Wake Up, Connor, It's Time for School!

It only took a matter of months’ for Connor to be over the adventure of “big kid” school. He went from telling everyone the name of his school and how he was going to be in “big kid” school to complaining about it in every breath he takes.

He hates school. He hates getting up early. He hates homework. He hates sight words. He hates having four (or three or two or even one) more day of school before every weekend. He hates Chinese. He hates work. He hates writing his letters. He hates it all.

Are we seeing a pattern?

Every single morning, I have to practically drag the kid out of bed. It starts with a fun “Wake up, Connor, it’s time for school!” This started out as a little joke we’d talk about at bed time, how I would see him in the morning and tell him this to make him excited about school. He thinks it’s funny at bedtime. Not so much at 6:35 in the morning. His standard response is always a very short, clipped “No!” that doesn’t even sound like his little voice. It’s angry, abrupt and mostly still asleep. He curls himself into a tight ball and burrows deeper under the covers. He complains the light is hurting his eyes and pulls a pillow over his head.

Every. Single. Day.

Clearly, a morning person he is not. And I honestly have no idea where he gets that from. Really.

It takes quite a while to get him up and moving. I’ve even resorted to making him brush his teeth right after he goes to the bathroom, because I can’t be certain he’ll finish breakfast in time to brush his teeth before we have to leave for school. Most days he ends up with dry cereal and unfinished milk in the truck on the way to school. He’s too busy sulking on the couch about being awake early to bother with eating while we’re at home.

Then there’s the issue of his milk. He announced a few weeks back that he doesn’t like white milk – that it’s disgusting. He has proceeded not to drink it at all. He asks for chocolate milk. Then he begs for it. And when he doesn’t get it, he drinks water and complains about not having chocolate milk.

And then he complains again when it’s time to go. He complains about putting on his jacket. He complains about carrying his backpack. He complains about the cold. About the dark. About the rain. About anything and everything he can possibly think of.

But once we start driving, his better nature returns. He’s suddenly Mr. Chatty. He starts talking as though he’s breathing. He asks a thousand questions between our house and school, you know, the 15-minute drive.

Why do you have your lights on? Whose house is that? Why are there trees? What are flowers for? Why does it rain? Why do we have to stop? What’s the traffic light for? Can you walk here? Can cars crash into trees? Into houses? What happens when you crash? Do you flip over? Why is that light flashing? Do you have your seatbelt on? How much further ‘til we get to school? Why can’t I ride the bus? Why don’t brothers start early like I do? Why do brothers still have on their ‘jamas? How come they get to wear their Crocs? Did you remember my Box Tops? What about my library book? Where’s Daddy? Why is he at work? Why is fire school over before my school? How much longer ‘til Spring? How much longer ‘til school’s over? When am I gonna play baseball again? Do you remember that swimming pool with the big slide? How come we haven’t been there in a while? I’ve never been to Poppy John’s (his version of Papa John’s, which he’s confusing with Pizza Hut where his book it certificate gives him a free pan pizza).

And on and on and on ….

And then it’s my turn to be crabby. I’m tired. I’ve been forced to wake up at least one, sometimes three, sleepy boys who need to be forced to go to the bathroom, who need some sort of breakfast and milk, and who need at least shoes and jackets to leave the house.

I, too, am not a morning person. I’d rather have the sulky kid back there than the chatty one. I can’t play one thousand questions at 7 o’clock in the morning. I just can’t.

And so it goes, round and round, every school day. Sigh. Just twelve more years to go, right?

Balloon!

Sensory Heaven, originally uploaded by cheryl.

One more reason our boys love their teachers and their school - balloons! One of the teachers is expecting her first little one soon, and she keeps getting lots of balloons at her baby showers. And because she knows how much our boys LOVE balloons, they keep coming home to our house.

Sawyer actually managed to keep this one away from Xander. He claimed it for his own, and Xander was actually content to let him have it. Perhaps he doesn't like lions.

Special thoughts go out to Mrs. R as she takes time off to welcome her new baby! Sawyer is going to miss you while you're gone!

Changes ...

As far as Connor is concerned, Daddy is a builder. That's been his job his whole life, and then some. But with three little boys and a wife at home, and the current state of the economy, changes had to happen. Something more certain, preferrably with good health insurance and long-term benefits like retirement, is what our family needed.

A little over a year ago, Josh began the application process for the local fire department. It's been a long process, beginning with written and physical tests, reference checks, interviews and more interviews. After about a year, the recruit class was selected, and Josh was both lucky and talented enough to be one of those twenty-five.

For the past sixteen weeks, Daddy has been at "fire school" as Connor calls it. At class by 7 o'clock in the morning and not home until nearly 5 o'clock every afternoon. Every day consisted of long hours of studying, practicing, drilling, testing and physcial training.

Building was put on hold, because training was a full-time job in and of itself. They even did things like burn down houses (donated for said purpose) to further their training ...

Last week that process ended. The recruit class graduated in a ceremony attended by the local mayor, the upper levels of the fire department, members of city council, and lots of family and friends. The recruits became official firemen (probationary for the first year, but still official)!

Now, every three days, Daddy is a fireman. The other two, he'll still get to be a builder, if he decides he still wants to. Fireman Daddy. Builder Daddy. Connor thinks he has the coolest dad ever!

Adventures of a Big Boy

Long weekends usually mean a fun trip for Connor. This past weekend was no exception. The boys were out of school on Monday for President's Day, which meant Connor had three whole days away from school. Grandma and Grandpa put in a request for him to accompany them to the Smoky Mountains for the long weekend.

Early Friday, Grandma and Grandpa drove up. They were helping me get the twins to and from school and also picking up Connor from school so that I could go to Josh's graduation from the fire academy. It was at 11 o'clock Friday afternoon, right in the middle of the school day.

After school on Friday, Connor loaded up into Grandpa's truck and said "Bye-bye, see you later!"

We were actually worried he might not get to go at all. He had been feeling a bit under the weather since the middle of last week - not actively sick, but not completely well either. He had a little cough that kept getting worse, he wasn't eating much, and he was sleeping a lot. All bad signs. We told him he might have to stay home. We even hinted Sawyer or Xander might like to go.

Not surprisingly, he woke up Friday morning and proclaimed himself well. He was fibbing, of course, because he still had the same basic symptoms. But we let it go. Grandma and Grandpa were not alarmed by them, and decided to go ahead and take him along.

So he spent three days in the mountains with them. They went swimming at the indoor pool at the condo complex. They made the requisite trip to the OshKosh outlet store for clearance items for next year. They picked up Krispy Kreme doughnuts and ate at Connor's favorites like Chick-fil-A and McDonald's. They even ventured on one of the shorter hikes (just a few miles). They spent quite a bit of time at the track - a place with go carts and mini golf and kiddie rides.

Connor slept, a lot. He ate a little. But he had a great time.

It's a rough life, he says, but someone has to live it.

Bling, Bling

Our toy closet is filled with all kinds of toys. Legos, blocks, Hot Wheels, you name it, it's probably in there. We have so many toys that we actually rotate them around, keeping about half out and the other half in the closet, simply so that the whole house is not overrun with toys. It very easily could be.

Did the boys want to play with any of those real, normal toys? No, they pulled out the bin that I refer to as "trinkets and trash," the bin that has the assorted toys and items picked up in fast food kids' meals, school rewards, birthday parties and other random events. Xander was all about the Mardi Gras beads and the fake heart ring. It was appropriate dinner attire, apparently. (You might also remember it as part of Connor's Halloween costume a few years back, when he was Captain Jack Sparrow.)