Perhaps it is that a great majority of the peeps down here yonder only speak Southern, not French.
I made these, crafted them with my own hands (and computer and scissors and rubber stamps). I realized after we mailed them that I forgot to put any sort of RSVP info on the invite. Yet of the 6 girls who have the honor of being invited, 5 of them have seen their way clear to letting us know whether or not they will be attending. Which they all will. Lucky us with the slumber party.
I made these too. Yes, I am very talented. Thank you very much. As you can see, there is a pretty clear RSVP line on this one. Listing a phone number (which I have blurred for this exercise in case anymore pests from the Charlotte Fire Department want to call the house and try to sell me tickets to a kid's magic show) and an email address. To make it easier. Unforch, we've only heard from 4 of the 13 invitees to this bash--and 3 of them are from Will's list. Do people think it means "regrets only" so I should assume everyone else is coming? Though Cuyler saw one of his friends today at Monkey Joe's and Drew said he didn't think he was coming because they had 'something going on'. So why hasn't your mom called me, pal? Do I make 4 goody bags or 13? Will it be a complete madhouse here on Sunday afternoon or just mild chaos?? I guess it will just be a surprise. For all of us.
I'm off to compose an email to Miss Manners now. Good night.
Today marked one of our annual rituals that is right up there with well, all the stuff I don't like to do. It was Annual Physical Appointment day. 3 kids with birthdays 2 days apart means I've been scheduling their physicals together since 2001. It's long and nerve-wracking but when we're done, it's over.
Our appointment this morning went pretty well, all things considered. Things like all 3 of them had to have a finger stick in the lab to draw blood to measure their hemacrit. Cuyler was sitting on my lap in the blood donation chair saying things like 'are you done yet? You're taking all my blood and if you take all my blood I'm gonna die!'. To which the technician replied, "I haven't killed anyone yet." Meanwhile I'm literally in tears--from laughing. Cuyler is saying all this stuff and telling me how much it hurts and he's laughing as he says it. Bizarre.
The results: everyone is healthy. Will is making up for not being the first one to lose a tooth by weighing in at 2 pounds more than Cuyler and being a 1/2 inch taller. Gotcha bro!
A conversation that might take place about 12 years from now as Cuyler settles into his dorm at college and is hanging with some of his peeps...
Random classmate dude: "So, what was it like to grow up with a twin brother?"
Cuyler: "It was pretty cool for us although I think it almost put my mom over the edge a few times."
RCD: "Oh yeah? Got any funny stories?"
Cuyler: "Well this one time we were in Target, me, my brother and sister and my mom. This was the 3rd store we'd been in and we were heading to some baseball game--the Charlotte Knights. Anyway, we were kind of out of hand, hiding in the rack of clothes, going down different aisles, whining, fighting and all that 6 year old kind of stuff. My mom was getting annoyed so she stuck us in the carriage for a while but then she let us out. We were still pretty wound up and were sort of wreaking havoc--in a cute sort of way. Finally we paid and headed out to the car. I remember my sister was carrying the bags and my mom had my brother and I each by the wrist, one in each hand. She was so po'd, she was yelling at us yet almost under her breath as we were in public and all. All of a sudden, she pulled us together and BONK!, we bumped heads.
RCD: Dude, that must've hurt!
Cuyler: "Yea it did, for a minute. We were sorta crying then by the time we got to the car we were laughing. The really funny part though came a few hours later. We were at the baseball game, the whole family. My dad took my brother and sister up to get something to eat while I hung out with my mom. For some reason she started looking in my mouth, she said my bottom teeth looked crooked. Then she reached in and tried to wiggle one. It was totally loose. I was so psyched. I'd never lost a tooth and didn't even realize I had a loose one. Then my dad came back and we told him all about my loose tooth. Next thing I know, both of my parents are laughing. My mom realizes that it was probably the head bumping that loosened my tooth. Me and my brother, we hit in the mouth when she did it. Totally crazy. And then the next day, I pulled it out. And that's how I lost my first tooth."
RCD: "So your Mom knocked out your first tooth?"
Cuyler: "Yeah, kinda."
RCD: "Dude, that's harsh."
Cuyler: "Not really, as soon as my brother heard that head bonking loosened my tooth, he wouldn't stop begging my mom to do it again so he could loose a tooth. He's competitive like that."
aka The Last Day of Soccer Camp.
This week they learned skills such as dribbling, passing, ball control and shooting for goal. They learned terminology like goal kick and play on. They learned that shin guards are overrated. I learned that 6 year old boys can exert themselves for long periods of time in the heat, sun and humidity and still have enough energy to bicker at home. The most interesting thing to come out of the week though was the blossoming of Will's competitive nature.
For the last half hour or so of camp everyday, they scrimmaged (against other "little leaguers", 6&7 year olds). 3 or 4 to a side. When Will's team lost, he was grumpy, miserable and prone to coughing up water onto his mother's leg. On days that his team won, he was full of tales of "awesome" plays he'd made and how great the world was. Up until Thursday, Will and Cuyler were on the same scrimmage team. However, when I arrived for the so-called (by Will) Championship Game on Friday, Will was playing goalie and sporting a green fini (or pini or whatever it is they called the mesh shirts they wear to distinguish one team from another) and Cuyler was playing offense for the opposing team. This was not going to end well for someone. Namely me, as I have to live with the 2 of them. Hmmmmm.
Will was a decent goalie, I must say. Especially factoring in his total soccer experience time of 5 days. He stayed in front of the net whereas Cuyler was more in the net when he played goalie earlier in the week. Will relished the control of throwing the ball back in when it went out of bounds. And he even had an assist on a goal when he made a save and passed it right to his teammate who brought it up the field and shot into an open net (the other goalie really liked to come out of the net). Most of the action I saw was in front of Will. I overheard Cuyler asking him to 'just let me score one goal' and a resounding 'no way!' from Will. In soccer camp, as in the Tour de France, there are no gifts after all. There were shots, saves, and lots of good hustle by Cuyler. The final score was 2-1, Will's team. Oh, and Will didn't let the one goal in, Reilly did. Will apparently came in as relief goalie.
So there it was, in the handshake. Sometimes you win (can you see Will is grinning from ear to ear?) and sometimes you lose (can you see Cuyler is about to cry?). Life lessons at soccer camp.
Luckily, soccer camp on Friday presented one last opportunity for a life lesson: revenge. The campers had a water gun fight and guess who got the better Super Soaker with the longer ranger, increased torque and larger tank capacity? That's right, Cuyler. And who do you think his first target was...
Defying all odds, a ripened tomato appeared on the vine of one of our deck plants the other night. Despite an invasion of horn worms, an erratic watering schedule, and a heathly dose of benign neglect, the patio pot that could bore fruit.
Yes, there are several other tomatoes on the plant. They look like they should be ripening and that we should be awash in fresh produce nightly. Alas, that is not the case. They've been on there for weeks now. Still green. Sure, I could pick them and try to ripen them in a paper bag, but where's the sport in that?
I guess they're southern tomatoes--as in meant to be fried and green. Next year I may stick to flowers.
But it sure did taste good.
When we last left Ebby she was being picked up from "cheerleading camp". We spent a few hours at home having lunch and watching tv and getting out of chores because "it's my birthday. I don't have to clean my room". Uh huh. Next, we headed to the pool for a few hours. Ebby made a new friend, Hannah, and got lots of chlorine in her eyes. Which I mention because while she was eating dinner, I noticed she has a sty in her eye. Just like her mommy and daddy when they were little. Actually Daddy had a sty just a few months ago that swelled up his upper lid so much he looked as if he'd been in a street fight. You know, coming out of the Bank of America building and he had taken exception to some guy named Rocko cutting in front of him to go thru the revolving glass door. Bam! Smash! Boom! Giant pus filled eye! What am I talking about anyway?...
Dinner, presents, and chocolate chip cookie cake (again) rounded out the evening. Daddy wrote Ebby a lovely, heart felt poem in honor of her birthday. I printed it out and gave it to Ebby with her birthday cards. She read it aloud for us, it was very sweet. I think Daddy was tearing up a bit (I can tell now that he is sty free and all). Ebby finished reading, smiled and said to Daddy, "If you have an apple tree in your yard and an apple falls off the tree and lands in your neighbor's yard, is it stealing if you take the apple back?". So much for sappy sentiment. But we love you very much anyway Ebb, hope you had a very Happy 9th Birthday!
Starting her new year right with a birthday breakfast pancake special: chocolate chips, sprinkles and frosting. And to think she went to bed at 6:30 last night (sans dinner) because she wasn't feeling well. Up bright and early before 6am to celebrate, she's doing just fine.
Stay tuned for continuing coverage of: Ebby's 9th Birthday...da da daaaaaaaaaaa!
In their defense, they did this on Sunday, back when they were only 5. Now that they're 6 don't expect anymore of this kind of craziness.
Unless they're offered at least a dime.
Cuyler and Will's birthday was yesterday. Will woke up and told me he'd grown. Cuyler woke up and with no prelude, read Hop On Pop aloud to me in his bed. Nothing like a little Dr. Suess to get you going. Daddy and Ebby went to Starbucks for hot cocoa for all and I made chocolate chip birthday breakfast muffins. Next stop, first day of rec. camp: soccer for the boys and cheerleading for Ebby. We sunscreened, packed water and snacks, grabbed two beat up soccer balls (including one with roughed up seams that Daddy found near the trash in the park). Arrived at boot camp, er, soccer camp. Many children sporting uniforms, shin guards and playing with shiny, clean soccer balls. And cleats. Lots of cleat-clad campers. Did I mention that this is the first foray into organized sports of any kind for the boys? So no, they've never played soccer before. Though they did watch some of the World Cup with Daddy. They looked very young and very hot as we left them. They sort of had the young Brazilian in the street soccer look going--baseball themed t-shirt and long shorts, beat up sneakers that are getting too small. Coach Andrew and his staff seemed very nice and capable. They're six, time to let 'em sink or swim. And sweat in the 90 degree heat on the soccer field.
They survived just fine, as you knew they would. By the time we came back 2 hours later to watch them scrimmage with the other 6 and 7 year olds, they had the general idea of the whole soccer thing. They ran and were in on lots of plays, had some nice passes and kicks too. No shots on net but we're hopeful for the rest of the week.
We did give them a gift to open at lunch, Battle Boogie Boards which they took to the pool when we finally made it there around 5pm. A BBB is basically a boogie board and a squirt gun all in one with the pool being the tank for the squirt gun. Not a toy for when it's crowded, but fun yesterday afternoon. Wrapped up the evening with cake, ice cream and a few more gifts. Then of course the traditional birthday meltdown just before bed. What would bedtime be without tears and whining...um, bordering on pleasant perhaps?? Of course it all subsided in about 3 seconds when Cuyler found the box of Pokemon toys that all the fuss was about. Heat+long periods of outdoor activity+birthday excitement+sugar=Mommy and Daddy going to bed at 9:30 to make the day end.
I have few funny quotes from yesterday but can't find that scrap of paper right now, so enjoy more pictures. Or I'll send Will after you--he's strong and now he's bigger.