Candy

Every year I keep a careful eye on the mood and tone of Valentine’s Day.  As we’re crowded around the coffee table, piled with chocolatey love treasures I nonchalantly observe: Is anyone reading the notes they get? Looking for covert messages of elementary school love? Is anyone writing the notes…

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Adding Up… or Not

It’s February.  That time of the year when your school-aged children enjoy a veritable month of three-day weekends.  Fun fact: October is the only month with zero days off or minimum days.  All the other months in the district calendar enjoy cryptic ellipses, rhombuses, rectangles, and triangles to signify the same thing: no school.

I’ve been meaning to do a little math, and here’s what I’ve found.  There are:

365 days in a year
180 school days
104 weekend days
51 days of summer vacation
27 days of school year vacation
12 minimum days and
2 teacher workdays

So that’s 29 full days off of school, not including summer break.  Meanwhile, back at the office we have…

20 days of accrued paid time off over the course of the year
7 holidays and
3 days of paid sick leave

For a total of 27 days off of work, or 30 if we’re assuming sick days are not meant for being sick.

Something’s not adding up here….

Let’s look at this math problem using another strategy (we’ve found multiple strategies are the key to extra credit at second grade math homework around our family coffee table).

Beyond summer break we have:

1 week off for Thanksgiving
2 weeks off for Christmas and
1 week off for Spring Break
Totals 4 weeks, which roughly aligns with the accrued time off above.

And if we compare the holidays side-by-side we’ve got:

Screen Shot 2019-02-11 at 4.59.09 PMThe YMCA and SLO Parks and Rec need time to gird themselves for the summer and decompress once those 51 days of summer vacation are over.  Some additional fun facts include an entire city without full-time day care or camp the first week after school gets out for the summer, as well as the full week before school starts in August.  Plus they generally don’t work school holidays.

I’m not sure I’m ever going to catch-on to this new math.

Belly-up

I was putting on my wellies this week and I peer into our outdoor teak shoe box.  Right in the bottom of Jacob’s rain boot is a blue belly lizard belly-up. Who’s laughing now?  Bwahahahahaha. Joke’s on you little boys.  Except the boys won’t seem to wear their rain boots…

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Wellies

My tall Hunter wellies are well, shall we say, worn-in.  No longer are they fashionable British rain boots.  After several years of mud and chickens and brush clearing and dogs, they’re farm boots now. Every time I go to put them on, I’m reminded of riding in the car not…

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Yahoo

Lately we’ve been enjoying a “family show” after dinner, sha-sha, and homework time.  Mostly we like The Zoo and Crikey! It’s the Irwins.  Well the show, not necessarily the title.  Let the record show that I am against titles sporting exclamation points in any and all circumstances. I’m always fielding…

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Prank

Jacob has developed a new interest in pranks.  It seems finding clever ways of creating mayhem is infinitely fascinating to nine-year-old boys.  After some sort of literal interpretation of my rules, he likes to gleefully exclaim, “I beat the system!” Meanwhile, corporate office life continues to consist mostly of meetings…

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Spirit Animal

Over the Christmas holiday break, we did as the Spaniards would say, “una gira del sudoeste.”  Roughly translated to “a giant loop of entrance fees to various lands.” Our first stop was Tucson, Arizona for a wedding and family reunion in the saguaro forest.  The wedding was beautiful.  The company…

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Tweeny Bopper

Lately I’ve been reflecting on the days when we were up in the 5AM hour, happy that the first number glowing green in the darkness was not a 4.  On rainy winter days we’d find ourselves running the spacious halls at Valley Fair Mall, all the shops closed.  The only…

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Triple Threat

Jacob was born with the persuasive gene, the persistence gene… and the Purnell genes.  The triple threat.

One time my friend Sarah told me about a couple she knows that are both lawyers.  The little boy approaches his mom one day and asks for something.  She says no.  He amiably accepts her answer and strolls off.  Meanwhile Attorney Mom then spends several minutes coaching her son to never accept no for an answer.  Don’t give up.  Fight for what you want.  You gotta go after it.

I find this lawyer story quaint.

Back when Jacob was in Miss Maria’s class, which mind you, was still a class of toddlers in diapers, he invited everyone to a party he was having at his house.  The teachers fell for this invite hook, line, and pacifier.  Everyone was looking forward to this fictitious soiree.  Till I burst their party bubble.

Grandma has always been especially prone to Jacob persuasion.  You can frequently find her quoting things he tells her as fact.  When he was five, he gave her a package inside our front door.  It had arrived that day.  “Sure, take the box.  It’s empty.  It’s all yours!”  Meanwhile she absconded with several hundred witch fingers a couple days before Halloween.

He’s persuasive.  And persistent.  And an emotional rollercoaster.  He says everything with such conviction.  He believes it.  At that very moment.  But if you know him, you know to give him a few minutes and a snack and his strongly held beliefs will most likely evaporate like a party bubble dancing in a room full of witch fingers.

When he was five or six he would yell and cry and tell me he would never like reading.  NEVAH!  He hated books and stories and nothing I could do would ever change that.  “I know you want me to love reading, but I will NEVER love it, Mom.”  Dagger straight to the book-reviewing-straight-A-striving-mommy-blogger heart.

The only way to combat the triple threat is to agree with him.  Yep.  Books are evil.  Stories are the spawn of Satan.  Reading?  You don’t need it.  Never will.

In the moment, you’ll have no idea that at some point his desire to read the Barbie-sized writing on Pokémon cards will propel him into the land of the literate.  Jake credits Pokémon for teaching him to read.  In all seriousness.  It certainly wasn’t thanks to the three teachers he had for first grade.  My sincere gratitude goes out to Picachu.

Lately he’s been going through Wings of Fire books like Honey Nut Cheerios.  He’s so hard to wake-up in the morning.  Our night owl has been up too late sucked deep into dragon drama.

A day or two ago I lean over Jacob in his bed.  “Why are you so tired?”

“Mom.  I love reading.”

I’m known for my persuasion and persistence.  I am a Purnell.