I can’t really fathom what a huge change this is going to make in my life.  Aside from two mornings a week, I’ve had Violet home with me for five years.  Five and a half.  That’s a long time to keep a tiny maniac from completing her plans of world domination.  Yes I’ll still be at home with Graham, but that is another story entirely.  I must say I am really looking forward to spending time with him.  He has been competing for attention since the day he was born and I’d love to see him relax and know he doesn’t have to try so hard.  I want to make cookies, do art projects, garden, with just him.  These are things I do with both kids, but generally Violet has to star in the show.

Which is why I am not worried about how she will do in school; even with the dual-language. I mean, in some ways I feel like I should warn her teachers, but I’d hate to give them preconceived notions.  Example: During swim lessons this summer the teen-aged instructor finally got fed up with Violet and another girl giggling and inching away from class.  They got sent into Time Out.  The girl burst into tears.  Violet looked at her with an expression of extreme surprise and said, “What are you crying for?  It just Time Out!”  I really hope her kindergarten teachers know how to channel that energy rather than sending her to endless exhile.  Her other “schools” never seemed to be able to do that.

I’ll admit it; when I was little, I was the kid who cried when disciplined. My personality is so opposite Violet’s that I often think she is some kind of alien child; like that dream I had when I was pregnant with her actually came true.   It’s clear I subconsciously assumed that if I had a girl she would be a mini-me; that I would always be able to relate to her and, thus, be better able to help her.  The truth is, although she looks more like me each day, she is a mini-Rob: outgoing, talkative, creative, high-energy, a leader, a performer, impossibly smart.  I don’t know what advice I could possibly offer to that kind of kid.  And will I understand her less and less the more she is gone?

We’re going to miss her.  She and Graham have decided they want to be twins so they can be together all day.  I just wish I could be a fly on the wall while she navigates through this next step.  I don’t want to rescue her, I just want to watch.  That would be the best reality TV show ever.

While we were on Long Island we went to visit Nana at the Arbors Assisted Living.  Bringing children to a nursing home is like bringing a cake to a Weight Watchers meeting.  The old folks gathered around, looking like they wanted to reach out and pet the kids, inhale them, eat them up.  Nana, filled with anxiety over this, would loudly proclaim to anyone creeping near, “OKAY, SEE YOU LATER. LATER! I’M TRYING TO TALK TO MY FAMILY.  GOOD-BYE! GO TO THE TV ROOM!! NOW!!”  She used her walker to block anyone’s access to the kids.  At one point I thought she would pick it up and  beat back an old lady who was stretching her hand toward Graham’s hair.  Another elderly woman tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Enjoy the children now.  It goes so fast.”

This is something I’ve heard so many times it makes me cringe.   Of course I know that.  But it’s hard to fathom when lack of sleep doubles the length of your days, or when tantrums last several hours, or when food you’ve spent too much time preparing gets refused, or when any request turns into an argument, or when any errand is a mammoth effort of logistics.  These have been the slowest quickest years of my life.

But I’m finally starting to really feel the passage of time.  This has a lot to do with more sleep, fewer tantrums, kids who sometimes listen to reason and occasionally put on their clothes and get in the car without major drama.  I first noticed it in February: The Month of Sick.  It’s amazing how losing 1/12th of the year can make time feel slippery.  March through May always speeds by in Austin because the weather is so amazing and the town is buzzing with festivals and hiking and weekends packed with fun.  Soon it was June.  The rest of the summer has been non-stop visits from family and friends as well as travel to  Buffalo, the beach, Long Island and Oregon.  Time has been condensed because we’re working around a new schedule: Kindergarten.

It starts ridiculously early here in Texas.  On August 23rd Violet will be gone from 7:15-2:45.  And every day after that.  Then time really will fly.  I’m trying to slow it down.  But I’m not really sure if it’s possible to “enjoy the children” enough.  Or how.  No one has told me that part yet.

So, I was going to do a whole long post about the World Cup, because this time we’ve got a kid playing soccer. And really, I only watch sports about once every four years, give or take Wimbledon.

But then I realized I’ve already done that. It’s still apt.  So I’ll save myself the effort. Check it out.  The last line just blows my mind.

This year we had a lot working for us: Graham is in a regular bed, the kids are expert travelers, missing a nap doesn’t lead to the apocalypse.  But it was still a million trillion degrees.

So when the boy woke up at 1:30 a.m. he was hot.  Very hot.  And pissed.  And confused.  There was a lot of screaming and rearranging and screaming and changing tents and screaming and offers to leave and screaming and peeing in the woods and screaming.  Things finally settled down around 2:30.

At 7 a.m. the mamas and kids were back home eating breakfast.  The dads, thankfully, cleaned up camp.  All in all it was an improvement.  And we learned that camping can be done.  It will just NEVER be done during the Texas summer again.  As with gardening, I’ve learned my lesson.

But all of this has made me homesick; homesick for “real” camping.  I mean the camping I remember as a kid: smelling the pine forests, following deer trails, throwing lava rocks into clear streams to see if they float, actually needing a fire during the chilly evenings.  But here we have Texas camping; getting stabbed by pointy plants, unable to veer off the path for fear of scorpions and poisonous snakes (we’ve got them all!), watching for water moccasins in murky streams, no campfire because of drought-induced burn bans.  It’s just not what I’m used to growing up in the Northwest.  And I wish I could experience NW camping with Violet and Graham.

So we’ll try winter camping here in Texas.  Or spring camping.  I’m sure it has its charms.  And maybe my kids will love their own camping memories:  hiding cactus in each other’s sleeping bags, snake scavenger hunts, tossing scorpions in the river to see if they float, etc…

My big gardening project this year was to build up a bed along the south side of our house.

I finally bought seeds & starts that actually have a chance of growing in this climate, rather than  basing my purchases on the catalog’s pretty pictures and hopeful descriptions.  So spring was a very successful season.

Aaaaand then the garden succumbs  to summer.  The bugs invade, the mold sweeps in, the heat scorches.  It’s a losing battle that we’re not actually supposed to be fighting.

So I’ve mulched the plants and stepped back.  I’ll water enough to keep them alive until the fall, when I’ll probably get a bumper crop.  Then I can begin the second gardening season in earnest.  How great is it that we get fresh produce through winter?  It almost makes up for living on the surface of the sun for 4 months of the year.

into this:

I got to use circular, jig, table and miter saws, electric drill, screwdriver and sander, power stapler, clamps, levels, squares, saw horses, wrenches, hammers, not to mention all sorts of timber and hardware.  I was like a kid in a candy store.  In fact, it was so fun I spent most of my kid-free time working on the coop.

It was a lot more complicated than I initially though (isn’t that always the case?) but I like the design.  I downloaded it for $20 from The Garden Coop. (No, I am not one of those people who can throw together a structure using intuition and scrap material)  Then I spent about $270 on supplies and fancy-schmancy non-toxic paint.  A little pricey?  But consider that a pre-fab coop of this size runs a couple thousand dollars at least.

So, let’s say I save $10 a month on organic free-range eggs.  That means the chickens will pay for themselves in about two and a half years…

oh wait… I forgot I have to feed them… damn.

Violet is starting dual language kindergarten this fall!  This is the culmination of three years of hard work and, while it didn’t turn out exactly how I’d hoped, I am SO excited.  And terrified.  And relieved.  And… well… let’s just say there is a lot to think about.

Here’s our journey in a nutshell:

We moved to Austin after teaching English in Korea for 3 years.  I got into the Foreign Language Education Master’s program at UT.  After Violet was born I wondered what dual language program she would attend, only to realize that there isn’t one here.

So I started my own website to to to mobilize like-minded locals.  Then I joined forces with Austin Community School, a proposed dual language charter, and eventually became board secretary.  This was the only DL game in town.  What happened for the next 3 years was a lesson in how ridiculous, frustrating, and scary bureaucracy and educational politics can be, especially in Texas.   Add this to the usual strains of recruiting and working with volunteers in the world of non-profits and the result is a lot of work for not a lot of reward.

So ACS is not open… yet.  But what about Violet and Graham?  The way dual language education works is that kids start in kinder or 1st grade and stick with the program for at least 5 years.  If Violet misses that window she’s out of luck.

Thankfully a new superintendent swept into Austin, turning the district’s long held belief about bilingual education on its head.  ACS joined in the effort to get a DL program started in AISD.  Their board eventually voted to start 4 pilot programs this fall.

They held a lottery for the limited number of slots, and we won a spot!  Unfortunately, the program isn’t in our neighborhood school.  But it is in a school close to Rob’s work.  He’ll drop Violet off every morning.

So this is the end of the beginning.  Now we see exactly what we’ve gotten ourselves into.  I have ridiculous amounts to say on the subject.  And you know what that means…  a New Blog!  Yes, I’ll be pontificating about dual language immersion and our journey towards becoming a bilingual family.   It’s called “¿Y Ahora Que?” and so far there is absolutely nothing on it.  But put it in your feed reader anyway.

I didn’t tell the kids what we were doing, so they couldn’t understand why we were wandering around a strange store full of farm equipment.  Then they heard it: a cacophony of peeping.  A small back room housed shelves  and shelves of day old chicks and one crabby old lady.  Out of the breeds they had available, I chose an Australorp, an Ameraucana and a Brahma for their supposed friendliness, hardiness and egg-laying prowess.  The crabby old lady plucked them off the shelves and put them in a cardboard box.

We bought a feeder and waterer, then took them home to set them up in their terrarium.  The  coop is almost done, but they won’t be able to move in for a few weeks yet.  We have to wait for their adult feathers to come in so they can keep themselves warm.

Violet thinks they are the best thing ever.  In fact, she just about loves them to death, literally, every time she picks them up: squeezing them, carrying them around in a hat, forcing them to play in the dollhouse, putting them in Graham’s tricycle trunk, etc.

Graham, on the other hand, thinks they’re cute at a distance, but doesn’t want much to do with them.

They already have their own little personalities and are hilarious to watch.  Migas the Ameraucana would rather not associate with humans.  She’s loud and fast and protective of her chick friends.

Penny the Australorp thinks Violet is her mommy.  She’ll happily sit on Violet’s lap, fall asleep in her hand, or hang out while the other chicks run away.

Henrietta (aka: Henny) the Brahma seems a little bird-brained and follows Migas around like she’s the most popular chick in school.

Pearl the cat  just ignores them, so far.

Now we have a total of 6 pets.  But we’ll have fresh eggs in about 5 months.  Exactly what will the cat and fish do to justify their existence?  I should really start charging them rent.

Yup, pretty soon we should have our own little backyard flock to lay for us and poop on our yard.  We’re excited.  Okay… I’M excited.  I grew up with chickens.  It was my job to collect the eggs.  And ever since then I’ve been spoiled for those flavorless store-bought chicken-factory imitations.  We’ve been buying eggs from the farmers’ market, but they’re up to $4.50 a dozen!  I’m all for supporting small farmers, but ouch.

So we’re taking the leap.  But since my childhood chicken duty did not include the logistics, I’ve had to do some research. The city law in Austin states you can keep a few backyard chickens, but no roosters.  And the coop has to be 50 feet from the surrounding houses.  No problem.  I’m working on the coop right now.  (With all my free time I should be done in the next decade. Must employ more child labor.)

We borrowed a little tank to keep the chicks in until they get big enough for the coop. (Thanks Rebecca!)  We’ve gone to the Funky Coop Tour.  We’ve read the books.  The kids have played with real live chicks (without injury to either party).  They cannot wait.

Who wants fresh eggs?

Now, I eventually learned to not be terrified of making phone calls, but it has never been my favorite thing.  (Okay, yes Dad, I admit to a phone fling in my teen years, but teenagers are just not normal.)  These days there is the double annoyance of children who cling to my leg and screech any time the receiver is next to my ear. I’m doomed.

Halle-freakin-lujah that the internet was invented.  This is a phone-a-phobe’s dream.  Why spend 15 minutes making a call when you can just shoot off an email that everyone can read at their leisure?

But I may have taken it too far.

Here I am today: Telephone Distaste + Email = Annoyed Friends and Family

Yes, I have managed to irk quite a few people because of my weirdness.  I’m sorry. I promise it’s not my intention.  And I promise I’ll try to be better.  But if it’s a yes or no question, can we meet halfway?  In cyberspace?  Thank you for  mollifying the crazy lady.

Here’s a picture from long ago.  But there is a phone, so it’s apt, right?  And Violet’s expression kind of sums it all up for me.