Football is back

I'll make no comment on the football game itself (our team so far has left much to be desired), but our fun football Saturdays are back, and that's something we can cheer for. Tailgating with good friends, eating good food, and enjoying beautiful weather. Calvin and I got to go to the game this time around, which treated us to helicopters, a bald eagle, and a stealth bomber, all in pre-game. The rest of the game was just as heart bursting, but not for such enjoyable reasons (eek!). Jon, who is not a huge fan of football itself, got to stay home and enjoy some peace and quiet.

Playing catch up

The problem with falling behind on a journal of any kind, is a reluctance to go forward before catching up on the past. Unfortunately, that means that the more behind one falls, the less likely one is to get caught up, the less likely one is to ever start again. Over the past week-plus of my blog hibernation that something exciting has happened I've thought "Great! I now have something to write about and pictures to share!" quickly followed by "Oh, but I have to catch up first." So how about a quick catch-up post—everything that has happened, or at least everything that I have pictures of (pics or it didn't happen!), and then we'll move on from there.

Journaling the trip

Climbing at the park with HAA (our homeschooling group that meets once a week)

I found this word fun on the floor one morning.

On the first day of September we drove to a Lake Michigan beach to visit with family and soak up some final  joys of summer.

We had science over for dinner.

And we partyied in our garden, finding the first signs of fall and ridding the beds of weeds.

And I'm calling that caught up. Tomorrow is the first day of school for many, just another day for us, but I'm sure it will be a great day.

Giving thanks

Thanksgiving is about a lot of things for a lot of people. For us it's about family, and good food. Thankfully both of our families live right here in town so we get to share the holiday with both of them. We had a wonderful time with good company and good food, and today we slept in and lounged in our pajamas before starting to spread Christmas throughout the house, then enjoyed more family time with shopping and laughter and more good food.

The rest of the weekend promises to be equally as busy and joyous with football, tree chopping, and a train show. I hope everyone else having a great holiday as well.

 

On to the Neanderthal stage

Jon and I were just talking the other day about stages. Ever since Calvin was born I've found myself longing to hold onto stages of life—not so much "the baby stage" or "the toddler stage", but the "diapers are easier and I don't want to have to potty train" stage, or the "I feel safer with him in a crib and can't imagine him in a real bed" stage, or even the "I'm not ready to let go of the baby monitor" stage (and that was just last spring).

What we were talking about a couple days ago was how Calvin has defined each stage for us, as long as we were listening, and how letting him do so avoided any stresses for all of us. Just about the time I was worried about potty training he came downstairs in the morning and said he was done with diapers. Not much later he asked us for a "big boy bed", and just last spring he came into our room when he needed us at night without my needing to hear him on the monitor.

It hasn't just been with standard milestone stages, either. About a year ago he decided to learn to read and promptly did so, and this spring he decided to "study math" so he could play Monopoly. He goes through all kinds of stages—physical, mental, emotional (right now I'm enjoying a new "cuddle mommy" stage), some being obvious, others a little more subtle, but if we listen carefully he's giving us directions every step of the way.

We've been making our way through prehistory, and as in love as we were with the creatures of the Carboniferous, then with the dinosaurs of the Mesozoic, and now with the prehistoric mammals of the Cenozoic, with each step I've dragged my feet, reluctant to leave the beloved behind. This morning I came downstairs, still groggy with sleep because I'm the slow one in the morning, and was presented with a "cave drawing" by a little boy who was letting me know that it was time to move on to our study of early humans and their path into recent history from there.

He asked me for a family of Neanderthals, their cave, and a fire, all out of felt.

And so on we go.

Tomorrow, since today we spent mostly running errands or playing in the sunshine.

Sunny Tuesday

Our days now start closer to seven in the morning rather than eight, a blessing in disguise thanks to the time change. I really love the extra hour in the morning, but does that mean I can force myself to get up on a regular basis? No, but that time change sure works wonders. Calvin started his day at the piano, and being earlier means he can spend that time with his dad, which is great since piano is something they like to do together. I started my day with coffee and a crossword. 

By nine we were busy researching mammoths—woolly mammoths, to be specific—and the next thing we knew it was almost noon. That's a lot to learn about woolly mammoths, plus I made him one out of felt (the population on the downstairs Cenozoic timeline is growing) while he filled out an animal report form on the fuzzy guy. The boy has a thing for mammoths these days. Along with penguins and indricotheres and...

In looking for more information on woolly mammoths we came across a great online guide to the La Brea Tar Pits, and that entertained us for quite a bit longer.

We watched Becoming Human (ep. 3) over lunch, then wandered outside to rake leaves, toss the football (he's getting pretty good), and pester the cat through the window. Plus we found some confused raspberries on our bush.

Pirate play and creativity, more prehistoric mammals on the felt line, and after dinner he read to me before bed because we can't seem to find the book that I had been reading to him. Where is that black hole in the house?