"Mom, do we have any oil pastels?"
This question strikes fear in the heart of a woman whose highest artistic achievement is a stick figure. But Daniel spent the last two weeks at school in a unit focused on art and has loved the exploration. Yet another benefit of his mornings away from me, since he'd never get any artistic instruction worth a hoot from me! The culmination of these two weeks was an art show this afternoon at the school. We got up from naps a bit early and headed back down to see the "gallery" and have a snack with Daniel's class.
The teachers really did a nice job displaying the variety of media they've explored--paint, photography, sculpture, watercolor, crayons, pencil and a mixed-media masterpiece. (The oil pastel is mounted at bottom right, next to the large "masterpiece.)
Of all his efforts, though, the most entertaining to us was the title he gave this piece (I think you'll have to click on it to get an image large enough to read the mounted label):
This was our second afternoon return trip to school this week. On Wednesday we went back so Edward could join his class in sending the five-year-olds off to kindergarten with a small but sweet graduation ceremony. He's already talking about how "next time it's August I'll go to kindergarten." How quickly that will come. Actually though, I found myself a bit melancholy as the first day of school approached. I truly do not dwell on the "what ifs" and "should have beens" on a daily basis, but there are certain milestones that amplify our loss of Will, and this was one of them. We decided to follow the example of another couple we heard speak about their loss a few years back, purchasing a full set of school supplies and donating them to our local elementary school. As friends with whom I'd shared my first pregnancy posted pictures of their beaming kindergartners on Facebook, it gave me some comfort to know that a child who might not have had a backpack, nap rug, reusable water bottle and other items that their classmates brought from home, was outfitted in memory of Will.
The gloom doesn't linger long though. How could it when we're surrounded by this type of exuberance?
At some point last week, it was no longer enough simply to jump from the couch. A cape was required for full superhero effect. John pulled out a couple of old shirts and we tied them on with the sleeves. The boys ran and jumped and saved the world. This is partially inspired by Edward's new Buzz Lightyear (Toy Story) fascination, but Buzz is an astronaut not a caped superhero, so there's been some adaptation. However, the catch phrase is in rotation: "To infinity, and beyond!" Edward tries to teach Daniel the proper pronunciation, but we still giggle to hear "Buzz Lightyear. In Buffinity and beyond!"
Another fictional character who is popular in our house right now: Lentil, from the Robert McCloskey book of the same title. It's about a boy who can't sing or whistle so he learns to play the harmonica. We have a plastic harmonica that the boys like to toot around. Daniel recently asked me if I know how to play "the re-monica." On Sunday morning, while I was in the shower and John was patiently trying to help Daniel in the bathroom downstairs, Edward started calling down asking if he could play his harmonica in the bathtub upstairs. (Lentil does this because "the tone is improved 100 percent.) John managed to put him off until the downstairs bathroom business was finished, but eventually, boy, pillow and harmonica were all laid out in the bathtub.
Later that day, we celebrated what would be a brief reprieve from the oppressive humidity with lunch
al fresco. We had four lovely warm days/cool nights with no air conditioning, but we're back to swamp now.
Two Saturdays ago we took a trip to Chariton to help John's grandpa celebrate his 90th birthday! We had lunch at a local restaurant where our boys impressed both their great-grandfather and the cook by chowing down on a full dinner-plate-sized pancake each. It was a small enough restaurant that the cook was the one to clear the plates and he actually asked, "Did they eat ALL of that?" Yes, these boys know how to eat. Then we played in the town square gazebo for a few minutes before heading out to the nursing home to share birthday cupcakes with John's grandma. Luckily it was a nice enough day that we could picnic under a shady tree on the grounds, giving the boys plenty of room to run without disturbing the residents. By the time we left, it was two hours past their usual nap time and they were both glassy-eyed with exhaustion. Unfortunately, the only sleep on the way home was the 20 minutes it took to get to the next town where we needed to stop for gas and bathroom. After that they would not settle. It was a long two hours back to Iowa City. My resolve against the car DVD is getting thinner by the road trip.
And finally tonight, a special birthday wish for my mom, who was not home when we called, but has a round of "Happy Birthday" waiting on her voicemail and (we hope) a card in her mailbox. Happy birthday, Mom!
Edward was "putting on lipstick," which is interesting because I could probably count on one hand the number of times he's seen me do this so I'm not sure where he took his inspiration.
Daniel had himself completely covered, practically requiring a second bath. It rubs off very easily, but by the time they were done the water was kind of a dingy grey. Ugh.
They tried coloring on each other, but found they preferred to keep things more personal.
We got the mirror so they could see what they looked like. John was pretty proud of this "artistic" frame.
There was also a bouncy castle.
On our way back to the car, the boys stopped to play "real music" at the outdoor piano on our pedestrian plaza. Earlier in the week they'd wanted to stop to play but someone was actually playing with sheet music and I told them it wasn't their turn because someone was "playing real music." Perhaps someday they'll have a "real" duet.
