Off They Go

School has begun around these parts.

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As part of our back-to-school prep work, Bob and I took the boys to a sporting goods store to buy them much-needed new sneakers. We found a pair pretty quickly for Charlie but finding anything for Henry was proving problematic. Nothing seemed to fit. After searching through several areas of the children’s section, Bob finally looked up at me and said, “There’s nothing here past a youth 7. What comes after a youth 7?” I thought for a minute, audibly gasped, and replied, “Hot ham. I think it’s men’s sizes.”

MEN’S SIZES. Henry wears the sizes of men. When the kind sporting goods store employee walked over and asked if he could help us find anything, I yelled, “MY LITTLE BABY BOY. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? ABOUT YAY HIGH. HE LIKES DUMPTRUCKS. HE IS NOT HERE. I CANNOT FIND HIM. WHAT HAS HAPPENED?” No, I didn’t actually say that even though I was screaming it internally. Instead I said, “Hey, we were totally unprepared to spend $150.00 on men’s sneakers for our 11-year-old. What do you have in a men’s size 8 that does not cost so many dollars.” We eventually found a pair that worked for everyone in the ADULT SECTION of the shoe department and now I trip on a giant pair of shoes whenever I walk in the front door and it’s like a fully-formed grown-up lives with us now instead of a newly minted sixth grader.

Middle school is a whole new world but Henry is game.

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Charlie. Oh, Charlie. Always disappointed that school is a thing that continues to exist. Our good buddy spent a portion of his summer with a tutor helping him improve his reading and math skills. Although his tutor was complimentary of his behavior, I pretty much surmised that Charlie was merely tolerating this exercise in summer schooling.

Charlie also spent a portion of the summer at his elementary school being tested by an amazing team of specialists that are determined to figure out how Charlie learns best. I am easily overcome with emotion (not really a challenge for me, ever) when thinking about the road we’ve taken to get to this point with Charlie. His endless frustration with certain concepts, the tears shed over – and sometimes directly on – his homework, the crestfallen look on his face when he would wake up in the morning and I had to tell him, “Yep, it’s a school day, bud.” I am hoping all of these things – understanding, abilities, attitude – improve dramatically in third grade. With the school switch we made this past spring, he is finally in a place with the resources to help him. I’m so hopeful they can find the key that makes everything click for Charlie.

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Like a prisoner in solitary, Millie has been notching marks in her bedroom walls, counting down the days until we let her out of this hellhole and send her for some formal education.

Millie’s enthusiasm for kindergarten knows no bounds. She arrives home with stories of the friends she is making, the kids that misbehaved on the bus, stacks of be-stickered worksheets to proudly hang on the refrigerator, and an eagerness to do homework that she does not actually have. Unfortunately for Millie, they do not assign homework in kindergarten and this has not sat well with the child that has patiently waited two years for homework. So, we just kind of make things up or Millie finds an old workbook to write in and we all pretend that, yes, my goodness, she has so much homework to do!

She is having a delightful time and that makes me so very happy.

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A Brief Visual History of Bob’s Trip to the Grocery Store

This one time, in early 2004, as an unusually strong winter storm threatened high snow accumulation throughout the D.C. metro area, I sent Bob to the grocery store. We needed to procure supplies in case we were stranded by weather. Bob was gone for a good bit, stuck in long lines, but eventually returned with frozen turkey meatballs and one (1) container of Gatorade. That was it. Nothing else. Just the turkey meatballs and the Gatorade.

I haven’t sent Bob to the grocery store since.

Now, for a ridiculous number of reasons, the past few weeks around our house have been absolutely frenetic. There have just simply not been enough hours in the day and more than a few times I have bemoaned the lack of even a hot second to sit down. So, when Bob asked me, while I was headed out the door to work – AGAIN – this past weekend, if I wanted him to do the grocery shopping, I immediately thought to myself, “No. No, I do not want him to do the grocery shopping. Ever.” But, I’m really exhausted, see? So, what I actually said was, “That would be great. That would be so great.”

Friends, it was totally not great.IMG_0862Despite decades of successful half and half use, for inexplicable reasons, Bob brought home dairy free coconut milk creamer. To no one’s surprise (but Bob’s – Bob was surprised), this dairy free coconut milk creamer was absolutely awful and Bob had to start completely over with another cup of coffee. When I asked him why in the world he purchased it to begin with he said he had, “read an article that said that cow’s milk will kill ‘ya.”

IMG_0861I’m going to take a wild guess and say that the fact that Bob shopped with the kids played a role in this ill-advised purchase. Also, and as an aside, chocolate does not improve this product in any way, General Mills. Even the kids reluctantly agreed.

IMG_0864Despite being fully aware of my lifetime of hate directed towards food makers that automatically combine cinnamon with raisins (WHY ARE THEY CONSIDERED SO INSEPARABLE), Bob purchased cinnamon raisin bread. What Bob did not buy: regular bread. Of any kind. None bread. But! He bought deli turkey so insert that one “confused face” emoji here.

IMG_0868There are 18 fish sticks in this package. Eighteen tiny fish sticks for a family of five. Go ahead and do the math on that.

IMG_0866I know what you’re thinking! This might make up for the fish sticks only… Bob didn’t buy any hot dog buns. Again, just the hot dogs. No buns.

IMG_0863I would never in a million years buy this mostly because I will just eat the cookie dough right from the package and do not even pretend that you are better than me because you would do the exact same thing. “DO NOT CONSUME RAW COOKIE DOUGH” Don’t tell me how to live my life, Nestle.

IMG_0867I mean, WHAT EVEN. Who buys Neapolitan ice cream? There are three flavors in this package and only one is going to get consumed. The only thing remaining between vanilla and strawberry will be the echo of regret. Incredulous, I picked this up from the freezer, looked at Bob and asked, “What is this, 1972?” He basically agreed that the last time he had had Neapolitan ice cream was when his mom had bought it for him.

IMG_0869An inexplicably large number of fresh lemons. Like, this is only a representative sample of the amount of lemons he purchased. So, sure. Why not.

What Bob did not buy at the grocery store that we actually needed: milk, REAL half and half, aforementioned bread products, cereal fit for consumption by anyone three years of age or older, orange juice, peanut butter, chips or crackers, pasta, fresh vegetables, fresh fruit, cheese, glorious cheese. But, there’s no need to worry. I went grocery shopping at 8:00 last night after doing all of the other things so that was super convenient.

Want to come over for strawberry ice cream? Maybe some lemonade? Can I interest you in a single fish stick?