Second Grade Friends

A story in too many parts...

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My second grade year was a big one. It's where I met a great friend. Several months after school started, Mrs. B. announced that the class had a new student. I was beyond thrilled because the empty desk was next to me. I was going to get to sit by this new girl, L, and I just new she was going to be great.

L came to school in an Incredible Hulk t-shirt and torn green jeans. She had super short hair. Mrs. B. introduced her, and I swear, 25 jaws dropped because that child that Mrs. B. was warmly introducing? It was not a girl. No, that was a boy. The whole class agreed. My heart sank. I was going to have to sit next to a new boy, and that would not be nearly as fun as having a new girl in class. But wait, Mrs. B. had used a name that very clearly belonged to a girl, and then I was just confused.

Me? I wore dresses, preferably ones with lots of fabric that could twirl out from my waist as I spun around. I was, in all aspects, a stereotypical girl. L was not. She was in second grade breaking gender lines. I wasn't sure we could be friends.

But as it turns out, we became best friends. We were in class together from 2nd through 6th grades, and then overlapped many of our classes in middle and high school. I consider myself responsible for her being a role-playing-game enthusiast, though I have absolutely no interest in them. And she is responsible for my high school debate career that resulted in a full-ride scholarship to both undergrad and grad school, though she has less than no interest in debate. This is just one of many examples of how L always gives more than she gets.

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I'm still friends with L today. Who knew a second grade friendship could amount to so much? We have a third close friend, J. I can still tell you both of their addresses and phone numbers when they were growing up, and I could ride my bike directly to their former homes.

We all met at J's home a few years. I can't even believe J's husband let us stay. Seriously. There was a lot of estrogen in that house, and I'm not sure he got more than a sentence or two in the whole weekend. L, J, and me? We had loads of fun. L even gave us a gang symbol and named is the AW3 (Avondale West 3). She's always the life of the party.

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I've been spending a lot of time lately thinking about how my writing is essentially peak-to-peak writing, always focusing on the high points. This is extremely intentional. First, nobody gets mad at you for writing a post they look good in. Second, the peaks are what I want to remember. And when my kids are in therapy some day, I want them to have solid evidence that we had loads of good times.

But in reality, life is about getting through the valleys. It's about trudging through all the day-to-day stuff. It revolves around getting through each day, and remembering to say thanks at the end.

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If you want to be extremely depressed, do a google search for ALS. Then think about how your friend's husband was just diagnosed with this awful disease. The same husband that when he was first described to you by that friend, you knew instantly they would be married. And you also knew they would live happily ever after because this guy was perfect for your friend. Perfect.

This guy stood by your friend when her mother died. This guy, who is brilliant, and funny, and an awesome dad - is you're friend's counter balance. Where he loves discussing philosophy, she'd rather read a SciFi novel. When he was moved to tears at Ground Zero and called her, she was cursing the old plumbing in their house as she replaced a toilet while he was away.

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L is a psychologist and her husband is a psychiatrist. She's the friend to call or email when there's something really strange going on. She's genius at sorting through stuff and getting to the heart of the matter. I cannot recall one time she's given me bad advice. At least not since we've both been adults.

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My friend's husband is living with ALS. I have no doubt that L will be the one squeezing out every good moment from now until he stops living with ALS. She'll be laughing her two relatively young children through the whole damn thing. She'll be figuring out the trick to living in this moment, right now.

I'm hoping she'll be living the life I'm writing about - peak-to-peak. Even though I know she'll be spending a lot of time hanging out in the valleys. She is, after all, human.

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If you have a higher power you call on, please ask that higher power to give my friend L and her husband a break. Even just taking the edge off the valleys could be of profound importance.

Much love,

Elaine

{this moment}

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From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

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Teeth

I didn’t lose my first tooth until I was 8 years old. My family was vacationing in California. We were eating pizza on a pier when I excitedly told my parents my tooth was coming out. My dad took me to the other side of the pier because my mom is not so fond of blood streaming out of someone’s mouth during dinner. I returned, victorious. I had finally lost my first tooth.

I would eventually lose 5 teeth, and the last one fell out in middle school. I remember the thing finally falling out and raising my hand and the teacher looking at me in complete disbelief and then sending me to the nurse’s office. By this point in my life, it didn’t really surprise me because by then, it was clear I had odd teeth. My parents would eventually fork out thousands of dollars for dental work and my current dentist is absolutely amazed at my remaining baby teeth.

Connor has yet to lose his first tooth, though he has had an x-ray which revealed the presence of a second set of teeth. That second set of teeth is good news for my pocketbook. And I actually take it as good news that Connor still has his full set of baby teeth, because I’m hoping that means his teeth are more like my concrete teeth – seemingly impervious to day-to-day wear – instead of like Ed’s teeth, which might be made of paper towels.

This lack of teeth loss is not good news for Connor. Regularly, he asks me about ways to hasten the loss of his first tooth, and of course, I have no satisfactory answer for him. When these questions arise, I pray that his friend F., who has also not lost his first tooth, will continue to hang onto those babies, because I remember well feeling so sad about being the only person I knew who hadn’t yet lost a tooth.

So this year, just like last year, Connor will be displaying a full set of teeth for his school photo on Thursday.

Sorry, little dude. It's no fun being little and feeling behind all your peers - even when it's something as trivial as teeth loss.

Connor has munched on a good number of apples, and still...those blasted teeth hang on!
 

Elaine

Worlds of Fun - He Finally Made it to the Fury!

After spending days 2 - 4 of our recent vacation at family camp, we had to settle the score with Worlds of Fun. This Kansas City amusement park denied Connor entry onto the Fury of the Nile last year, and Connor was ready to show them he rocked that height limit now. And show him, he did. (Though I can't say that anyone affiliated with the park actually noticed.) Helen also rode the log ride several times, which avenged her tears from last year.

Connor can now ride most of the rides at Worlds of Fun, but I'm happy to accompany Helen in the small people area. In fact, by the looks of it, I might have been having more fun than Helen on the car ride!

 

 

I'm not quite sure why I agreed to ride an enormous roller coaster with Connor, but I did. And I even let go of the safety bar long enough to snap this photo with my mom's camera. I believe we are in a stationary position at this point. I think Ed and I will forever be sad we didn't purchase the ride photo at the end because Connor had the best - I'm completely freaked out what did I get myself into? - look on his face. He's quickly become an old hat at these rides, so we're unlikely to see that crazed look on his face again anytime soon.

And I believe that's us in the log. Only surprising thing is seeing Helen's jacket. Her typical strategy is to tuck herself entirely under the front of the boat so she doesn't get wet at all. I remember doing this when I was the little one on the ride many years ago. Now, I've ceded that beloved first position to her.

We're still solidly in the getting along phase of vacation, but after family camp and now a day at an amusement park, we're starting to get a little bit tired. Will the kids sleep on the flight to California? Stay tuned...

Elaine

Muscle Beach / Venice - Vacation Day 16

One of the stranger LA attractions we visited was the original site of Muscle Beach. Today's Muscle Beach is up the boardwalk about a mile in Venice Beach, but the remnants of the original remain. Muscle Beach (both the former and current) is a place where bodybuilders gather to build their muscles. Apparently, Arnold Schwarzenegger used to go here. And I'm sure you're already guessing that this was totally a place I could fit right in - being as I'm so loaded with muscles and all.

I don't know why this place kept making me laugh. Perhaps I was just delirious from all the travel at this point. Some of the equipment actually looked pretty fun - but there was no way I was going to wait in line and try it out- though I would still like to know if I could complete the rings/monkey bar obstacle. I settled on conjuring up my rope climbing skills from elementary school, and actually made it to the top. This impressed Connor greatly. Sadly, there is no photographic evidence of my feat. In fact, Connor and my father-in-law might have been the only people who saw it. But trust me, I was awesome.

Connor's attempt to climb a rope - it's harder than it looks, he reports.

I'm not actually sure what this piece of equipment was supposed to be used for, but it made an awfully nice balance beam.

Next time, she's going to actually try and climb!

By far, the best moment of the day was when we walked up the boardwalk to Venice Beach. It was supposed to be a 20 minute walk, but that time was clearly thought up by someone who was walking without two young children. We did eventually arrive at our destination, but we took a cab back to our car after we had lunch.

Street performers crowd the boardwalk at Venice Beach. At one point, I asked Helen if she had any tricks of her own. She came to an immediate stop, dropped to the ground, and did a front roll. Sadly, I didn't capture it on film, and it hurt her head, so by the time I had my camera ready, this was the best stunt she had for me - which was better than anyone else in the family. It drew applause from onlookers, although you can see in the background that Ed, Connor, and my father-in-law had no idea what was going on. Helen was laughing pretty hard about the whole thing, probably dreaming about what her life would be like when she became a street performer, and someone on the side of the road declared that she was "full of happiness". At this moment? It would appear so. At bedtime? Not so much.

After our workout and long walk, Helen collapsed in the sand.

 

Connor also collapsed, as he started showing signs of wearing down. We were all wearing down, in fact, and much of our conversation starting going like this:

 

C: Helen, quit it!

H: I'm not doing anything!

C: Yes you are!

Me: Both of you need to keep your hands to yourself and not look at each other.

H: I didn't do ANYTHING!

C: Yes you did, Helen, and you know you did.

 

And I started dreaming about coming home a few days early. The largest downside to a home exchange - which is what we did on this vacation - is that if you come home early, you're stuck in a hotel because somebody else is living in your home!

 

 

 

This particular night, a friend of mine from grad school met us at the house we were staying at and it was completely fantastic. Her two kids immediately started playing with Connor and Helen, which allowed Connor and Helen to put their energy into something besides bickering with each other. My friend and I attempted to procure pizza for everyone, but instead drove around in circles for a while with the top down on her new convertible. We should've gone to Vegas...

 

Elaine



{this moment}

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From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

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The Pledge

Connor left school early on Tuesday to go to a doctor's appointment. His teacher packed up his homework for him, which included an item or two that he would miss during the regular day. I have no idea if the following assignment was going to be completed in class, or if it was meant to be brought home and discussed. I'm guessing our discussion at home diverged from what would have taken place in the classroom.

The assignment was to draw a picture of yourself saying the pledge of allegiance, and then to complete the following sentence. "I say the Pledge of Allegiance because...". I'm sure I don't even need to fill in what Connor wrote, because most of you can probably guess - because it's the exact same thing you're thinking RIGHT NOW. But I'll tell you the story anyway.

As I walked Connor home from soccer practice afternoon, I told Connor about his assignment. I asked him if he knew what the Pledge of Allegiance was. He dutifully recited it for me. Then I asked him if he knew what it meant.

"No." 

OK - so let's discuss.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag" 

So you're promising something - making a pledge. You're promising allegiance, so you're promising to be loyal. You're pledging that you'll support something - in this case, a flag. What do you think the flag stands for?

"Our country"

Yes...so you're promising to be loyal to our country - which is pretty much what the next set of words affirms.

"I pledge allegiance, to the flag, of the United State of America. And to the republic for which it stands"

Right - so that's just saying the group of states, the country that you're promising to be loyal to is the United States. And then there's that part about liberty. Do you know what liberty is?

"freedom"

Yes. Do you know what one of the great freedoms we have in the United States? We can criticize our country. We can stand up and tell people we think the government isn't doing the best job it can. Some people, including me, think that this means we really care about our government. Can you pledge your allegiance to the country and disagree?

"Yes."

Right...so why do you say the pledge? 

"Because I support the United States"

Yes - even though that doesn't mean you have to like everything the United States does. So tonight when you're with Dad, you can write that you say the pledge because you support our country.

Then we came home and ate dinner together. I told Ed about the assignment. He predictably rolled his eyes. I told him Connor and I had already talked, and Connor had an answer about supporting the country.

When I got home I looked over the assignment.

"I say the Pledge of Allegiance BECAUSE MY TEACHER MAKES ME".

Yes, yes, that's probably true. Stay tuned for the teacher's response. 

Elaine

Milk Wars Ended

Helen was breastfed until she was 30 months old and used a bottle for milk until she turned 3 (sometimes breastmilk, sometimes cow's milk). She would've kept using the bottle, but Ed and I decided that given she was perfectly capable of using a cup, it was time to ditch the bottle.

Since that day, Helen has complained about milk at dinner.

Let me put that in a little perspective. For the last two years, every evening that Helen has been given a glass of milk (which is almost all of them), Helen has complained about having to drink it. At home, she will only drink it from a particular cup, using a straw, and it must be warmed up. When she is away, the particular cup requirement is dropped. For over 700 days, I have catered to her milk peculiarities and listened to her complain. I have run the gamut of being really ramped up and ready to solve this issue to being rather lackadaisical about the whole thing.

I freely admit I am stubborn. But I may have met my match in Helen because two nights ago, after Ed and I put Helen and Connor to bed, I told Ed I was through giving Helen milk. Instead, I'll give her yogurt and cheese at dinner. The casualty, of course, could be Connor. He's a champion milk drinker - rarely complaining about the requisite glass, and recently pouring himself a second glass. I'd prefer he keep doing this.

So...in the milk wars, I believe everyone has been a loser for the last two years, but now? Point for Helen.

And two points for my sanity.

Elaine

Helen's First Day

It seems as if all the bandwidth on this blog dedicated to school goes straight to Connor. I do care about Helen's school experience, but her path is so clear to me that I don't spend a lot of time over-thinking it, stressing about it, or worrying at all. Partly, this stems from Connor and Helen being so different. Where Connor would be perfectly happy to go unnoticed for a while and if things go wrong - he'll basically just accept them, unless Helen has busied herself painting her nails or applying make-up, she'd prefer to be noticed - and she doesn't just accept things. I never worry that she won't get what she needs, because she demands it. Mostly, being at a tiny, private school with teachers that I already know on a path I've walked before feels easy.

But I have to remind myself that Helen's experiences are new to her, and so it came as quite a shock to me that rather than bounding onto the playground as she had done at drop-off of Connor two years ago, when she begged not to be noticed so she could join the class, Helen started her time in the Oak Tree Kindergarten in the background. First clinging to my leg for much of the open house, and then settling in behind or beside Ed and I at drop-off the next two days, she impatiently reported to me at the end of the second full day that she did not want to go to school.

To hear her tell it, school stresses her out. "Mom, C kept asking me to play saying 'don't you want to play with your old friend, Helen?' Only I didn't want to play with her because H and J and I were building a rocketship and we needed to finish it and then I went to play with C but she was mad at me." This was followed with "H and I are getting married. We're going to have strawberry ice cream at our marrying party. Do you think my birthday party could be a marrying party?" And apparently it was H, not Helen, who brought the issue up.

Today she seemed more settled, and I'm hopeful she'll hit her stride in the coming week. Ironically, when Connor was in the class, Ed and I often remarked how the girls seemed somewhat blase about getting to school, hanging out with the parents before morning verse, while the boys were like a pack of hounds running around the playground from the start. Despite the slow start, I'll be shocked if Helen is still hanging out with the parents in a couple of weeks. She's more of a pack leader.

But...she's been known to surprise me before.

Without further ado...the first day of school shot, taken by Ed.

Elaine

Second Grade - First Week Recap

The trouble with not blogging for an extended period of time is that I'm left with loads of photos and memories I'd like to capture, but life still moves forward. This blog has lost all concept of time. In that way, it's much like parenting seems some days.

Connor started school last Tuesday. He was given a gift of a teacher, and I very much appreciate that. Random luck or intervention from something in the universe - I'll take it. Although Connor does perfectly well in school, he is not one of those "can't wait for summer to end" kind of kids. He likes his summers, and he'd be fine extending them indefinitely. Having a great teacher at least takes the edge off of the end of summer.

The end of last year was hard. It took a lot to not just call it quits and end early, but a sense of obligation kept me bringing Connor to school daily. And true, the last week was fun, but I think everyone in this house was ready for the year to end. I am still, in fact, considering a vacation the last few weeks of school this year. I'm probably kidding myself that I would actually do this, but it keeps me going, so pretend it could happen right along with me, please.

This year started with Connor running into my home office after the first day of school letting me know we had to invite N to his (delayed birthday) party. Uh, sure, Connor. I love sending invitations out three days before events. Makes me feel like a rock star. Fortune of all fortunes, N has a September birthday, so his mom occasionally sends these emails out as well, so she completely understood and was happy to drop N off at my home at the appointed time. Phew. Connor sits next to N, and it's nice that the two of them like each other. Oh, how much difference a year makes.

Being that Connor is still at a public school, the urge to reward is irresistible, but his teacher chooses the one reward I can probably get behind - chocolate. Good behavior earns a chocolate kiss. By the end of the week, it took exceptionally good behavior. Connor has earned a daily chocolate, and he loves it.

His best day the first week of school was during math. His teacher showed the class her jar of kisses, and they shook it, moved it around, and discussed estimating. Then they made their guesses, and whomever had the closest guess would get 10 kisses. According to Connor, one student guessed 30, nearly every other student guessed between 60 and 120, he guessed 250, and another student guessed 600. The class laughed at his guess - until the correct answer of 258 was revealed. It was a real high point for Connor.

The teacher appears extremely organized and my challenge for myself is to match her organization by returning everything she sends home that needs input from my by the next morning. So far, so good. Of course, I must remember that with the loads of paperwork I'll be seeing, this is a marathon, not a sprint. I must not get too excited, yet.

My hopes for Connor this year are similar to last year. I hope his teacher recognizes that children change. And I hope she also knows that each child she'll teach this year, including mine, deserves her best. They are unique, they have something magical about them, and she might be the person that unlocks that magic. My own second grade teacher favored gnomes, could put a bunch of second graders in line if she needed, and created a real atmosphere of warmth and getting along. My contribution to her class was creating a "class book", which she kept up until she retired a few years ago. I didn't remember doing it until she showed me the project, but my friend Jennifer and I had drawn a picture of each student in the class and written a sentence about them and then given it to her for our "class library". Fine literature, that book was, I'm sure. I only wish I had that book now, because I remember when I went to visit her many years after I had left her class and she showed it to me, I thought it was extremely funny. I can't even remember what I wrote about myself. I do remember it included tidbits about people being "good in art" or "nice" and most of the sentences were three words, along the lines of "Jennifer is nice".

One thing I'm excited about for Connor is that students will be given difficult vocabulary words. Parents are asked to use these words in conversation throughout the week. This, I suspect, will be good, and could have the byproduct of improving my Scrabble skills. If you haven't already read it, search for the word "exaggerate" in this linked post. You will know why I adore vocabulary words.

Connor reported that his favorite class one day was Spanish, and his least favorite was art. Oh boy, not there again. I'm keeping my eye on this one early, and will try and meet with the art teacher if the feeling continues. Surely, we can figure out a way to work together.

All in all, I'm hoping for a good year, with a few good friends, and a sense of accomplishment at the end. I'm also hoping for a year of no surprise phone calls. I learned last year that I'm not good at handling them.

Here's the first day photo. Connor started the year off biking, and I'm hoping it continues.

Good luck, everyone. This time of year is filled with so much hope.

Elaine

San Diego - Part 1

After leaving Kansas, we flew to San Diego. Helen insisted on sitting next to me on the airplane which turned out OK since she decided to sleep most of the flight. Thank you for that gift, Helen. It allowed me to finish knitting enough of Connor's sweater to realize I will be lucky if the thing fits you. Vacation knitting project basically aborted. Even typing this three weeks later I'm in denial.

The first night, we went to La Jolla to see the sea lions hanging out. About 10 years ago, Ed and I went kayaking here, but our recollection was of a friend's kayak tipping trying to get over the surf, and we weren't about to attempt it with the little people in tow. So we picnicked on the cliff and enjoyed the view from a different angle than we had before.

Just for the record, this is Helen and Connor at the start of the California leg of our trip, thrilled to be traveling with each other. Spoiler alert: their feelings will change over the course of the next 2.5 weeks of travel.

We were off to a vacation with a lot of promise. The California coast is just amazing. Part of this vacation was about learning to use my relatively new camera. What a fun place to do it.

Elaine

Mind Games: From Left To Write Book Club - January First by Michael Schofield

In all likelihood, despite Connor's current dream of becoming a professional baseball player, he will have a job similar to mine in the future. This job will have nothing to do with his body, and everything to do with his mind. That he seems to grasp math with ease is as much an insurance policy against the future that I can think of a child like him needing. And I am grateful.

Ed and I remark often that Connor and Helen have the whole world in front of them. He and I are lucky to have stable jobs, we have stable housing, they've never missed a meal because food wasn't available. My kids have everything going for them. Most of all, they have a community of people who understand them and who care if they are OK.

The book January First, details several years of living with a child who is severely schizophrenic, only to run into an enormous problem of realizing that no matter how much a parent cares, if there's not a community behind that caring to help figure out answers, it might not be enough. In Jani's case, the child in the book, not even the professionals in institutions can figure it out. It takes a long time to find Jani the community she needs to get her the help she needs to start treating her schizophrenia. It's mind-boggling sad to think about all the hours of her life that could've been made better if a diagnosis and better drugs had come sooner.

But even without the community, Jani had (and still has) something extremely important. She has parents who didn't give up - even though their daughter has no insurance policy against the future. In fact, she is almost guaranteed to face continued struggle.

And I think that someday when my own children are giving me a lot of trouble, I need to remember that giving up just isn't going to make things better, so I might as well give this parenting gig everything I have.

As a member of the From Left to Write book club, I received a free copy of this book. I loved it. I'm sending it to a childhood friend of mine who treats chronically mentally ill adults, including adults with schizophrenia.

Rock Springs Family Camp - Vacation Days 2 - 4

For many consecutive years, my parents headed off to K-State Family Camp with my sister and me. We rent to Rock Springs. Both of us could swear we went for a week at a time, but no, my parents insist, we went from Friday evening through Sunday morning - always over 4th of July. That's important because my sister and I have a lot of great memories from this camp. It makes me feel good about taking Connor and Helen to Chincoteague each year. If they lay down memories like my sister and I did, they should have some great ones to draw on later in life.

When my mom discovered that Rock Springs was open for family camp the weekend before my family was heading to California, we quickly checked plane flights and decided it would be the perfect start to our long vacation. And so it was that we flew to Kansas on a Thursday night, drove West a couple of hours on Friday and set in to relive my youth. My sister and her family joined my crew and my parents.

To give you an idea of what Rock Springs is like - it is old school family camp in the Midwest, in every sense of the definition. Archery, horseback riding, rifle range, cafeteria food, swimming, and fishing with grandparents. And Ed reports those rifles are "real guns, way more powerful than what they have at Boy Scout camp, legitimate rifles".

Connor and Helen had a blast. So did I. I think my extended family did as well. And that's a tall order - grandparents, 40'ish folks, teens, and my two youngsters. Give Connor a well-stocked pond and a grandfather who doesn't mind unhooking and throwing back fish, and you get a happy kid.

Connor can't remember if the fish was this big...

 

or if it was this big. Does it matter?

 

The cousins fed fish - and if you care to know, they bite if you touch them. Just ask Helen. Or her dad who warned her this would happen.

 

 

The adults went on a trail ride, but the under 8 crowd rode around the stable area.

 

Look Mom, nobody is holding the reins - not even me!

 

 

Look Mom, I'm bossing Dad AND the horse around!

 

A word of advice, do not mess with my children. Or my brother-in-law. He can actually hit the target. Hands down, he was the family's finest representative when it came to this activity. He even asked questions about whether the gun was "trued" or shot straight, or something technical like that. No, is the answer, yet he still managed to tear up the target with ease.

 

Yes, I can shoot a gun.

 

He can't aim, but he loves to shoot! My brother-in-law, on the other hand, actually knows what he is doing.

My time to shine was the archery range. Bulls-eye, multiple times. Connor even suggested that perhaps we ought to move to a wooded area and become meat eaters. Let's just say, when the revolution comes, we will be ready.

 

Photo lifted from my brother-in-law's blog - http://www.featherstonsinkansas.com/

And yes, I spent the weekend at Rocks Springs rocking pigtails.

I'm pretty sure they are all admiring my mad archery skillz.

Ed is not to be messed with either.

 

Grandma gets in on the action,

as does Grandpa.

After the archery range, we headed across camp for some canoeing. We sent the cousins off on a tour of the circular pond. Apparently Connor gets credit for most motivated paddler.

 

Mush, mush, mush!

Ed's attempt to win son-in-law-of-the-year and my sister's attempt to win daughter-of-the-year.

We had loads of fun, spent a lot of time laughing, and I really do hope we repeat this trip someday. My sister and I both figure this is a true parenting win for my parents - that we remember something so fondly from our youth that we want to do it again with our own children.

When Connor went to school on Friday to meet his teacher, we stopped by the office. He immediately started regaling the principal with tales of Rock Springs, complete with how he "SHOT A REAL GUN! AND MY MOM GOT A BULLSEYE - EVERY TIME". The principal was laughing along with him. Perhaps she'll consider adding archery and rifle range to the P.E. curriculum.

Elaine