher at school and told her "My mommy's belly was so big and her three babies kicked so much that she had to go get a tummy tuck!"
• This week after taking a practice test with her spelling words, I wrote the correct spelling next to Alanya's where she had gotten one letter wrong in each word. When she realized her mistakes she said "Man! I was so close! I just misspelled them all!"
• And finally, yesterday out of the blue she said "Mom, even though I'm a righty, my lefty comes in handy a lot!"