Last Bits of Summer

The end of summer is not a painful event for me.  I anticipate the crispness, the foodie-ness, and the sweater-ness of Fall all year long.  But I will miss watching the kids do some of the things they loved so much this year.

 

 We planted a few vegetable plants this year.  I am a horrible gardener, and I do not say that lightly.  I don't have the patience for it (which may or may not have something to do with the fact that it is monopolized by four little beings in my house, heaven help us).  What I mean is, I love having the plants in theory, but I am not meticulous enough for much to flourish.  As a side note, I did have four lovely little herb plants that were doing great, until I went to Utah for five weeks during a blistering Iowa heat wave, which effectively turned them into very usable tinder.

We began Summer with twelve tomato plants.  Yes, I realize that is overkill.  But I was hoping that after losing 1) the ones I neglect, and 2) the ones our local critters eat, we would still have enough for me to can a few quarts of stewed tomatoes, tomato sauce, or salsa.

After one month, the deer ate all but four.  One of those four never really took off.  Another turned into a behemoth monster which uprooted its sturdy cage and grew large, beautiful, green tomatoes that only began to think about ripening after we experienced our first frosts.  What we had left was a cheerful cherry tomato plant, gangly and awkward as a fifteen year old who is not yet used to his stretching body, and a grape tomato plant which half-heartedly produced some delicious bell-shaped fruit.

What you see here is our dandy cherry tomato plant (this picture was taken at the end of September, so the plants have declined significantly from their peak).  I did not expect it to grow so well.  Apparently the deer aren't as interested in plants so close to the house, and the soil conditions must have been perfect.  I am hoping that one day Everett doesn't come to me and explain that this was the spot he used nature's restroom when I wasn't looking (but all the neighbors were, of course).

Everett and Ashley came out here almost daily to pick and savor the juicy sweetness of a sun-ripened tomato.  Sometimes they'd pick a small bowl-full but interestingly enough, it was usually empty by the time I got to it.

They never tired of it, as far as I could tell.  It was these moments that made pulling weeds (all three times, ahem) worth it to me.  I had grand visions of Everett pulling weeds to earn money this summer, since we haven't yet started him on an allowance.  As it turns out, there is nothing Everett wants badly enough to have to pull weeds for it.  

Everett is holding a red pepper from another one of our plants.  The peppers did well but were a little slow to get going.  We had red peppers and purple peppers and rarely did any of them make it all the way into my kitchen.  Somehow, I didn't mind.

Occasionally, when William was not napping and when he was fast enough to compete with the older kids, he'd proudly score a treat as well.  

The kids loved to goof off with the veggies.  We grew yellow squash, zuchinnis, and cucumbers as well. (I use the term "grew" loosely.) Someone tell me:  Why do so many people have these veggies coming out of their ears but we only ended up with a few?

Oh, right.  My horrible gardening skills.  I will have to sharpen up and plan better for next year.

The kids also had fun digging, burying things, and making rivers and fairy villages in this huge dirt mound.  

Joel spread a lot of mulch in our yard but I never wanted him to cover up this pile.  The dirt that abundantly seasoned my kids' hand-picked veggies, worked its way under their fingernails, and turned to sludge at the bottom of our bathtub was too valuable to lose.  

Mostly, though, I loved the dirt pile because William loved it for playing cars.  He could entertain himself for hours out there on any given day; making car tracks, moving construction vehicles, and burrowing buses never stopped giving him a little thrill.

Homecoming Parade

We are lucky enough to live within walking distance of our local high school.  So when it was time for the homecoming parade, which Everett had heard all about at his school and was dying to see, we trekked on over and found a good place to watch.

I painted the school colors on the kids' cheeks.  They thought this was fantastically cool, even though my lame attempts at face painting are really not all that fancy.

Everett was thrilled to be there.  The air was brisk and it was one of the first days we could really smell autumn in the air.  

We had a few minutes to wait before the parade came by, so the kids had fun playing catch with various items.

We also had fun being a little silly!

William brought along a few cars (surprise, surprise!) and was happy to play with them for a little while.

The parade floats were not intricate or fancy or expensive, but the kids didn't mind and everyone still cheered when the homecoming royalty came along in their corvette and mustang convertibles.

Of course, the parade floats were nothing compared to the excitement of discovering the participants threw candy out to the spectators.

We were at the end of the route, so our kids didn't score much candy, but they were unaware of the inequality and were thrilled anyway.  And, when I heard later that some kids came away from the parade with pillowcases full of candy, I was relieved I didn't have to contend with so many sweets when we got home.

James was pretty happy the whole time.  I will be sad when my kids are all too old to snuggle with me when we are out .

James was pretty intent on watching all the big trucks come by.  It was fun to see him so interested.

Of course, other than the times William was sucking his thumb, no one could match him for enthusiasm.

The police cars were his favorite.  William loves to point out police cars wherever we go.  His exuberance is contagious.

I think the parade made the biggest impression on our little William.  We went home, had some hot vanilla milk (it was a pinterest experiment but wasn't great), and the kids went to bed happy.  It was the perfect start to fall.

Miss Ashley Goes To Preschool

Ashley started preschool last month.  It was an exciting day for her!  Unfortunately, Ashley's first day was everyone else's third day.  She woke up vomiting early in the same morning she was supposed to start school.  I had to keep her home for two days, which meant that since they started on a Thursday, she had to wait until the following Tuesday to experience her very first day of school.

By the time we actually got to that morning, she was quite annoyed that I felt it was necessary to make her stand for pictures.

This is the best picture I took.

All the rest look more like this.

William misses having Ashley around, and tells her so every day when we pick her up.  "I missed you, Ashley!" he giggles jubilantly as she climbs into her car seat.

Ashley seems to really enjoy preschool.  She greatly dislikes discussing the details of the day and will expel a groan of exasperation anytime someone asks her what they did that day.  But she is always happy to go and is proud of the projects she brought home.

I strongly considered keeping Ashley home this year and doing preschool lessons with her myself, the way I did with the kids last year, but I knew the socialization would be good exercise for someone who is so naturally an introvert.  I've had a couple of conversations with her that really illustrate this characteristic of hers.

Shortly after the first day of school, I asked Ashley how it was.
"Fine," she replied, then said, "There are too many kids."


"Who do you like to play with at school?"  I asked one day.
"Nobody.  I just play by myself,"  Ashley answered.
"You do, huh?  Do you like to play by yourself?"  I wanted to know.
"Yeah."
"Does it make you feel happy or sad to play by yourself?"  I further questioned, hoping for a clarified response.
"Happy," Ashley answered matter-of-factly.

That was enough for me.  If she was happy, I wasn't worried.

One day I dropped Ashley off late for school.  When I opened the door to the playroom so she could join her class for their beginning segment, I heard a few girls shout excitedly, "Ashley!!!"  I asked Ashley about this later.

"Who were those girls who were so happy to see you this morning when I dropped you off?"
Ashley gave me an exasperated sigh.  "Nobody."  She stated decisively.  A shy smile played at the corners of her lips, betraying her real feelings.

Another time, when I was talking about Ashley's day with her as I tucked her in bed, she told me soberly, "All of those kids in my class make me feel frightened."


All of Ashley's comments have given me great opportunities to discuss some of these issues and set small goals with her.  Ashley's goal this morning was to find out someone's name and report it to me after school, and she was so proud of herself when she said not one, but two names.  We were able to talk about what to do when Ashley told me one of her classmates rubs Ashley's head all the time ("It's so annoying to me, Mom!" Ashley had said.).  Or what to say when you want to play with someone you don't know very well--something that isn't difficult for a lot of people, but which scares Ashley enough that she prefers to just dissociate from the situation completely.  We've been able to talk about how as you practice playing with people and become more familiar with them, that feeling of fear begins to go away.  We have discussed a lot of things.  Ashley has loved being able to complete small goals, and I have learned how to better phrase questions so she is more willing to answer them.

Hopefully we will be able to achieve our ultimate goal, which is what I wrote on the information sheet the teachers gave me at the beginning of the year.

"What is your goal for Ashley this year?"  It queried.  I wrote that I hope Ashley learns to be more comfortable about asserting herself in group situations.  That is something I cannot teach her at home, and that is a major reason preschool is going to be so good for her this year.

It will be fun to see the progress she makes this year.  She is so vibrant and smart and creative and strong, and I hope she learns to have the gumption to show it when the time comes.