The Spaghetti Dinner

After making 17 gallons of sauce and feeding over 300 people ever year for the last four (and presumably for the next four) I don't think I will actually forget the Winnona Park Spaghetti Dinner.  But last night is one I really really want to remember - Matthew and our friend Kristen helped check people in at the door, Tara served everyone's spaghetti, and Ian and Alec passed out cookies at the end of the serving line.  It was a lot of work, but a lot of fun, and I feel so lucky to have so many of the people I love there to help.

Ian's Third Grade Teacher

I hate being one of those people who, every year, says "This is the best one ever - really!" but that is how I have felt about Ian's teachers starting with Pre-K, taking only one year off during kindergarten when I could definitively say that it was not the best, and then re-uniting with this overtly Pollyanna sentiment in first grade.  But this year is really it - the pinnacle.  Her name is Ms. Tolsma, and Matthew paid her what I think is the highest compliment you could give someone about their chosen profession: "She always looks like she's having such a good time."  If someone said that about me at work, I would be thrilled (and also think they were slightly dotty).  But I digress.

We met with Ms. Tolsma last week to talk about Ian, and if I could have taped the conference I would have just for the pleasure of hitting re-play over and over. 

Here are just a few things she said:

"As a teacher, when you get a child like Ian in your class, you feel so lucky.  It changes the whole tone of the room.  Ian really wants everyone to feel good all of the time, and his actions and words really impact the other kids.  They see Ian being nice to everyone, and it affects them, makes them more nice too."

"Ian is very smart.  He is like a walking encyclopedia - it's amazing how many things he has information about."

"I know that more than anything, Ian wants so much to do a good job."

It wasn't all sunshine and light, of course, because the main topic Matthew and I wanted to talk about was how easily Ian is distracted from his tasks, and what we should do about helping him be more successful.  But she had story after story about how Ian was every bit the creative, kind, intelligent little boy we know him to be, and it made me feel like she really got essence of my kid.  Next week, next month, and forever more (especially when I'm old) I hope I always remember to see him the way I do on my most loving and best day - the way that a thoughtful and sweet third grade teacher would.

Ian's Dreamhouse

I really need to scan the picture in for full effect, but here are the things included in Ian's dream house that he randomly decided to draw:

1) Pool
2) Gim (better known as Gym)
3) Garog (not a mythical creature - a place to park your cars)
4) Dionsor and  Fossils room
5) Trap door (hidden under a chair) to laboratory basement
6) Rocks room
I have to look again, but I'm not sure there was a bedroom or a kitchen.  Priorities...

Pronunciations

upslide down  (Ian age 4) = upside down

hangaburger (Alec age 3) = hamburger

Just gwait! (Alec age 4) =  Just great! (apply worldweary voice and heavy sarcasm when saying this - up on the just, and down on the gwait)

biolynn (Alec age 4) = violin

frump room (Ian through age 7) = front room (aka our living room at the front of the house)

wook (Alec age 4) = look

berry powaful (Alec age 4) = very powerful

Explanation

So my very wise friend told me when I first had kids that I should write things down, because I wouldn't remember them and I would want to.  And I thought, wow, that is such a great idea.  I also thought, how could I possibly forget that?  But eight years into parenting, and I find friends and loved ones telling me little things that I had completely forgotten, stories about my kids that were so dear, or cute, or obnoxious, that they really needed to be documented.  So in a very self-indulgent moment, I decided to start a blog. 

This morning was the inspiration.  My two boys, Ian (8 years old) and Alec (almost 5) were getting ready for their day.  My husband had asked Alec to get his shoes out.  Ian decided that he would help him get them on, so he sat Alec on the bed and started.  As I was walking past the door, I heard Ian talking in an announcers voice.
 "And here he is, ladies and gentleman, getting ready to kick another goal with his left foot right into his sock - he shoots - he scores!  The crowd goes wild.  Now he's up at the goal again, kicking into the sock for his right foot - another goal!"

When I'm old, I hope I will remember that Alec has the nicest big brother in the world.  I hope he remembers it too.