This is Not a Barbecue!

So, we went to a barbecue last weekend at my son's pre-school, Stumptown Kids, ran by the amazing and hysterical Jenn, whom I will talk about more in a future post.

(Stumptown, for my readers who do not live in Oregon, is a nickname for Portland.)

The barbecue was a blast, but I think maybe Trey was a little tired.

There were lots of kids there. And trees to climb. And toys. And even a musical performance. Here is a picture of Macy's awesome piano teacher Sarah. (I'll tell you more about her later too!)

I thought Macy was having a great time. Here's proof, a picture of her with a new friend and a can of pomegranate soda.

Now's the time to mention that this was a vegetarian potluck. 

Meaning, the party host Jenn is a vegetarian and although it wasn't expressly spelled out on the E-vite, most of the attendees just knew to bring a meatless dish. 

In fact, I'm not even sure where I picked up the term "barbecue" to describe this party. But I must have used it and therefore set up an image in Macy's mind about what would be served at this shindig. Because she completely ignored the long table of covered dishes, and I realize now it was because she was holding out for the good stuff. The hot dogs and hamburgers.

So, after a couple hours of chasing tired Trey around, we decided to pack it in and leave. John grabbed Trey and headed to the car, and I found Macy right in the middle of a huge group of adults and kids.

I leaned down to her and whispered, "Macy, we're going to head home now." Wide-eyed, she threw her head back and shrieked, "What about the FOOD? Where's the barbecue??!!"

Quietly, I said, "The food is over there on the table, Macy. This is a vegetarian party."

With that Macy declared loudly, very loudly, "This Is Not A Barbecue!" And you could have heard a pin drop. Even the kids were embarrassed for me. 

So, we went home, grilled a hot dog, and caught the last 20 minutes of Mad Men. I'm KIDDING.

We did evolve from monkeys right? So, it makes sense ...

I have known for a long time that my son is a climber. (Here's where I would insert a picture of him climbing out of his crib at 12 months, if I had one.)

He's just really good at it. I am not sure how this skill will serve him later in life ... 

... but for now he seems to be having a lot of fun just climbing trees.

And I am having fun taking pictures of him climbing trees.

  

And using fancy editing software to give the illusion of an angelic glow.

  

But I swear to you I did not edit these pictures. The situation is every bit as dangerous as it appears.

Yes, that's my only son Trey. Up in the very top of that tall tree. 

Wearing his helmet (NOT because I had him wear it before tree climbing, but because he didn't stop to remove it when he hopped off his tricycle to run and climb a tree).

And what does it say about me (and my mothering instincts) that I ran to get a camera before rescuing him?

They Don't Call Her Mrs. Awesome for Nothing

Tonight is open house at Macy's school, and I have to say, I just love Macy's second grade teacher.

Not just because Macy adores her, hangs on her every word, and seems to be getting smarter by the day.

Not just because she clearly loves teaching, and her students call her Mrs. Awesome. (Her last name is two syllables and starts with an A.)

Not just because she is totally accessible to parents for every little question and concern, and we have many.

Mainly, I love her, because she has my back on this Mad Men situation, and knew just how to fix everything.

Letting your seven-year-old watch "one" episode of Mad Men is clearly a lot more responsible than letting her watch "every" episode.

Thank you, Mrs. Awesome.

You Only Get One Chance to Make a First Impression

So, we moved to Portland this summer, remember? And everything is going great. Macy started 2nd grade this week, and we’re settling into the back-to-school routine very nicely.

I really like Macy’s new school. I’ve already met a few of the moms in her class, and everyone is really nice.

Ok, so what’s the point? Where’s the punch line?

Well, this morning I walked Macy to school and I could tell she and I were starting to get the hang of things. Backpack on hook. Check. Lunchbox in lunchbox bin. Check. I waved and said hello to a few of the moms. This is going great, I thought.

“Mommy,” Macy interrupted my happy thoughts, “Come look!” And with that she steered me to a bright blue construction-papered wall showcasing the children’s first writing project, “What I Did This Summer”.

Macy’s essay was pretty short. There was no mention of the cross-country move, saying good-bye to her friends in Florida, her cool new bedroom or the great friends she’s made in our new neighborhood. She left out that she rode on a plane, learned to ride a bike, lost two teeth, went hiking and read her first Beverly Cleary book.

It started with, “This summer I visited my Grandma and Grandpa and we watched every episode of Mad Men.” There was a little more to it, but I couldn’t really focus in on any details after that intro. The girl really knows how to grab her reader.

First off, way to get off on the right foot with those new moms I was trying to make a good impression on. I’m pretty sure because this is Portland that a lot of them don’t have tvs because they are always outdoors doing cool extreme outdoor sports with their kids. Or composting. Or sculpting.

Second, it’s not true. She doesn’t watch Mad Men. With all the “smoking and drinking at work” scenes, this show is clearly for children aged nine and over, and Macy is just seven.

I'm No Don Draper, But ...

I got a job. An actual full-time, "must go every day into an office" job, at a local agency.

I'll be working in client service (think Peter from Mad Men) and doing some writing (think Peggy from Mad Men).

So, last week I put my slippers away, dusted off my work clothes, filled up my gas tank and went in for my first week. And I loved it.

It's been six years since I've worked in an office environment Monday through Friday. Of course I will miss my flexible schedule, picking my kids up from school almost every day, and being my own boss, but there are definitely perks to having an office job.

Such as:
1. Because I leave my house to go into an office every day, people actually recognize that I have a job.

2. I no longer have to live where I work, and work where I live.

3. Unless it's "bring your child to work day", there will be no more interruptions during conference calls.

4. I can push away from my desk at the end of the day, go home, and not think about my work until the next day (unless I choose to).

5. My home office can now house bills, report cards, warranties and other important household documents.

Going back to work reminds me of how I've missed the everyday part of having a job;  group lunches, water cooler talk, staff meetings, funny email trains, leftovers from catered lunches, inside jokes, funny colleagues, bosses to try to please, regularly scheduled paychecks, reliable and affordable health insurance.

So the content of my posts will shift slightly as I layer yet one more monumental change into the mix. But I'm still going to strive to find the humor in all of it.

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