swimming progress

This morning we head for our fourth day of swim lessons.  I would definitely characterize Reese as progressing. He rocked lessons Monday and Tuesday, but once he had to venture into deeper water yesterday he slammed on the brakes.

Evidently he doesn't ever want to swim in water where he can't touch the bottom.  Which would be fine if we were taking swim lessons for fun, but we're not.

Lofton and I are firmly in the camp of swim lessons are for survival skills, not for fun.  We want to know that if Reese were to fall in a pool, or off the dock at the lake {even though he still wears his life jacket 24/7 at the lake}, that he could swim to the side.  

With that in mind, practicing his skills in the deeper part of the water in a necessity.  So he got a little frustrated yesterday.  And the maddening thing about our child is that it's almost impossible to convince him to do something he doesn't want to do.  He is so strong willed.  And not in an annoying pitch a fit way, more in a silent but resolved way.  Remember the dentist?

But I think {maybe I hope} that when we explained to him yesterday why we needed him to practice in deeper water that he understood.  And this morning he told me he would try really hard four times.  

We shall see...

strep throat and swim lessons

You know what's really great about the summer?  You aren't living for the weekend.  And if your weekend is a bust because you have a horrible case of strep throat it isn't the end of the world because work on Monday is a non-issue.

That's me.  The girl with strep throat.  And my tango with this hellacious infection probably wouldn't have been so bad if I had gone to the doctor Thursday afternoon when my throat started hurting.  Or even Friday at some point.  But that didn't happen.  Thursday I convinced myself that it was my allergies, and Friday morning Reese and I had eight million errands to accomplish, and so late Friday afternoon I was ready to concede that I was dying but no doctor was open.

And Friday night was long.  And full of feverish tears, sweatshirts, and pain.  And Lofton suggested we go to the pediatric clinic and ask them to see me.  Which in hindsight is kind of funny, but at the time was not funny at all.

Saturday morning Lofton had to work, so Reese and I managed to make it to urgent care in Auburn.  Where it took all of five minutes for the doctor to conclude I had a very severe case of strep throat.  I got an extremely large shot in my hip, which Reese found to be highly entertaining, and a lecture from the doctor on the dangers of letting strep throat go untreated.  Thanks Doc, the fact that I can't swallow or talk due to the swelling was my first indication that maybe I misjudged my allergy issue.

And then I took Reese to the lumber yard to stay with Lofton and went home to bed.  Where I stayed all day.  And the boys brought me a Chick Fil A milkshake and horse sized antibiotic pills.  Yesterday was marginally better.  And by marginally I mean I didn't entertain thoughts of death and I moved from the bed to the couch.

But this morning I feel almost normal.  Kind of like my throat hurts from my allergies.

That's good news because we have swim lessons this week.  Every single day.  And a plan of action.  This year Mama is going to sit in the car.  I think that will help things to go a little smoother.  For some reason I bring out Reese's dramatic side. 

And because, as you know, we believe in incentives there is a pet goldfish waiting at the end of the swimming lesson rainbow.  Reese wants a pet fish and we told him he'd have to earn it.  By being a fish himself.

See how clever we are? We basically could write a parenting book.

t ball

Our first t ball practice was yesterday.  One in the bag, eight thousand more to go.  Pardon my negative attitude, but I don't believe t ball is my jam.

Truthfully, we weren't certain Reese was going to play.  We vacillated back and forth over whether we were going to let him because of his allergies, but those seem to be in control for now.  Then he wasn't really sure he wanted to play because he likes soccer so much better.  In the end, though, I paid the forty five dollars.  

Which was a joke in itself.

Silly me thought forty five dollars would be the extent of our commitment.  Nope.  One trip to Academy for a bat, glove, ball, pants, cleats, and a helmet did that assumption in.  And now Lofton tells me we need a tee for the yard.

All that to say, our first practice was last night.  And it should be noted that with the exception of the thirty minutes we spent in the yard practicing Monday, Reese has never played t ball in his life.  This would not be true of approximately half his team.  In fact, I heard one mother mention professional batting lessons last night.  

Yep.  She really did.  

And another mama wanted to argue about the height of the tee because her child is short.  To be fair, our preacher is our coach {and Lofton is the assistant} and he's really great.  As are his two boys.  But the fact remains that parents can be crazy.  I know this because I teach the children of these crazy baseball fanatics.  The ones who can't do homework because of baseball practice. 

And so it's possible at some point this season we might need to have a dose of perspective on Team Bats. Because, dang it, if I'm going to spend three days a week at the ball field this is going to be fun. 

And also dirty.  Reese had nasty dirt sweat dripping down his face last night.  Cue the laundry.

bookworm

Last week we made our first trip to the public library for this summer.

We went last summer, as well, but I primarily picked his books.  The bookmobile visited Reese's class at school on weekly basis this year, though, so he was extra excited to check out books himself and bring them home. 

I had asked a friend for a suggestion on introductory chapter books to read this summer.  I wanted a book series, not just picture books, so Reese could follow a character progression over the summer.  I know, I'm a teacher.  At her suggestion, we chose to start with Henry and Mudge.  It's a series about a dog, Mudge, and his owner, Henry, by Cynthia Rylant.  She writes some of my favorite picture books of all time.  I read The Relatives Came on the first day of school every year.  

We picked two to read together and home we went.  That was Wednesday.

By Thursday he had them memorized.  I know this because I took "artistic license" to change a few words or cut some time and Reese immediately stopped me and told me I read the page wrong.  I naively said something like oh I did to which he replied yes the page says.... and he repeated the whole thing word for word. Shoot.

Today we went back and checked out four more.  There are only twenty so at this rate I'll need a new plan in a few weeks.  I'm open to suggestions, if you have any!

open arms

We are welcoming summer with open arms in this house.  How about you?

May was a pretty crummy month.

There was standardized testing at school, Reese's first battle with strep throat which led to missing my favorite little girl's birthday party, and my grandmother passed away.  And our refrigerator is semi-dead and I have a leaking tire.  That combined with end of the year third grade craziness and Reese's graduation from school has left us exhausted..  And kind of out of blog worthy posts.

But our month has ended on a positive, as we've just returned from vacationing at the beach with Lofton's parents.  And my favorite friends just relocated from Augusta to Birmingham.  And it's summer.  Duh.  Swim lessons, library mornings, art class, and lunch dates are about to become the norm around here.

And t-ball.  Oh t-ball.  Not my first choice of activities for Reese, but I was overruled.  

Plus, Thursday our super fancy new fridge will be delivered.

So there you are.  May in a nutshell.

home again home again

We zipped down 65 Friday afternoon to spend a little time at Emo and Buck's house.

Let's quickly gloss over the ride, shall we?  It wasn't fun.  Reese wasn't pleasant, I was coming off a week of feeling awful, the weather was yucky.  We stopped approximately five times because Reese had to potty.

Our plan was to head to the beach Saturday morning, but it was beyond cold.  And this is coming from a girl who used to lay out in February.  Finally, we headed out after lunch.  It was maybe 65 degrees.  With gale force winds.

I was thankful to have on long sleeves.

Quickly Lofton and I were reminded that four year olds don't get cold.  Reese immediately wanted to swim.  Lofton distracted him with digging, long walks for shells, and dolphin watching for a bit.  Reese was not to be deterred from his goal though so he laid down on the surf line and let the frigid water wash over him.

He swore-- blue lips and all-- that he wasn't cold.

We had dinner at the beach last night to celebrate Bridget, my brother's girlfriend, turning the big 1-8.  Lofton and I entertained the young couple with stories of our courtship.

Dinner was late-- and my little dolphin hadn't napped-- so he fell fast asleep in my lap.  He woke long enough to eat and then curled right back up.

Today we headed home to errands, laundry, and a long week of standardized testing.

Three more Mondays....

zipping along

The work days are long right now, friends.  And I'm 100% certain I've said that before.  It's just that time of year.

And while the weeks are dragging by, my favorite child's days at school are flying at warp speed.  Don't even ask how I'm going to get through his pre-k graduation on May 17th.  Because I'm not.  I'm going to sob through the whole thing.  And his last day at Milestone on May 24th?  I cried when I told them that was the official date.  Like wept.

And yes, he'll do pre-k again next year.  At a different school.  And then graduate again.  And no, we aren't sure where.  Lots of decisions coming down the pike, kids.  LOTS.

But through all of that, there has been lots of laughter this week.  Reese is 100% my child in most every aspect except two-- he's hysterically funny and completely accident prone.  Those things have Lofton written all over them.

I signed my eight billionth accident report Thursday.  Reese took a tumble down the sidewalk.  He is just so clumsy.  Maybe the giant feet?  I'm not sure.  Regardless there was bleed. And apparently when you're four, bleed is fine when your mama isn't around but as soon as she shows up it's reason to fall apart.  Tears, requests to be held, band aids constantly applied, and gummy bears.  Because, duh, gummy bears heal the world.  What you can't see is the healing knee.  Yes, I signed an accident report last week also.  

So imagine our excitement that Friday was the trikeathon.  Reese raised $53.00 in pledges for a special needs school in the Valley.  Thanks grands and Cassie & Hugh! Although Reese refused to ride his bicycle-- still won't touch it-- he did ride his scooter.  I literally couldn't breath between nine and ten Friday morning.  I was just waiting for my I think Reese broke his arm call.

But he rocked it out.  And according to him he won! Lofton and I were unaware the trikeathon was a competitive event, but whatever....

And then Daddy brought home a turtle--

Murtle was saved by my non-boyscout husband.  She spent the day riding in his truck.  We set her free in the backyard and hopefully Murtle found a good safe home.  Also I sold a car.  My parents have been trying, unsuccessfully, to sell Jackson's truck.  He needs something more gas-friendly to zip around town in.  I casually mentioned to a friend at school that the truck was for sale and wouldn't you know, it was exactly what her teenage son was wanting.  That's me-- making dreams come true for kids of all ages.  It's probably the first and last truck I'll ever sell, but I'm pretty impressed with myself.  My dad's dad, Granddaddy Buck, would have been proud of me, too.  He really wanted my dad to be a car salesman instead of a teacher.  And look at me!  Best of both worlds. 

Six more Mondays, peeps! Then we'll be drinking margaritas with our toes in the sand...