Back-to-school! Not exactly . . .

This morning as I was still half asleep with two wide-eyed and bushy-tailed babies crawling around my feet, I kissed Ben goodbye and wished him good luck on his first day of classes. It was then that reality set in for me.  For the first time in 25 years, I am not headed back-to-school.  From prancing into preschool many moons ago to waddling into my own classroom last year with a warning for my new students: "I am pregnant and hormonal.  Don't make me angry."--I can't remember a time in my life before school.  Until now.

As strange as it sometimes is to look back on what my life used to be, this morning I began to realize that my day with two nine month old babies appears strangely similar to what I've done for the last six years . . . teaching middle schoolers. 

Case in point:

1. Lunchtime is like spending 25 minutes in a jungle.  Last year it involved weeding through a sea of kids and fighting over the use of a microwave with my 13 year old students.  Now it involves scarfing down a sandwich with one hand and picking up soggy half-chewed food with the other.

2. Dress code violations galore!  Last year boys with droopy drawers and girls with short skirts went running if they saw me in the hall with a warning slip.  This year I spend my day with two kids who I think purposefully mess up their clothes so that they can chill in their diapers. 

3. Nonstop noise.  Have you ever walked through a middle school hallway at 3:00?  Enough said.  Now instead of screechy laughs and squeals, my day sounds and looks like a kiddie casino. Apparently, toys that make annoying sounds and flash lights into baby's eyes are good for their development.

4. Grades.  The end of my day used to involve unleashing my red pen on a pile of papers.  Now it involves this conversation:
Ben: How were the boys today?
Lindsay: Pretty good.  I give Hudson a B+ and Corbin an A-.
Ben: Not bad.  But room for improvement.
Lindsay: Yeah, we're shooting for an A+ tomorrow.  If naptime goes better, it's possible.

This list could continue for pages and pages.  From foul odor to whining to short attention spans, I've realized today that my babies are either child prodigies or that most middle schoolers revert back to babyhood.  Unfortunately, I think the latter is probably the case. 

So, although the boys and I are not technically going back-to-school, for now, our home is our classroom.  The content is different, but the students are just a little smaller and a little balder. 

Deere Dudes and Beach Bums

Everyone knows that the best perk of being a teacher are those blessed 10 weeks every year called summer break.  Oh sure, many a teacher would deny that statement and claim that "making a difference" and "leading a child to a brighter tomorrow" is the best part of their often thankless job, but those teachers must just be allergic to the sun or have really annoying in-laws whom they dread visiting every August.

Such is not the case in this family of teachers, so the countdown to summer always begins quite early in our house.  After the hectic weeks of packing, moving, and unpacking came to an end, my three boys and I still had six weeks of summer left to enjoy with each other and our extended families. 

For our first big adventure we trekked up to Michigan where Hudson and Corbin, clad head to toe in "country gear," experienced several new firsts: ice cream (including chocolate!), a tractor ride (Is this a giant toy?), and Lake Michigan (brrrrr!!!). 

Corbin meets chocolate ice cream:

  Corbin's a John Deere man from the start:

One week and seven states later, our two little vagabonds found themselves in warmer, wavier, and sharkier waters--Bethany Beach, Delaware.  There they splashed to their hearts' content, and helped Ben and I realize that we must bid a sad farewell to our carefree tanning and beach reading days.  Overtired, sand eating, sun exposed babies apparently are not a recipe for a quiet respite from life.  Go figure.

Hudson trying to catch some rays and tan his bald head:

                   

Jimmy Buffet called.  He wants his shirts back.

And so after two big road trips and several shorter trips in between, our sweet summer days come to a close.  Ben has returned to work, and the boys are getting used to the fact that during the day only one person will be making funny faces and dancing around like an idiot for their entertaining pleasure.

And the countdown to June begins yet again . . .