Pumpkins

I need to admit something difficult: I don't enjoy carving pumpkins.

It seems this time of year that our tradition of slaughtering pumpkins and creating ghoulish faces on them is overrated. I always hear people discuss the fun and joy of pumpkin creation, yet I have not enjoyed carving pumpkins as a parent yet.

Yes, we always carve.

Yes, the kids are always proud.

Yes, I put a smile on my face.

Ultimately, it is the adults that do the work while the kids half cheer you on and then leave the room for you to finish the work.

Yesterday was no different. I started the carving myself loosening up all the pumpkins seeds so that the extraction would be easier. The boys came in and then mostly emptied the seeds on their own. The most fun for them came with allowing them to create their faces with markers. Andrew and Brendan created faces, but Evan attempted a masterpiece. He had marker all over his pumpkin in an effort to create the most frightening pumpkin he could.

Then, I turned the dirty work over the my dad and Chris. They were the pumpkin carvers who then took the kids designs and created their own inspirations.

Eventually, the kids and parents all finished the pumpkins and the end result was three spooky pumpkins to place on our porch tonight.

I am sorry to be a pumpkin Scrooge. The kids loved the look of their pumpkins and the candle glow emanating from them. It just seems a lot of work for a small result. Bah-Boo-- Humbug.

A mummy, a race, and a line

My parents arrived late Tuesday night for a visit with our family. Area schools are out for two days this week for a teacher convention, so mom and dad came to help. I greeted them at 9pm on Tuesday evening with the busy schedule awaiting them for Wednesday.

A mummy. ..

Mom's job on Wednesday was to take Evan to his preschool Halloween party. They arrived at his school in time to begin the daunting task of wrapping all the preschoolers in toilet paper so that they could be mummies for their costumes.

Once the mummies were wrapped, the teachers and grandma led the kids on a trick or treat parade to the local businesses.

They finished their morning with a smorgasbord of food at Evan's preschool for their Halloween party.

The race. . .


Dad didn't get to sit and just rest, however. I put him to work as well. Dad had to go and watch the annual Pumpkin Run at Eagle Point where each grade races laps around the outside of the boys school to crown a Pumpkin Race winner.


I sent dad with a video camera, but I have no idea how to load footage, so use your imagination.


Andrew ended up in 3rd place out of all the 3rd grade boys. Brendan won 2nd place! They were thrilled and awarded pint-sized pumpkins as a rewards.


The line. . .


Every Halloween that we have lived here, the student organizations at our local high school host a Trick or Treat night at the school. This year they did it before actual Halloween. So, we ate our dinner last evening, and after a long tantrum-producing argument with Evan, we journeyed to the high school. We were greeted with a gargantuan line.

When I took this picture, we had already waited for about 20 minutes in the line and still had at least 10-15 left to wait.

When you get in the school, each organization takes a classroom and decorates it however they please, then the kids can go from door to door trick or treating. The really spooky classrooms would elicit statements like "This is awesome" from the intrepid four year old of our group. The older boys were not as brave.

After they weave through the trick or treat stations, they had the option of braving a Haunted House. Neither Andrew nor Brendan would even contemplate the notion; however, Evan was thrilled. Nonetheless, as he got ready to enter, his nerves best him and he also left the line.

More Halloween fun awaits this week. . .

Meet Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Meet Dr. Jekyll. . .

Look at this sad little face. This past weekend Evan had many "Jekyll" moments where he was out of control. If you look closely at this picture, you can see the tear on his face from his most recent meltdown.

He had meltdowns about everything: having to change his clothes, getting an Eagles shirt instead of a Steelers shirt from dad (He now won't take off the Eagles shirt!), or just because he wanted to cry. Trying to rationalize with him was impossible and utterly pointless.

You can also see from this picture his lovely outfit. He has his Badgers sweatshirt with his new Eagles T-shirt under that comes to his knees. Under the shirt are his Browns football pants. This is what he wore outside in the 40 degree weather to play football despite his mother's pleadings to do otherwise.

Jekyll would slam himself on the floor, screaming and kicking in hopes that we would cave in. (We never do. . . )

Meet Mr. Hyde:

Evan had so many purely priceless moments as well this weekend. When he wants to turn on the charm, he exceeds all expectations.

Here he was playing with this precious pumpkin present that he received from his Aunt Tif a few years ago. He was so thrilled to get his picture taken with it. Doesn't he look so sweet?

Evan loves to cuddle and sit in my lap. He never wants to feel like he isn't getting equal time to the other boys. He will look at me with those beautiful brown eyes in such a way that I am nearly brought to tears.

He challenges me in ways my other boys never did at this age. The constant battle between his ups and downs proves challenging on a daily basis. One thing never wavers, however: how very much I love this little man.

My fantasy obssession

In high school my idea of being athletic involved performing the perfect cheer or keeping my hair perfect while running the mile in track. I wasn't a much better spectator. I remember enduring hours of PGA golf viewing compliments of my dad and brothers as well as any Cleveland sports activities.

When I had three boys, I knew that my perspective on sports would probably change. Yet, I was surprised this year to have it changed from something unexpected: Fantasy Football.

My friend Corina, who I teach with, was asked to participate in the school's Fantasy Football league; she responded that she would only do it with a partner. That became me.

When she and I sat at the FF League draft before school started, I was amused at how serious the other "team owners" were. We all silently consulted our notes to decide who would be the next pick. Sometimes adulation was awarded to a team who made a solid pick; sometimes heckling ensued. Nonetheless, we left that day with what we believed was a decent team.

In the past eight weeks, however, I have transformed from a passive sports viewer into a legitimate sports fan, cheering my players and censuring the non-performers. Corina and I have the most intense conversations deliberating on whether someone's head injury makes them ineligible for the game. We know which teams have a strong running game, and we know which defenses won't let our guys score. We fanatically add and delete players from our list in the hopes of winning a game.

On Sunday I am constantly checking my box score to see how my players are performing. (For today we are winning, but our competitor still has a player tomorrow.)

So far, we are 4-3 in the league, placing us in 4th place out of 10. Not bad for the newbies, but not good enough for our standards. We are constantly striving to be the best, allowing our competitive nature to get the best of us.

Fantasy Football is so much more than a game for us. It has become my hobby and an opportunity to have fun with one of my dearest friends.

It's all in the numbers. ..

Numbers have been on my mind a lot lately. And, as an English teacher, numbers are truly not my forte. Nonetheless, my life seems to be all about the numbers.

It is usually at this point in the school year where my life gets crazy. Papers are piling up, grades are due soon, and students are impatient. Why can't I keep up? Let's look at the numbers.

68 -- the number of students I have in my junior/senior writing class
2- the number of writing assignments they turn in per week on average
10- the average amount of time it takes me to grade ONE of the student's papers

Quick math--

1,400 -- the approximate amount of minutes it would take me to grade all of this work per week

Supposing a person is awake ten hours a day, it would take me about 2 and a half days uninterrupted a week to grade all of this.

But, I'm not done.

49-- the number of freshman in my two E9 classes
1-- the number of writing assignments they turn in on average a week
10-- the time it takes to grade one assignment

Quick math--

500- The approximate minutes it takes to grade their work as well.

These classes add another day to my grading load.

With all of this, I still need to find time to be a mom, wife, PTO president, church committee member, reunion committee member, and much more.

I am exhausted.

You might suggest that an easy solution that would please the students as well would be to assign less work. However, that doesn't work for me. I believe in making students work hard. I believe that unless they are pushed, some students never know how much they can truly achieve. I believe that work ethic offers a student much more than an A or B in class.

So, with that, the numbers don't lie. I am a workhorse from now until June.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Really? Girls already?

In kindergarten a little boy named Patrick kissed me on the cheek. I was totally grossed out. I remember him chasing me on the playground, and I was in flight, working to get away from the "boy cooties."

What is it about boys and girls that make us so repelled and attracted to each other at the same time?

Having three boys, I knew the day would come where the conversation of gender would come into play. I just didn't know it would be so soon.

Brendan has been hinting that some girls at school have told him they had a crush on him. We asked what he thought that meant, and he said that the girls want to be his girl friend. Woah! Girlfriend? Not in second grade. . .

Then, yesterday he came home and told me I couldn't answer the doorbell if someone rang it. Puzzled, I inquired, "Why?" He said that one of his friends dared this little girl down the road to ring the doorbell and give him a hug. He was totally freaked out. He kept looking out the window to make sure she wasn't coming. (Of course, this was one of the little girls that said she had a crush on him.) How long until his friends are daring them to do worse things? YIKES!

Furthermore, at the same dinner Andrew told us he had a terrible day at school. Almost afraid of the answer, I asked, "Why?" He was reticent at first, but then confessed that he had to dance with a girl during music. We tried to make light of it by explaining that learning to dance with a girl is a nice thing. He wasn't buying it. Luckily, I think girls still gross him out. We still have a little while longer.

I am sure that if I read this same message in 5-6 years, I would laugh at the simplicity of our current girl problems. But for now, I am still reeling. Girls?? Already??

Ev's Bunk beds

It seems that a requirement of being young is having bunk beds at some point. I know that I had a hand-me-down set from my older cousin Sher that I shared with my sister. I remember jumping onto her bed every morning as a friendly wake up call on my way to the shower.

This week we decided that it was time the Doucette household fulfilled our bunk bed requirement. Evan had long ago outgrown his tiny toddler bed, yet his parents hadn't taken the initiative to give him a cozier sleeping quarter. With some quick shopping on Craig's List, we came upon the perfect set for our house.

Chris worked hard all day today rebuilding the set in our home. The boys have quickly adapted by making the beds their new fort.
Evan and Brendan were playing spies on the top bunk.

Evan is showing off the bottom bunk. We were blessed to have friends give us both of these Spiderman comforters. Evan is thrilled! (Ignore his outfit- I have no idea who dresses him everyday!)

We have a little hesitation about Evan climbing the ladder. He insists he will sleep up top. We are just worried about the sleepy 2am potty break. Stay tuned for future blogs. . .

For now, we will see how Evan adjusts. As you can clearly see from this picture, Evan is thrilled to be a real "big boy" now.

Friday Photo Fiesta: Change of scenery

I am feeling a bit nostalgic this week. The "honeymoon" period is over at school. The kids are restless. The teachers are buried in work.

So, I have been thinking about our summer vacation and reminiscing a little. We have also been remembering the Tetons because they just got buried in snow this week. Yes, October! And it's buried. We looked at live footage and just laughed at the amounts of snow present.

Here are my pictures from summer that I am looking to for some nostalgic comfort!

Haircut

Last night I got my haircut. I only oblige myself about two times a year to do it, so when I do it, I do it right.

Sitting in the chair getting my hair washed, I was almost falling asleep. My stylist massaged my scalp for about ten minutes, and for just that time, I was completely at peace. I didn't think about whose homework I needed to check, I didn't think about packing lunches, and I didn't think about the mess that I now call my house. I just whimpered and cooed at the bliss of pampering for ME!

When I walked in the house last night, I did not receive overwhelming approval of my new cut. Chris responded with, "Well, I can tell you got it cut." Brendan told me I cut it too short, and the other two just looked at me quizzically. As for me, I can't decide yet. I think I will like it in a few weeks growth time.

Here I am sporting me new do! Andrew took a picture this morning. Sorry for the silly look on my face. Andrew wasn't giving much warning!

Let it all out

Grin, smile, chuckle, snicker, giggle, laugh, roar. All of these words embody a positive exhibit of emotion, yet they all denote a slightly different meaning.

On a daily basis, I will grin. I grin at my kids when they catch a pass playing football in the yard. I grin at a neighbor walking by my house.

I smile. I smile at everyone. I believe putting a smile on your face makes not only you feel better, but it also makes others around you feel better as well. So, I smile at everyone who is in my presence.

I chuckle. I chuckle a lot. A chuckle is that slight laugh that you give when a television show tells a humorous story. I chuckle at Evan when he pretends to shoot the birds with his hands on the way home. I chuckle at myself when I trip walking up the stairs.

I giggle. My giggle permeates a room when I am feeling silly. I remembering giggling with my college friend Heidi so much that we would have stomach pains the next day from overuse our muscles!

And, I laugh! I have one of those laughs that is not soft and demure. My laugh is one of those that seems to be born of a vocal lesson where the teacher tells you to "sing from your stomach." Well, I laugh from my stomach. When I truly laugh at something, I feel amazingly better. I laugh at a funny sentence created in a grammar lesson. I laugh at a student teaching me a new slang term. I laugh at myself when I burn dinner.

In the last twenty four hours, I have been giddily laughing. I am not sure why. It began when last evening after a day of school, a two hour department meeting, and four hours of parent teacher conferences. I was exhausted and had been in the school building for over 12 hours. A colleague came into the room at the end of the evening to chat, and we found ourselves laughing. Not a giggle, not a chuckle, but a tear-producing, red-faced, couldn't-stop-if-wanted-to laugh. We laughed about a student's choice of words, we laughed about the heat of the room I was in, we laughed about nothing.

Well, that exhilaration from my laugh-fest carried into today. Over the course of the day, I felt myself quick to giggle slightly at the smallest incident. Then, during my third hour class, I just lost it. Honestly, I can not recall what set me off, but I just laughed. Uncontrollably. My shoulders were shaking; I was trying to stop. Each time I gained composure, I would try to talk about commas and think how funny that seemed to me, and I would just bust out laughing. It got to the point where I was actually beginning to be embarrassed. I am a professional, and I just couldn't stop!

I am not sure why my giddiness has emerged temporarily, but my spirit has been the recipient of a cathartic lift from my laughing. My cheeks honestly hurt from the amount of smiling I have done in the last day. Maybe you should give it a try.

Initiative

Evan had us laughing again yesterday. Chris and I complimented his initiative. Evan demurely asked us, "What is initiative?" We replied simply "doing something without waiting for mom and dad."

What did he do??

Carved a pumpkin by himself.

Now, before you call social services for us allowing our son to wield a pumpkin carving tool, let me fill you in on the back story.

Evan went on a field trip to a Pumpkin Patch with his home school preschool. Each child proudly picked a pumpkin of their choice. This was over two weeks ago. Evan has been longingly asking us to carve the pumpkin consistently. Yet we reminded him that Halloween is still weeks away, and we will carve it later.

Again, yesterday he asked us to carve the pumpkin. Again, we said No. So when Evan was playing outside and Chris and I were inside, he took matters into his own hands.

When I opened the garage door to check on him, he was sitting on the stairs with a pair of scissors "carving" his pumpkin. He looked at me and said, "No one was going to help me, so I am carving it." I just smiled and shut the door.

A few minutes later he came in with pumpkin and scissors to show his handiwork. Here are the results.

Now, what do you think of Ev's initiative?

Friday Photo Fiesta: Evan's fort

Hello Candid Carrie visitors for another fun Friday Photo!


Remember building forts when you were little? As a little girl, I only minimally built forts as I was too busy playing school and house with my Barbie's. But, I know lots of little boys can attest to the joy of your very own fort.

This week my youngest decided that he was going to make a fun fort to play in on our basement floor. Blankets and removable couch cushions made the most inventive fort we have had here.


Evan promptly put his stuffed pika to "sleep" on top of the fort. See it there in the left corner?

As Evan got ready for bed Sunday evening, he said that he doesn't want the pika to be lonely so he should sleep down in his fort. Chris and I looked at each other doubtful that this was a good idea, but we consented. He woke up many times that night: confused and disoriented. The next night he also wanted to sleep in it. Begrudgingly, we caved in to his command.

He slept like an angel. Even my blow drying did not wake him up the next morning.

Unfortunately, a wrestling match that ensued with his brothers the next evening destroyed his fort, so he had to go back to his bed. I am sure this is not the last fort we will see at our home.

Thanks for playing with me today! Click on Carrie's link on my blog roll to head back to her site!

You're fine!

Being the mom of three boys, I am constantly addressing the plethora of bumps, bruises, and ailments that my boys complain about. Because of the heaps of complaints I receive, my apathy about the severity of the complaint culminates with this phrase: You're fine!

Brendan scrapes his knee. You're fine. Put a band aid on.
Andrew hurt his foot. You're fine. Just use the other one.
Evan was tackled by both brothers. You're fine, Ev. Be tough.

This same attitude is pervasive throughout all illnesses. In the past week, all of the boys have been sick, yet due to our busy lives, I am not overly sympathetic.

Evan started it all last week with a nasty cold that had him wheezing profusely. We gave him some albuterol for the wheezing and benadryl for the dripping nose, and I sent him to school. Ev, you're fine. You don't want to miss the leaf drawing today, right?

Then, Brendan was sick at the start of this week. Brendan is on daily steroids for his asthma, so a cold is not welcome for him. He got Evan's cold and was coughing incessantly due to his asthma. Again, on Monday we loaded him up with meds and sent him on his way. Brendan, you're fine. If you really need me, call. But, I think you're fine. Did he call? What do you think? Of course, not! He was fine. (Not really, but he thought he could finish the day.)

Now is Andrew's turn. This one is tougher. He started with just a cold, but then he also started wheezing. Andrew won't admit he has asthmatic tendencies, so he is a little tougher to help. Yet yesterday he looked at us and ASKED for a breathing treatment. Yikes. Last night he came home from school with a fever, and he also woke up in the middle of the night with a fever. When I told him that he may not be able to go to school, he replied, "Mom, I'm fine. Tomorrow's gym day."

You're fine, Andrew? I thought so. . .

P.S. He hasn't woke up yet today for me to offer the final answer of School or No School?

Rivalry: Part Two

The Big 10 has incredible rivalries. My favorite, of course, is OSU and Michigan. However, all Big 10 teams play competitively with each other. That is why when I was asked if I would like to go see OSU and the Badgers on Saturday, it was a quick "You bet!" as a response.

My friend Corina, who I work with at Waunakee, and her husband are both UW grads, so they have strong ties to UW. We had planned to hang out and watch the game together anyways. So, when tickets from her husbands work fell into her lap, we leapt at the chance to go to the game.


As we arrived in downtown Madison, we were so excited to witness a virtual sea of red pulsing with excitement down the roads. Everywhere you looked vibrant reds dominated the eye. I was pleased to only be verbally assaulted a few times wearing my Buckeye shirt in Badger land.

Corina and her husband had four seats: two in the loge and two in the stands. Corina and I took the first half outside. Our seats were only 18 rows from the Buckeye bench on the 40 yard line. The tickets were amazing! We were so close to the field, and could see every move the players made. It was humorous watching us in the half as I would stand and cheer for the Buckeye first downs and scores, while Corina and the rest of the nearby crowd would cheer for the Badgers.

The half quickly passed, and we switched spots with our hubbies and watched the second half from the loge. One of my favorite moments is a Badger tradition where between the 3rd and 4th quarter, they play "Jump Around" and the student section just jumps up and down. It is so incredible to watch thousands of students jump up; even the Buckeye players caught the fever and jumped a little!

Near the end of the game as the Buckeyes were getting ready to score, I was a little tense; I wanted to win! Chris said that as he and Corina's Chris watched the Buckeyes score, my Chris literally jumped up mimicking the Touchdown motion, while her Chris buried his head in his hands.

It was an incredible game. We had so much fun and were so grateful that we could witness this remarkable rivalry with such wonderful people!

Rivalry Part One

Army vs. Navy; OSU vs. Michigan; Browns vs Steelers

All of these represent great rivalries. This weekend I was privy to watching two amazing rivalries unfold in a sports-packed frenzy.

Friday evening had been long anticipated by the students at Waunakee, the high school I teach at. They were playing their biggest rival, DeForest, where I live! The Waunakee and DeForest rival originated long ago probably in part due to the close proximity of their locations. Sometimes this rivalry turns bitter; it is rarely amicable.

Last year Waunakee football went undefeated in the regular season, only to be beat by the underdogs, Deforest in the playoffs. So, this year, they were out for revenge.

The atmosphere at the school on Friday was incredibly energy-charged. Students were adorned in black garb as both schools adorn Purple as their main color. With this, one school often calls a "Black Out" where they wear black to differentiate themselves from the other team.

As we got ready for the game, I invited another DeForest family over for pizza and football for the pre-game.

As we walked into the game, I, wearing my Waunakee shirt in the midst of Norski wearing people, couldn't help but buy into the rivalry. The crowds were chanting and cheering. Loud roars from each side would deafen the other when something exciting would happen. It was an amazing atmosphere to be in.

There were so many people that we couldn't even sit. Our family actually stood for the first half of the game in the chilly October air. At half time we caved into the fatigue and cold and went home to just listen to the ending.

The game ended with Waunakee on top by at least one touchdown. (It may have been more.) However, I think the rivalry is far from over. . .

Genetics works

My brother sent me a new picture this week of McCamey. When I opened it, I was startled at the similaries between her and Jeff. You be the judge!

She will definitely be daddy's little girl.

Friday Photo Fiesta: Wishy Washy

I can't make up my mind lately. Apparently neither can the weather. Yes, we are officially in the fall seasons, so ups and downs are pervasive.

Last week, I was wearing shorts, and the weather was near 80 degrees. This week the weather has topped out at 60. I am shivering but holding out on turning on the heater.

So, when I did a tour outside this week, I noticed that nature is also wishy-washy. This beautiful rose was adorning my front flower bed, as the lone representative of bloom.

Not even five feet away was one of my trees with this leaf, showing the ultimate sign of confusion. It is neatly divided in half by the red color.

I actually look forward to the full color conversion, but this wishy-washy nature has got to make its mind up!

Thanks for playing with me today and taking a look at my great outdoors! Head on over to Carrie's if you want to join in the fun!

Surrogate doctors?

As moms we assume many roles: mommy, doctor, playmate, psychiatrist, organizer, and many more. Why do we sometimes think, however, that this makes us qualified to just dish information out at random?

Evan is sick. He has the cold that has begun circulating and won't disappear until March now. When my children get colds, they have an asthmatic reaction where they wheeze and cough like seals each time. They are blessed with this gift from their mom.

Last night I went to the store to buy Evan some medicinal relief for his symptoms. I went to the cold aisle, scanned the thousands of options, and decided on Benadryl, some nighttime medicine, and Vapo Rub. I briskly headed to the checkout line at the store. As my grocery clerk began to check out my items and her colleague began to bag them, they miraculously turned into surrogate doctor mommies.

"Ahh. .. Do you have a little guy sick at home?"

Silly question, don't you think? I am at the store at night buying only cold medicine.

"Yes, I do."

"This Vapo Rub is the best. You know what you need to do. Put some on his neck. Wait, how old is he?

"Four"

"Ok, put some on his neck and wrap a towel around his neck to keep the warmth there. It works."

Not to be outdone by the checker, the bagger inserts her own Vapo Rub suggestion to put the lotion on his feet and put thick socks on. She repeated "Thick Socks" two times for good measure.

While I know their messages were well intended, I just had to laugh at how, as mom's, we seem to want to cure everyone. I found their advice endearing yet annoying as well.

For now, I need to go and Vapo Rub Evan up. Here come the towel and thick socks. . .