School In Our Jammies

Dear Auntie Jenny,

We need your help.  This week Oma told us a story about you, and frankly, we’re not sure what to make of it. You see, we have been told several “stories” of late, mostly by Opa.  He’s all into mountain lions knocking one of us off a horse named “Laredo”, another of us whipping out a sword to fight the wildcat, and the third one bandaging wounds and carrying the injured to the doctor.  Recognizing fact from fiction in Opa’s narratives is simple. But we’re not so sure about Oma.  Honestly, we wonder if she also has an affinity for exaggeration?  Maybe does she add a few details to enhance the storyline?  This is what she said about you; please let us know if it’s the truth.

Using Letter “X” day as her excuse, Oma told us about how you broke your foot. She said that last January you were climbing on a rock that was inside a building, and you fell off it. Thankfully, the floor was covered by a squishy mat. But unthankfully, your foot twisted when you landed and you said, “ouch!”  Little did you know then, but you had fractured something called a “calcaneus bone”.  Oma made us say that word! Then she made Auntie Erin put her foot on the table she could point to a calcaneus bone!

The next day you went to Urgent Care. You had to hop on your good foot because your hurt foot was very sore.  A smart physician’s assistant said, “Look at your poor, swollen, purple foot, Jenny! You will need an x-ray so that I can see what’s wrong with it.”  (See how Oma managed to incorporate our letter-of-the-week with your accident?  She is clever, we must admit.)

We did not know about x-rays, so Oma explained that x-rays were pictures of the inside of you.  This is weird.  She says we all have bones inside of us (do we really? That is hard to believe) and that if we break one of them, we must get an x-ray so a doctor can fix it.  Your x-rays showed that you broke your calcaneus bone not just in one place – but in lots of places!  And, that you would need to go see a special bone doctor called an orthopedist.

Well, that special bone doctor operated on your foot and fixed it right up.  Oma did not explain what an operation was, so we are still in the dark about that.  (Maybe we’ll figure it out when we’re older.)  Anyway, the orthopedist took more x-rays of your foot after he operated on it, and Oma showed us those:

She pointed out that now, instead of just bones, you have some metal inside your foot!  Oma said you have eleven screws in there, then she made us count to eleven!  We counted correctly, but we had to use one more finger than we have on our two hands!  Wow. We wanted to know when the metal will come out, and Oma said never.  Never is a long time, we know that much.

Last of all, Oma had a craft for us.  We made pretend x-rays of our hands, and while she threw out words like “carpels, metacarpals, and phalanges”, we ignored her and concentrated on gluing Q-tips in the right places.  Hooray for us!

So, Auntie Jenny.  What did you think of Oma’s story?  Are there any details in need of correction?  Be sure and let us know, okay.  By the way, congratulations on being able to walk again, finally! Although we miss your scooter, we are happy your mobility issues have been resolved.  Please come visit preschool any time.

Love from your nieces and nephew,

Miss Nomi, Miss Em, and Mr. Mo

Since its common name begins with “W”, and it’s easier to invite to preschool than walruses are, Lumbricus terrestris was our guest this day. See the list of FAQs below to appreciate the “worm of the earth”, aka the common earthworm.  And also dessert.

To which phyla does Lumbricus terrestris belong?

Earthworms are segmented worms from phylum Annelida.  In high school biology, we would say Kingdom Animalia, subgroup Invertebrata.  Earthworms don’t have backbones, which in preschool terms means that they wiggle.

Where do earthworms live?

In dirt.  Worms eat dirt and poop dirt. Preschoolers know this.

What about earthworms makes them excellent specimens for biology?

They don’t scoot, so they are easily caught.  They don’t fly, so they are easily held in hand.  They don’t hang from the bathroom ceiling, so they’re not creepy.  They are plentiful, but if you and Opa are trying to locate a few before your students arrive, you won’t find any unless you sprinkle the garden for an hour in the a.m.

Are the sexes separate in phylum Annelida?

Thanks for asking, but no.  In preschool speak, we discuss “mommy” worms, “daddy” worms, and “baby” worms, as evidenced by length.  That’s all.

What symmetry do earthworms possess?

All worms are bilaterally symmetrical, as are walruses, goats, and your mom.  Therefore, they can be cut into two identical halves by a single, longitudinal slice along their centers.  If, though, your shovel slips, you’ll realize that worms have a head and a tail; those pieces are not symmetrical.  And the little guy/gal will not survive.  (Also FYI, earthworms cannot regenerate as flatworms can.)

Don’t earthworms have five hearts?

Notwithstanding those Pinterest coloring sheets (with five, red valentine hearts perfectly spaced between the anterior and posterior ends of a smiling worm), no.  Earthworms don’t even have one heart!  But they do have aortic arches, which are heart-like pumps.

Are earthworms edible?

Absolutely.  First, they must be hidden in a cup of pudding, which is in turn sprinkled with crushed Oreos.  When offered a special treat on “W” day, preschoolers will go wild with anticipation until told they are eating dirt.  After they have realized the adults are lying and “dirt” means “chocolate”, they’ll almost dig right in.

Was “dirt ‘n worms” a treat when the mommies were kids?

Indeed it was.  In fact, Mommy Amy revealed that she was frequently disappointed at friends’ birthday parties when she realized there were no worms inside chocolate cakes.

Were her children as thrilled with gummy worms as she had been?

Eh. They’re young.  They’re learnin’.

What will preschoolers learn for Letter X?

Admittedly, “X” is problematic.  X-ray is the most likely focus, though.  Aunty Jenny, we’ll be calling for those foot x-rays, okay?

Photo cred:  Amy and Erin!

Once upon a time, when Oma was in college, there was a volcano named “Mt. St. Helens.  Can you say ‘mount saint helens?’” Good job.

Yep, this is dirt from outside. We’re going to make a volcano with it.  I know it’s dirty; listen to my story, ok?  We’ll wash your hands pretty soon.

Well that old volcano, Mt. St. Helens, began to rumble.  It rumbled and shook with earth quakes a lot of times, so scientists said, “Look out, everybody!  Mt. St. Helens is going to erupt!”  Oma thought that was very interesting, but she wasn’t worried.  She lived in a town named Ellensburg, and Ellensburg was a long, long way from Mt. St. Helens.

Yes, that’s right –some volcanoes have fire coming out of them when they erupt, but Mt. St. Helens is not that kind of volcano.  Shhh — I’ll tell you what happened, so listen. Everybody can make this pile of dirt into a mountain while I tell the story, okay?

Since this story happened on a Sunday, Oma woke up and got dressed to go to church.  Outside the clouds were thick and dark.  Oma thought, “Uh-oh, it looks like rain today.”  But, when she walked to her car, she did not feel any raindrops. In fact, the weather was warm and stuffy, even though the sky was getting darker and darker.

Let’s make a hole in the top of our dirt volcano.  Yep, just a little one.

Inside the church building, Oma heard people talking about the volcano. They said that Mt. St. Helens had erupted — with a very loud ka boom! The whole top of the mountain had blown off!  Pouring out of the crater was a gigantic cloud of ashes!  The ashes were blowing right towards the town where Oma lived!  Oma was glad to be with her church friends.

After just a little while, a nice deputy sheriff came inside the church, and said, “Excuse me, everybody.  Please go home now and stay in your houses.  There is a lot of ash falling on our town!” So, everybody did as the deputy said and left quickly for their homes.

When Oma hurried outside, she saw that gray ash was falling from the sky, ashes covered the road, and her little blue car was coated in warm, gray ashes.

Okay, let’s take turns putting some baking soda inside our dirt volcano’s crater.  Just a little spoonful each!  Do you think we can make our pretend Mt. St. Helens erupt?  I think so.  Next, we’re going to pour a bit of vinegar and dish soap inside the crater.  Just a little bit for each but let’s be quick!  Okay, that’s good. Look! What’s happening?

Oma drove her car very slowly on the ashy streets, because ash is smooth and slippery when it covers the roads.  When she arrived at her apartment, she parked her car and ran to her door.  Before going inside, Oma shook her hair and her jacket and stomped her feet to get the ashes off.  Then, she slammed her door to keep the ashes outside and turned on her TV.  She wanted to watch the volcano news.

Shall we make our volcano erupt again?  Okay.  Let’s take turns…one at a time…Moses!  What’s the matter, buddy?  Girls, don’t scoop his mud please.  Play with your own mud.

For the rest of that very long day, and for many days after the volcano erupted, Oma stayed in her apartment, all by herself.  When she had to go outside for groceries, she wore a face mask so she wouldn’t breathe the ashes.

Finally, the roads were safe enough for Oma to drive her little blue car across the Cascade mountains to her other home where she lived when she wasn’t in college.  She was happy to be out of Ellensburg, because the skies at home were blue and the air was clean to breathe.  Oma remembers the Mt. St. Helens story very well, even though it happened forty years ago.

Okay, so besides “V” for volcano, do you know what else starts with Letter V?  Yup, vegetables.  Let’s go plant some pumpkin seeds, shall we?  We’ll have to stay in the house, though, because it’s raining outside today. 

Yep, you can take your pumpkin seeds home.  Tell your mommies to put them on the patio and when they’re grown, you can plant them outside! 

Let’s go eat some vegetables for lunch, shall we?  And then we can make Opa’s Special Donuts!

Sliding back into preschool mode this week, we picked up with Letter “U” for under-the-radar, umbrella and “you” — as in “you are my favorite grandparent.”  Truly, Opa and I never vie for their affection, yet the very second our tots disembark from their car seats they designate a grandparent for the day.  On this day Mr. Mo chose me; the ladies picked Opa.  We’re cool with that. Children are capricious.

Perhaps Mr. Mo needed more tenderness than teasing, as he was sheepish from being shorn the night before. (Doesn’t he have a nicely rounded noggin?  Oma kissed it often.)

Those ladies though:  Opa – come play in my rooooom!  Opa – come walk through the woods!  Opa – catch me!  Opa – (leading him to the hammock) tell me a story!  Opa!  Opa!  Opa!

Opas — as they are quite like Daddys except older and squishier — generally don’t lay down the law or toss rowdy bandits in the hoosegow.  Nope.  Opas don’t make you check your sidearm at the gate, clean up after your steed, or pay your saloon tab upon request. Opas don’t demand you chuck your trash into the bin, wear rain jackets outside, or eat just one more carrot stick. Opas don’t supervise potty parties. Opas get to disappear while you eat your grub and reappear for dessert. Opas get to facilitate after-nap entertainment, and even provide a spacious, comfy lap for viewing Toy Story. Opas help with the acquisition of “theater snacks all around!” and then follow directions for wrapper disposal (“give this to Oma”).

Opas get thanked for having you visit and lauded from the car window as your mommy drives away (“Oma!  Tell Opa I love him!”)

Next week, Lord willing, we’ll explore “V” for “volcano, vegetables” and “very” – as in “who’s the ‘very’ special grandparent this week, huh?”

9:18 a.m.

JM:  Shall we meet at 5:00 at Il Lucano for pick-up, and then come home for dinner and Bible study?

11:07 a.m.

K:  Okay!  We’ll be there.

A:  We will, too.

V: I don’t think we can make that.  CM doesn’t get home till 5ish.  Enjoy!

11:10 a.m.

V: Well, we are going to try to make Il Lucano’s!  I’ll pick CM up at the bus stop.  You can all take bets if we remember to pick up his truck on the way back.  What do you guys like to order?

AN:  The calzone is delicious!  Big enough for two.  The manicotti is really good, and of course, CM’s favorite, the Penne Verona.  T’s favorites are lasagna, and spaghetti and meatballs.  You can check out the menu online!

V:  Might have to get the Tuesday special.  CM always gets the same thing.  I’m the one who can’t decide.

1:36 p.m.

CS:  Don’t have too much fun without me!

V:  Haha.  We can’t even hang out together.  It’s illegal!

JB:  We would like to pay for Il Lucano’s for everyone for a year!

K:  My husband took my phone.  Bad.

JM:  I figured!

CS:  I like JB’s idea.

V:  Man, I was so excited!

A:  We were excited, too!

6:03 p.m.

K:  JB sent ZOOM links for 6:30, friends!  Finish your pasta.

Our sweet, spunky Emiline turned three this week.  Respecting social distancing, Opa and I bought an essential balloon bouquet and partied in her backyard.

Thanks to the floral department at my fave grocery chain, which had the goods ready for my quick pickup. *Dash into store…grab waiting balloons…pay…dash out to the car*  It only took two phone calls and many minutes on hold, but crucial mission accomplished — because one cannot celebrate turning three without balloons.

Opa positioned himself in the backyard while the three-year-old woke up from her nap and came outside.  Balloons are always a hit, especially if you’re groggy and Daddy gives you a big birthday hug.

Another hit is the discovery of the neatest outdoor toy  — a bar for hanging upside down.

Oh, the joy!

Big three-year-old girls also love little goodies from cousins.  Yes, calculators look even cooler through a huge magnifier.

Sadly, Opa and I couldn’t stay for cupcakes.  We’ve been planning the BIGGEST family BIRTHDAY party for all the ones we’ve had to neglect in March and April. Get ready, Aunties Amy and Jenny, Uncle Matt, Mommy Erin, and Opa.  It’s gonna be grand.

Amid the chaos and uncertainty of the past couple of days, there was Letter T with our tots. Our tots do not have to distance themselves socially from their preschool, nor learn their letters online. Nope. Opa and Oma are grateful for that.

This day there was “The Tooth Book”, a classic you may have read to your tots when they still had their baby ones. It begins with a terrific, tot appropriate question: “Who has teeth?” The answers, of course, include red-headed uncles, lions, walruses, but not hens or snails. In our preschool, we can confidently say that all have teeth but only the little ladies wanted to show theirs.

There was Mr. Mo, though, who was not a bit shy about showing us his tongue.

There was craft time, too, where we painted a tooth with brand-new toothbrushes, sprinkled them with glitter (because why not?) and glued Styrofoam peanuts inside a mouth. Funny that: all the “Dental Week” resources Oma found online called for mini marshmallows instead of Styrofoam… doesn’t that just sound WRONG? She was going to pass that activity by, until eureka! what should Oma spy on her shelf but a bag of packing peanuts?

Along with “T” for teeth and tongue, there was “T” for trees. And, thankseversomuch to OpaOma’s neighbors, there was a Letter T field trip to the end of the driveway to watch some lumberjacks felling lots of them. Of course, in these parts trees are abundant, so losing a few or many to a new house is not such a big deal. There are many more where those came from.

There’s some! Right in the backyard! And Opa, who loves to lead his tots on a trail walk! And also a playset which has been lonesome all winter!

Finally, there was an auntie still with a scooter and a Mo, who sneaked out to the kitchen for a ride.

Next week, Lord willing, there shall be Letter U for “UP” and also a triple-birthday party for three of our very favorite adults.

And for Scout, who swatted the brand-new, lidless jar of glitter off my desk right before the tots arrived.  Without that playful act of defiance, however, I wouldn’t have discovered a brilliant Pinterest workaround.

You see, as preschool resumed this week (jet lag gone…kids cheerful…no quarantine in these parts…toilet paper stocked), we picked up with Letter S for Abraham’s wife “Sarah”, “star” and “space”.  Pinning a thing called “universe play doh” and copying a “stars” coloring page, I included Big Plans for a bit of astronomy with that sparkly, home made stuff.  However, as Big Plans usually go, I nixed the doh idea the night before (who buys black food coloring?  Tell me if you know).

After the kitty incident and just as I was about to vacuum glitter from the floor, I had a eureka! moment.  Why not blot it up with balls of Play Doh?  Right?

The result was stupendous. Universe play doh — minus the glycerin, baby oil, black food color!  Not only did that glitter twinkle, but it stuck to the doh and not to the hands.  We noted that stars twinkle in the night sky and sometimes we can see them if there are no clouds and our daddies take us outside when it’s dark. Plus, we made Letter S for “snakes” with sparkly play doh.

Later this day, after some swinging and a stroll to the cul de sac, we enjoyed hot chocolate with sprinkles.  You will note the absence of a shirt on Miss Em, who spilled her drink and willingly went without one while hers tumbled in the dryer.

In OmaOpa’s preschool, dress code applies to cat dolls and Barbies, but not to students.

All in all, it is good to be back to preschool after our family trip.  Miss Nomi, Miss Em, and Mr. Mo agree that airplanes, trains, castles, a Queen, a bride and a new uncle made for an adventure like no other, and yet home is nice, too.

Today, Tuesday, is our last day in Reading. Yesterday the wedding contingent split up — some off to friends in Leicester, others off to friends in Oxford, Matt off to a climbing gym, Opa and I off to Nero’s for cappuccinos and scones.

Later, we napped. Opa walked along the river. I took my last opportunity to shop at White Stuff.

Undoubtedly, my friends, White Stuff is my favorite clothing store. Sadly, White Stuff is located only in the U.K. (which is good for my clothing budget).

As I was swiping my credit card for the second time in a few days, nice White Stuff lady asked me what I was doing in Reading. “Did your daughter get married in that church right there!? Last Saturday?! The groom’s mom was in here, too!” Seems Margot and I have exquisite taste in clothing.

Alas, Erin texted a few hours ago about how she’d love to “run to Primark, browse White Stuff and get a take-away coffee from Workhouse.” Would I like to join? Do I have a smidge of self-control?

Changing the subject, some of us walked to Bill’s for brunch this morning. We like Bill’s.

Some had the full English, and one had the kid English.

Afterwards, we split up — this time David and Em to greet big lion again. She doesn’t appear frightened, but she is short.

Jim and I strolled to the museum to reacquaint ourselves with Kings Henry I and VIII; also Harald and William the Conqueror. Next to the ruins, which are always lovely but especially when the weather isn’t liquid-y:

(See crooked horizon? Oh, how I miss access to Lightroom.  I shall fix at home.)

Seems all our contingent has wandered back to base and has planned a Thai dinner for a fitting farewell to the land of so many good eateries within walking distance.

Yesterday — Sunday –the Flat Crew took charge of the House Crew’s small people whilst the mommies, daddies, and an uncle traipsed around London. Our preschoolers enjoyed both a change of venue and some “new” stuff to play with.

Particularly fun were the cards Oma copied and laminated the morning we departed.  (She scored with that one!)

And also some peculiar, bendable figures which made for terrific “hide-and-find” objects.  Of course, the preschoolers hid them in the same places over and over again — in shoes, under bedspreads, on the tub.  Flats are smaller than houses, to be sure, yet one figure remains at large.

Naturally, anything Auntie Jenny does is popular, especially if the thing involves her phone or her scooter.

We are not against screen time during these times, nor do we remove binkies as we would at home.  Both promote idyllic, peaceful moments, however brief.

Eventually, aunt Jessica and new-uncle Jasper dropped by with armloads of leftover snack food, drinks, and a dozen wedding cupcakes on their way to their mini-moon.   We are not going hungry in these parts. Our goodbyes may have been slightly chaotic, as OmaOpa were bundling those littles for the walk across the street to their napping place, but we shall meet again in August.

For the reminder of the day, the photography portion of my photojournalism skills lapsed, so picture this:

1. Little people who didn’t nap as well as their caretakers thought they should, could, or would have at home.
2. Oma sending Opa out to McDonalds for kid meals so they wouldn’t have to brave the rain and wind to take those little ones to dinner.
3. McDonalds kid meal toys, which were “mugs” with holes in the bottom (?) to prevent drinking from, but made terrific bath toys.
4. Three naked tots in a tub of icy water.
5. Icy because the hot water heater had mysteriously decided to shut down, but Opa managed to get it going again.
6. Tepid water at last, but past the window of happy-bath opportunity.
7. Bribing tots into their jammies when they’d rather run naked, cold, and screaming gleefully throughout the house.
8. Reading Bible stories to the ladies while Mr. Mo teased Opa.
9. Miss Em informing me that I did NOT read Goliath’s part correctly. “Stop! You didn’t read it right!”  “How should I read it?”  “Like this *scowls*.” After a few more failed attempts on my part, Opa chimed in with his best gruff voice.  He received her approval.  Harumph.
10. Two minutes prior to my “time for bed!” announcement, the mommies and daddies walked in from their London venture, and the Flat Crew returned to their flat.