The non-sporty boy. He likes to dance!

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The other day I read an article on HuffPost Parents about raising a boy that doesn’t play sports. I shared it on my Facebook page.

It resonated with many more people than I expected. It would appear that there are many non-sporty boys out there.

I guess I was sharing it as my own explanation for having a boy that doesn’t like sports. People normally ask what sports he’s doing instead of a general “what is he doing?”. I always launch into an explanation about how he tried all these different sports but never found his thing. Trying to explain. I see him struggle to answer it sometimes too. Although he is playing basketball right now, so at least he has that to offer. But let’s just say the college scouts are not making a bee line for the local YMCA’s courts. Um, no.

But I don’t want us to do that anymore. Why am I listing the things he has tried and doesn’t like? Why don’t I tell people that he draws, builds, and creates? He is loving his clarinet lessons. He’s going to take more acting classes. Fencing is something he’d like to try. They can ask him questions about all those things!

So in that spirit what he really loves, what he does, is dance.

I frequently tell people that there is nothing my boy works harder at or likes to do more than dance. Hip Hop dance to be precise. He is not a prodigy, but he’s really really good. And he loves it. So there you go.

The day I posted that FB status update we also went to his dance class and I took a little snippet of video…

Miss Twyla worked them really hard that day. He only learned those moves 15 minutes before I tried to stealthily record them through the glass door. In the car on the way home he said, “OMG that’s not a dance studio, that’s a murder room! I think I’m dying!!”.

He might have felt that way, but he’ll go back to that murder room. Week after week he will go. And love every minute of it. Because it’s what he does.

Preschool Graduation – the baby is all growed up

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I’m not gonna lie. This hurts. This hurts like all get out.

My baby just graduated from Preschool. That means he’s off to Kindergarten in the fall.

Kindergarten.

Elementary School.

With the big kids.

A giant backpack on his back.

Lunch made.

Jumping out of the van.

Running up the path.

Away from me.

AWAY FROM ME.

They are all moving away from me, all three. All the time. It’s the nature of kids. The grow. They move away from you. That’s what’s supposed to happen. But GAWD it hurts like a mutha.

I just want to keep them all right here, for just a bit longer.

I am having all the feels.

Next year means all the kids will be in one school. I got little brother into the after school program for the kindergarteners. That means one drop off. One pickup.

I have 8:30 – 2:45 all to myself. To do anything. Or something. I don’t even know what. What the hell am I going to do? But what if they need me? They’re so grown up, but still so little. Ridiculous.

ALL THE FEELS.

Sensitive letter writer strikes again

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We are about to set off for Mexico on an Anniversary trip. That means NO KIDS. I am conflicted. I reeeeeeeaaaaaaaallllllly want to go but I’m nervous to leave the kids. I know their in good hands, but I will miss them. I worry. I’m crazy!

I think my daughter could sense this. She gave me this letter. I promptly put it in my suitcase to bring with me. Because that’s what neurotic mothers do.

She has become an epic letter writer. I see journalling in her future!

Happy Presidents Day or Katy Perry Day. Whichever.

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My middle brought home some papers in her folder the other day. As elementary schoolers have a habit of doing. The amount of paper these kids bring home is suffocating. It’s everywhere. Some get hung up, some get put in the hanging file on the wall, some ends up on my desk. There is paper the children have manipulated in some way on every surface of my house.

But this one was special. I saw it and knew you would love it.

Happy Presidents Day or Katy Perry Day. Whichever.

The caption says “He didn’t go to school for a long time.”

I asked her very cheekily if this was George Washington or Katy Perry.

She burst out laughing. “Oh my gosh mama it does sort of look like her. I didn’t mean for it too.”

In her defense we did just watch the Superbowl halftime show two days prior to this illustration. Had there been a dancing shark in the picture too I would have been much more concerned, or amused.

Whichever.

We got a PUPPY!!

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omgomgomgomomgomgomg…we got a puppy!

Meet Jojo :-)

We surprised the kids.

It was awesome.

The wisdom of getting a puppy in the middle of a snowstorm is up for debate. But he sure is cute!

The grass is greener where you water it.

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A quote by Neil Barringham. Made pretty by the people at the blog Are you Serious.

You can buy a postcard of it there :-)

This snow outside is quite high and I’m dreaming of spring and the smell of grass. But that’s not what this quote is about is it. I’m am in and out on here and on social media becasue I’ve been spending more time watering the grass at home ;-)