Gingersleep… or not

Sleep is in high demand amongst the Gingers. Last night the boys headed to bed around 8:30pm; we have this silly assumption that one day they’ll put their actual beds to good use. One slept on the floor of his room while the other made a nest of the pile of unfolded clean laundry (don’t judge) on the floor in my bedroom. When I come upstairs for what I expect will be a wonderful night’s sleep, I nearly trip on Ginger3 and decide to go check on everyone else. Ginger1 is comfortably sleeping in her own bed. Ginger2 found a spot amongst her dirty laundry on the floor of her own bedroom, and Ginger4 found his way to his bed. Off to bed I went. Around 1, my internal clock wakes me up to drag a groggy Ginger4 to the bathroom. After successfully convincing him the toilet is a better target than the sink, he heads back to bed, this time on his bedroom floor. I mosey back to bed to a snoring Oldest Ginger (I won’t tell you who that one is specifically, but you can use your best guess!). And it was useless– I couldn’t fall asleep. I get up and head to my favorite second dwelling– the couch downstairs. On my way, I decide to check on the other gingers, discovering Ginger1’s empty bed. What the heck!? I look around the house, unable to find her. I head back into my room to find her snuggled next to Ginger3 on the pile of clean laundry. (The Gingerdog likes this spot too– maybe I am missing out on something!– again, no judging!) Instead of going downstairs, I resolve to sleep in Ginger1’s bed. A short time later, right after I fell back to sleep, Ginger1 flips on the bedroom light. (Have I mentioned they all sleep with the lights on, too?) She crawls into her bed with me, smooshing me against the cold wall. I can’t sleep with the lights on, nor can I sleep against a cold wall (where, by the way, I am closer to GingerDad’s snoring), so up I went to greet the day and drink a whole carafe of coffee.


The “D” Word

Jack (pointing at Cubmaster Dan Colpi): I know that guy. He ate a worms and crickets at Ryan’s meeting!
Me: Yep, he did!
Jack: Mom, why would he eat worms and crickets?
Me: Because his Boy Scout Pack hit a goal with their popcorn sales.
Jack: Ryan sold popcorn? Holy Crap!!
Me: Well, Ryan didn’t sell this year, but where did you learn “Holy Crap?”
Jack (casually): Oh, there’s a kid at school who teaches me bad words. He taught me the “s” word, the “d” word, and the “f” word.
Me: Hmm, what’s the “d” word?
Jack: I already told you! “Holy Crap!!” “Holy Crap!”
Me: Ooooh… hmmm. Well, it’s not a nice word. Maybe you should tell your friend to teach you nice words.
Jack: (In the backseat working on his “h” sound). Well, now that I think of it, I am not sure why we call it the “d” word when it doesn’t start with “d.” That’s dumb!

The fighter

This picture was taken a few days after Emma was born. In a state of shock after delivering a 1 lb 12 oz baby, I was afraid to look at her and certainly didn’t want to hold her. It was like my maternal instincts hadn’t kicked in yet— the wires, the masks, the tubes were so intimidating. Sadly, I didn’t know my baby at all— I was so thankful the NICU nurses knew her rhythms and helped me learn what she was all about. And I was so grateful that my whisper, quietly echoing against the walls of the incubator, was enough to sooth her in those early rough days. All these years later, 11 to be exact, I am still a student of a fighting micro preemie and the nurses who taught me so much. Happy Birthday, kid!

God Bless Elementary Teachers Everywhere

I wasn’t cut out for this. I wasn’t cut out for this….

I can be pretty impulsive, so when my almost five-year-old, not quite ready for Kindergarten, expressed an interest in learning to read, I jumped on it. Homeschool curriculum purchased, I finally had the time and was ready to teach my last child to read!

We’re on day 59, and though the connections are finally being made, we hit an impasse today…


Me: Jack, let’s look at the picture. What is going on in this picture?

Jack: The girl is feeding those stinky animals.

Me: OK, let’s sound out those words.

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feeeeeeds theeeee chickens.

Me: Not quite. Let’s try again. Use your finger to point to the words.

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn is feeeeeeding theeeee chickens.

Me: Are you sure that last word is chicken?

Jack: That’s what it looks like.

Me: Well, this picture is deceiving, Jack. Let’s sound out the last word.

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn is feeeeeeding theeeee chickens.

Me: Jack, there’s only four words, and here’s a hint– the last one isn’t chickens.

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feeeeeds theeeee chickens.

Me: Jack, it’s past tense. Let’s pretend it happened yesterday.

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feddd theeeee chickens.

Me: Great correction. Ok, let’s ignore the picture. Let’s just sound out the last word.

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn is feeeeeeding theeeee chickens.

I literally smack my forehead and Jack starts laughing uncontrollably.

—(a half hour has passed, I have planned next week’s lessons and am considering a beer at this point)–

Me: Are you ready to stop laughing and get these four words down? I am not asking you to pretend you know the words. I want you to sound out the words on the page. And by now you should know “Jan” and “the,” so you don’t have to sound those out. You can do this– there are only four words.

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feddd theeeee chickens.

Me: Are you sure that last word is chickens?

Jack: Hhheeeennns.

Me: YES!!! Put it all together now!

Jack: Jjjaaahnnn feddd theeeee chickens.