Upside down, inside out and just plain discombobulated

We had our parent/teacher conference today with Andrew's preschool teacher. Mrs. Polly. I have to admit I was a little nervous. School has been easy for Sydney and so her conferences continue to be uneventful. She enjoys school and is good at it. I tend to think of her as a Cadillac on cruise control. She's happy to go, does her work, gets good grades and completes her homework without much encouragement.

Andrew goes to school willingly, most days, but prefers being home slaying imaginary dragons with his swords. And sitting him down to practice repetitive tasks such as writing is far worse than pulling teeth. I have decided that this is the marked difference between girls and boys.

Going into the conference we knew his writing had improved but was still in need of a lot of work. At the beginning of the year he would write his name backwards and upside down. But as time went on he seemed to move past that.

Friday he came home from school eager to show me his "U" book. "Look mom. Look at my U book. Didn't I do a good job writing my name?"




At first glance my immediate thought was "No. I've seen you do better." But then I took a closer look.



Then I held it up to the bathroom mirror.


And realized it was the perfect mirror image.

We discussed this with his teacher. She is not really sure why, or how for that matter, he does this but she suspects he may outgrow it.

Then she showed us his assessment test scores and some of the papers that went along with it. One of the tasks he was asked to do was to draw a picture of a boy or a girl. She wrote his name at the top of the paper and placed it in front of him.

He drew a boy AND a girl for good measure and drew them perfectly upside down.

He also had to complete a pattern.

And he did. Perfectly upside down. Notice his name? He has a pattern going alright.

We have decided he either has a very interesting gift or an undiagnosed learning disability. I tend to think he has a knack for looking at things from a different angle. :-)

You know you live in a small town when.....

You head to the voting pole at the Community Center for Lexington's consolidated election to, well, vote. And, because you don't keep up with politics, you really have no idea who is running for what. But you planned on taking careful consideration of the choices set forth on the ballet to try and make an uneducated guess based on who you know. Only to be completely baffled by the fact that there is only one individual running in just about every category! One. Uno. I became overwrought with excitement when I came across the section that had two names listed. Only to be let down by the directions telling me to "vote for no more than two of the individuals listed below". What? There are ONLY two. And the section that had four names listed had directions instructing me to "vote for no more than four of the individuals listed below". Huh? Yup, we ain't in Florida no more!

**One more thing....note the absence of pictures in this post. I, once again, made the conscious decision to remove my camera from my purse before I got out of the car assuming there would be nothing inside the Community Center worthy of a snap shot. I would now give anything to have a photo of that ballet which just affirms that my camera needs to be surgically attached to my hand**

A Rough Start to a Springish Day

Yesterday was the kids' first day back to school after Spring Break. Some took that news better than others. Sydney, who loves school, was eager to get up, get ready and get going. Of course, spending the better part of her Spring Break sick on the couch could have easily been her motivator.


Andrew, on the other hand, was not a happy camper. He was upset that he had to wake up early and even more upset when he found out we would be dropping him off at the local day care provider for his ride to school. He stomped his way out to the car dragging his backpack behind him and then stomped his way into the babysitters house. He made it very clear he was not happy with us.


When I picked him up from school he had a good deal of skin missing from the left side of his face and the makings of a really nice shiner. While stomping out to the babysitters car he tripped over his backpack and well, it appears the driveway won.

It was a chilly, windy day so we avoided going outside until we had too. Sydney had soccer practice at one of my favorite spots in Normal. The grounds of the former Illinois Soldiers and Sailors Children's Home. The orphanage has long since closed but all the buildings are still there and are now being rented by a variety of small businesses. I just love the architecture, the history and the idea that many moons ago hundreds of orphaned children used the very fields Sydney kicks her soccer ball on for various recreational activities.

So a rough start to the end of Andrew's Spring Break and, what seems like, a never ending winter. But just as we were about to leave I caught a glimmer of yellow in my peripheral vision and could not believe my eyes. Amongst the dead rose bushes, nestled underneath a bush still in hibernation was this beauty:

A clear indication that better days are to come.

Andrew's struggle to be "bigger"

Potty training did not come as easy for Andrew as it had for Sydney. He is five now and is still struggling at night. Every night he wears a pull-up, something that has really not bothered him until recently. I, of course, have spent a great deal of time feeling like a failure as a parent.

We have restricted his liquid intake hours before bedtime. He uses the restroom before he goes to bed. Every night as we tuck him in we make sure he understands that, should he feel the need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, he can wake one of us up without recourse. And yet, every morning is different. Some days he wakes up completely dry. Other mornings he wakes up soaked completely through the pull-up, jammies and bed sheets. It completely baffles me. How does he not feel wet and cold in the middle of the night?

But he soooo wants to be "bigger". Apparently, in his mind he won't truly be "bigger" until he can sleep without a pull-up...like his sister. How sad really because I believe it is something beyond his control. I think he sleeps soundly enough that he lacks the ability to wake when he would normally feel the urge.

So last week he asked me when he would be able to sleep without the pull-up and so we made a deal. "If you can go five nights with a dry pull-up, you can sleep without one." He was sooo excited about this plan and for the first three mornings the pull-up was dry and he would remind me how many days he had left. The fourth and fifth mornings were a different story and the disappointment and embarrassment in his face were almost too much to take. In my mind I had figured five consecutive days but I just did not have the heart to make him start over.

It has been seven days since our deal started and this morning was the fifth dry pull-up. So tonight we all celebrated as he put his jammies on over his bare bottom. I tucked him in with fingers crossed and a little bit of hope that when he wakes in the morning he finally feels "bigger".

Another "What do you say when" moment...

This afternoon Andrew took off running to the bathroom with a very concerned look on his face. After a few minutes I could hear grunting and groaning so I called out: "Are you ok in there?" To which he answered, "Ya mom, I'm just drop'n the kids off at the pool!"

Houston.....we have a problem!

Two years ago my family and I left tree frog infested Florida and moved to a very small town bordered by lush cornfields. We live in an old house. Across from...you got it, a cornfield. We were warned early on that the harvest, coupled with cold weather, forced mice and other critters to seek shelter elsewhere. We were warned that it is not uncommon to have a mouse or two or three or four in your house during the winter. "No problem" I thought. "We have a cat!" Truthfully I was just happy I no longer had to deal with tree frogs.

So the first winter came and went without incident. I figured our cat did a pretty good job keeping them at bay. I made it my duty to point out to my cat hating father-in-law that cats ARE good for something.

This winter has been a completely different story. I'm now feeling like word has gotten out in the mouse community that the cat living in the Kunkel house is much like that Tom from Tom and Jerry. Only 15 lbs heavier.

Including today, we have had a total of six mice. The cat has killed one. Sorry, but I consider that an infestation! This is why I cleaned Meijers out of mouse traps on Sunday. This is also why I sat the cat down and explained to him that he'd better get his act together.

The Sound of Victory

Game 7. A nail biter to the very end. The Lady Aggies found themselves tied at the beginning of the sixth quarter. Sydney took a break during the fifth quarter but as soon as that buzzer went off her butt shot off the chair like a bottle rocket.

Flying out the gait and dribbling the ball like a wild animal, she made several failed attempts at making a basket in her rush to advance her team's lead. But then her mother told her to take a deep breath in a not so quite voice from clear across the court.

And with one minute left in the game...

She listened to her mother...

and took the last shot.....

to help her team win their very first game this season.

You should always listen to your mother (even if she knows nothing about basketball).