"they say the owl was a baker's daughter. lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be." (Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 5)

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Saturday, September 26, 2009

Working for the Week-End

Sepember 2009 has proven to be a busy month. We're all getting used to our schedules, and being back at school. I love September in New England. It might just be my favorite time of year.
I am enjoying my tenure as a soccer mom. What I like the best about this new role is that I get to sit down for 90 minutes at a time, and not go anywhere or do anything. Sometimes, I don't even talk. It's almost like being in a coma, except that I am fully conscious and sitting up straight in folding stadium chair, usually sipping an iced coffee from Starbucks.
Sometimes, Liam likes to play goalie. Sometimes he doesn't. It all depends on how many points the other team scores on him.
Another nice thing about living in New England is the apple-picking this time of year. Fulfilling my mother-of-the-year duties, I chaperoned a field trip to a local farm. There was a tractor ride, apple picking, apple eating, pumpkin picking, hay play, lunch, and feeding the animals. Needless to say, I took Eamon straight home and sterilized him in a boiling hot bath for about an hour. Something about walking around on dusty dirt paths, sitting on hay and touching farm animals (including chickens) just makes me feel all kinds of dirty. My little bottle of hand-sanitizer was not up to the task of eating lunch in a virtual dustbowl surrounded by goats (or were they sheep)?
Sometimes, you stop at a red light and turn around to smile at your son, and you realize, he's a total giant and he doesn't really fit in his car seat anymore, and it makes you miss your baby (but not enough to have another one).
Here at Mallard Drive we believe that everyone should do their part to contribute to the household. So, we recently put the boys to work pulling out carpet staples in the stairwell, after Duke ripped up the carpet. The boys were none to happy to help, and you should see our new hardwood floors.
I think my kids like my husband better than me. That's ok. He is way more fun than I am. The other night, I asked Eamon to put on a pair of sweat pants. He wouldn't do it. About an hour later, I see him putting on some sweat pants, so I said, "Oh, Duke must have asked you to change your clothes." And Eamon said, "Yeah, he told me to put on sweat pants." And I said, "Well I'm glad you listen to him because you sure don't listen to me." To which Eamon relpied, "Don't worry mommy, I'll listen to you someday."
I can't wait.

Monday, September 7, 2009

School Days

It's back to school for September 2009. Liam starts
third grade, and Eamon goes to pre-school. When I asked Eamon what he wanted in his lunch box for his first day of school, he said, "Steak." So, ok. I can do that. As my friend Sarah commented, nothing like making the other kids jealous when he whips out a sirloin on day one.
Liam is very excited (and proud) to be playing on his first competitive sports travel team. We had his first practice. When we were walking back to the car, he held my hand and said, "Mama, you don't really look like the other moms. I just think you look like my mom." I almost cried.
Eamon was telling me all about what his classmates' parents do for work. "Cody's dad makes sandwiches all day." "Ashley's dad makes pizza all day, he just makes pizza all day long: pepperoni pizza, cheese pizza, sausage pizza." (dreamy voice, sort of like Bubba waxing elogquent about shrimp in Forrest Gump). So, I said, "What do you tell your friends that your mommy does all day?" And Eamon said, "Well, pretty much I don't really talk about that."
Liam got his first set of golf clubs for his birthday in May but we haven't had a chance to use them yet. I told the boys I would take them to the driving range. As we were getting in the car, my husband told Eamon (age 4), "When you are older, I'll teach you how to be a great golfer." To which Eamon replied, "Well, I'm already amazing." Turns out he is pretty amazing for a 4 year old, and Liam needs left-handed clubs.
The kids love swimming in the pool. The last few years, we've been able to keep it open until Columbus Day because the weather has been amazing and the heater works. Eamon will only swim with the assistance of a pink-dinosaur flotation device. God, he loves that thing and I've already told him he can't take it to the YMCA when he starts swimming lessons next week.
Liam loves jumping, diving, and being thrown into the air. My husband can thrown him to the moon. I suppose that will change once Liam finally establishes a body mass index that actually registers on a scale.
I started classes this week too. I am teaching the same grad course at UMBC as well as a bunch of professional development courses for different business. My first email from a student this semester asked, "I hear your course is really difficult. I am a straight A student. Will I be able to get an A in your course?" How am I supposed to answer that? Oh wait, I know: "Not if you keep sending me emails like this."
I am also taking a Research Designs class at Plymouth State University, where I was accepted to continue my post-graduate studies, and eventually earn my EdD. Research Design wasn't my first choice this semester, but it's a course I need to take, so might as well get it over with. The good news, is that I think it is going to harmonize nicely with Constructivist Instructional Design (C-ID) (Jerry W. Willis, 2009) a book I recently purchased. I have been asked to design, develop and deliver a new grad course at UMBC and I am thinking that this book will be the basis how/what I design.
My husband and I recently attended a wedding together, which is always great fun. The wedding and the reception were delightful and I think my husband was the most handsome man there. He wore a three-piece suit. And if i must say so myslef, he is single-handedly bringing back the vest. He had cuff links too. Now, if only he had pulled out a pocket watch. I might have lost my mind.
I love Californication. It is the saddest, truest love story ever told. Thank you David Duchovny.