Back to School

Stopping the new school year was like trying to stop a hurricane.  I tried my best but the wind and rain came and so did September:(

As you can see, Miss Mad is pretty happy.  This was not her real first day.  She only had testing for placement.  But she has been waiting nearly 6 years (no preschool even!) and going in for testing was good enough.  Mads ended up in the classroom next door to her bestie, which was a sad day.  She is usually excited and enjoying herself.  She went in reading so she has had a lot of reading homework.  On the days she hasn't had enough sleep she is kind enough to tell me I was right when I told her she would be better off being homeschooled.

My dear boy......go ahead and look again at his face.  Jack does not enjoy leaving home.  He would rather be here with Mama and Max, herding his cows on the ranches he creates all over the house and yard, complete with watering holes and cattle guards.  He is terribly bright and popular, and once he gets to school things go smoothly.  But making the break from home is heart breaking.  I think 3rd grade is going to be his year.  His personal goal is to go to school happy....ish, and without resistance.  If that happens, every month he can choose one day to stay home. 

Lovely Ri Ri.  Fifth grade.  I just gagged a little.  Riles is the one child that does not want to be homeschooled.  She has lots of friends, sets her own physical and educational goals, and loves sports at recess.  This year instead of joint ruining gymnastics, she is taking piano, basketball, and more baseball.

Max, Max, Max.  When people ask him if he is going to school this year he says, "No, I not big enough."  For better or worse he might be my last and I am indulging myself by keeping him home.  Since his birthday is close to the cut off, he will be going nearly a full year before his sisters did.  Then he's gone forever. 

I used to think that if you were an involved parent, public school was a viable option.  I am seriously beginning to rethink that.  But that's another story.

Tuesdays With Maxy

Max has developed a new ritual.  Every Tuesday morning when the garbage truck comes, he likes to go sit on the cement in the drive way and watch the garbage being dumped at every house on the street.  When it's finally our turn, he claps like a wild man when the trash is emptied into the back of the truck.  Then he waves and waves at the driver.
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Knock on wood but Max is finally potty trained.  There weren't any tricks that worked.  Candy...nope.  Shooting a gun.....nope.  The promise of a new Transformer.....nope.  He just finally decided it was time and hasn't looked back. 
One day after he had been successfully using the potty for a few weeks he said that it was time for him to ride the potty train.  He said he could ride it alone and then decided he would rather invite his brother and sisters and me.  Jack cracked a smile....laughed and told Max that he was free Thursday.  Funny boys!
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Max loves to follow me around the house with plastic bugs and lizards hidden in his hands.  Then he will tell me that he has something for me and throw them at my face.  He thinks it is hilarious.....and he learned it from Ri.  She's good enough that I really believe she is going to throw a bug at me.  I always scream when Ri does it and that is the exact reaction I have to give Max too, to make him happy.
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Max can run the dishwasher and unload part of it.  He can also run the washer and dryer, put the clothes in and transfer them.  He isn't half bad at sweeping the floor and cleaning his room.  You would think if all of that were true, I would have a much easier job.  Some how it hasn't worked out that way yet.
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When I asked Max what we were going to do all day with his Ri Ri and Dackie gone, he said,"Play Mario Cart."
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He's still just a baby though.  When he's getting tired and needs some snuggles, he shoves his hand right up my shirt and rubs my stomach.  The other night he was exhausted and had one hand under my shirt and the other clutching Woobie.  He kept shoving his hand against the underwire in my bra.  Finally he had enough and said,"What is undoo you shoot?"  I said, "My bra Max."   He said, "I can't get undoo it.  Why you weawing it?"   I said, "That's exactly why Max."