So, we heard the ice cream man driving through our neighborhood the other day. I know it is kind of creepy and way over priced, but Matt and I both felt that getting a treat from the Ice Cream Man is one of those quintessential childhood
experiences that everyone should have tucked away in their memory bank. So, when they were playing outside and Matt heard the music, Matt told them they could get a treat if he came by our house. Daphne kept saying that she didn't want to see the ice cream man and seemed very concerned about the whole ordeal. Since this is not her nature, Matt asked her why she didn't want to see him. Daphne said, "I don't want to see the Ice Cream Man, that sounds scary." It was at this point that Matt realized she thought that a man made of Ice Cream was driving around our neighborhood. Matt explained to her that he just sells ice cream and promised Daphne that he would look just like a regular person. She seemed encouraged by this. After a long while, they came inside thinking that he had left our neighborhood. Then they heard the music again and their faces lit up like Christmas morning! They ran outside and Matt whistled as he drove by. The truck went to turn the corner and Matt looked at the worried faces of our sweet kids. BUT, he made a u-turn and came back to save the day! The kids were so excited to choose their own treat and Isaac picked an Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ice cream. Now, we have strictly forbidden the purchase of any
Bratz paraphernalia, and any time we see
Bratz products in the store Daphne says, We don't buy those because they are
skankin'." (Yes, I do realize that I should not say
skanky in front of my child and we have since clarified more appropriate terminology.) But alas, the only girl type ice cream was a
Bratz treat, so we allowed her to get that. Whatever happened to gender neutral ice cream? Incidentally, the
Bratz ice cream girl had colors that were running together and she looked as though she was crying because she received way too much collagen at her last appointment with the
asthetician. But we did have one very messy and memorable evening!
Last year I decided to begin the tradition of making a "First Day of School Cake", which is supposed to resember a chalk board. Cake decorating is really not my forte, but the words are fairly legible. At the bottom, I have the children's initials and what grade they are entering. The idea is to get a picture of them holding the cake each year, and to share a piece when they come home. I told both of them that the rules say that they have to tell me about their day while we eat. This is especially helpful with my tight-lipped son, who does not voluntarily share many tidbits of his day. Daphne, on the other hand, usually can't stop talking about her day!
I have really tried to promote the new school schedule by telling Daphne that it is just us big girls who go to school and reminding her that the baby is too small for school. She has started referring to us as "the big girls" and I am truly enjoying our time together. I get to really listen to all of her fabulously imaginative stories and remember how positively delightful she is!
Can you believe I have a first grader? My sweet son is 6 1/2 years old and jumped into full school days this week. His teacher seems great and he says he likes it. He looks like a worn out little puppy dog when he gets home, but I think he is doing well. Matt and I both wish we could observe a day of school for him- we hope he is making friends and following the rules and having fun.
I took Isaac for his well child exam, and he was once again off the charts for height and weight. He is 4'3'' and weighs 66 lbs. I have gotten so used to Isaac being so big for his age that I sometimes forget how tall Daphne is: She was in the 95th percentile for height and 74th percentile for weight.
