Lovelihood

In Houston we learned that carving your pumpkin more than one day in advance of the big day would leave it vulnerable to the humidity and critters, which even in October could be a reckoning force. Evidently our Seattle squirrels, emboldened and fortified by their stolen birdfeeder loot have taken a cue from their Southern brethren and started in on our early pumpkin haul, harvested from the garden at The Boy's school.

I've been slacking on updating the emergency kit to be kept at Bear's school for, you know, emergencies. The last piece, to be included in the two gallon baggie along with freeze-dried fruit and spare underwear, are the list of contacts and current photos. I, of course, laminate these, because that's the kind of parent I am.

Among my birthday loot was an upside-down planter, because, as The Mr. put it, it'd been a while since I found a new way to kill a plant. It's funny because it's true. This little plant is resigned to its sad fate, but it's still pretty cute hanging there above the sink.

The amount of time that our children actually fit a pair of shoes seems so torturously small. We buy the Keens too big and keep their feet in them probably too long, so that there's always at least two shoe sizes between consecutive pairs. Bear never complains, though, that (before) her toes were pinched or that (now) her gait has a definite clownish quality to it. She loves her new pair, galloping along (even clip-clopping her tongue while she does it) at a faster clip than normal when walking up to her brother's school. www.lovelihood.com

The rain hat got made, cobbled together with pattern pieces on hand that were perhaps not suited for making headwear for my particular set of needs. Being mostly that it should protect my glasses, which it does not. Back to the drawing board with this one.

Walking into Trader Joe's is always a risky endeavor, what with all the attractively priced munchables and imbibables. Walking in with an empty stomach on the tail end of an errand run with credit card in hand is downright irresponsible. Figs beckoned to me in a way they never have before. Bear didn't much care for them. The mac and cheese bites, on the other hand, didn't last long enough on the plate to merit a photo shoot.

I don't remember a whole lot about my tenure in Kindergarten besides Marla Brignardello's mom's impressive Jell-O contrivances. But the homework packet The Boy brought home yesterday strike me as particularly of the now. Of the now in Seattle even. The material itself is what you'd expect. Writing things, counting things, coloring things, circling things. If there were a time when connect the dots would be appropriate for homework, Kindergarten would be it. What's interesting about the homework is the no pressure-ness of it. Do it. Or don't do it. Turn it in. Or not. Decorate it up with dinner crumbs and breakfast yogurt. Your call. Kindergarten, being the gateway drug to School, has been all about non-intimidating presentation. And I gotta say, I'm loving Kindergarten this time around.