Satellite parking

Eleventy dollars. That's how much Thomas told me it costs to park in the lot that's adjacent to the boys' living room airport. When they used teamwork to drag the entire basket of cars from the basement to the living room because they had already used all the cars upstairs, I should have been suspicious. Instead, I was cooking dinner. And, obviously not paying much attention because I was genuinely surprised when they showed me this:

The airport centered on the use of the coffeetable as a parking garage and the new lego plane that Andrew recently built, which I'm told is a 747.

Thomas even made many trips between the kitchen and living room with his toy coffeepot bringing coffee to the "airport worker," his brother, who I'm not sure was appropriately thankful for that kind of tarmac-side service. 

Getting it together

I would dearly love to be one of those people who always has it together. We all know them.  They're the people who always look put together, who multitask seamlessly, whose kids are always happy (and without food on their faces) and they certainly always say the right thing. I have moments of delusion where I feel as if I have the tiger by the tail, but it always comes crashing down.

Today was no exception.

My most entertaining not-so-on-top-of-it moment for today came in phases and started over my lunch hour when I ran into one of Andrew's classmates and his dad in the Toy Store. I was there because my nephew, with whom I had lunched, had earned himself a new airplane. I spoke to this friend of Andrew's and his dad and learned that the child was "sick" but had started antibiotics and so his dad - as only dads are apt to do - had brought him to the toy store to kill time and to touch every toy in sight to ensure that others will also soon be diagnosed with strep throat. I wished him well and told him I hoped he felt better and that we would miss him at soccer practice tonight but that I hoped he would feel up to playing on Saturday at their first game.

This afternoon when I picked Andrew up from school he told me his friend was sick today and I, as only someone who totally has it together could, told him I already knew that because I had seen his friend downtown and was sorry he wouldn't be at soccer practice. Andrew began to laugh and then said, "Of course he won't be at soccer. He's not on my team this season, don't you remember?"

Of course I do. [ahem...] Right. That was last season. That would likely explain the confused look that this child's father flashed my way in the Toy Store. 

Oh well, I tried.

Really?

Really? 

Apparently whomever owns this bike that's parked in my work parking lot is new to Downtown Lawrence.  It appears they believe they will save a parking spot with this bike. I'm thinking they'll lose the spot and the bike, but that's just me guessing.

Whoosh

Many of you already know this, but gosh, time flies. 

I know this in part because it's been three+ weeks since I've turned any of the dozens of blog posts I compose in my head on a daily basis into a reality here. During that time we've taken an excellent vacation to California, celebrated several birthdays and generally tried to wring the life out of summer. There's lots I should share.

I know it also because tomorrow this boy goes to first grade.

I owe him a birthday post where I share how wonderful I think he is and how much I love his constant curiosity and his ever-growing command of the English language and his willingness to try new things. I need an hour to sit down and document how we're simultaneously so much alike and so totally different and how I love him for all of that and how good he is for me. I don't have that hour tonight because the labeling of new school supplies and backpacks calls, but suffice it to say that I couldn't be more proud of this boy who is going to first grade tomorrow.

It seems darn near impossible that he could be ready for that but the fact that he's reading and writing and doing math in his head would indicate otherwise. I don't know that I'm ready but, fortunately or unfortunately, these things aren't left up to mothers. All I can do is hope he figures out how to painlessly manuever the school lunch system and look forward to the report tomorrow afternoon.

Look out first grade.  Here he comes!