Merry Month of May, Sunny Skies of Blue

Charlie and "Mickey," whose brief, second life as a head made of recycled trash ended surreptitiously at my hands. (Trash to trash, dust to dust, or something like that?)

Let's see here...

I'm having a hard time piecing together what happened in May, because, as Charlie would say, "That was a lot of sleeps ago!"   Using the quantity of pictures I took at the event, it would appear that Charlie's preschool program was the main event. At the end of the year the kids perform all of the songs they have been learning the whole year through, most of them songs that teach a concept or principle of some kind. For example "The Color Song" teaches colors; "Hurry! Hurry!" teaches fire safety; "Please and Thank You" teaches good manners, of course, and "I am a pizza" teaches how to make a pizza, (by far the most useful concept for a preschooler to learn.)

I know my son well enough to know that getting up on stage in front of multitudes of strangers was not going to happen without a LOT of pyschological preparation/manipulation/bribery, so I did my best to prep Charlie for what would happen and what would be required of him in the program. Even so, the minute we walked into the auditorium and he saw the curtain and all the people, he began to dissolve into an anxious, frantic mess. I managed to get him onto the stage, and one of his fabulous teachers quickly stepped in and somehow distracted him long enough that he forgot he was scared and nervous. After that, everything went swimmingly and he even put on a turtle costume and stood in the center of the stage all by himself for "Tiny Tim," a heart-warming tale of the pet turtle who ate all the soap and woke up with bubbles in his throat.  The large head of the person in front of me frustrated my efforts to clearly capture Charlie's first performance in what I'm sure will be his long and illustrious career in showbiz.  As a small consolation, here are some other highlights of the preschool program: 

Classic Charlie "what do you want me to DO" expression

This is the duck with a feather on his back, obviously.

Towards the end of May, as the school year starts to draw to a close, Will's band students start to get sentimental about all the good times they shared over the past year(s), as sometimes-overemotional middle school students are wont to do, and he starts to receive cards, letters, gifts, notes on the chalkboard, signed T-shirts, and other tokens of gratitude.  Band is a significant part of the school experience for a lot of these kids, and Will is a great teacher, so it's no surprise to anyone that he is so loved and appreciated by his students. I always really enjoy getting a taste of that part of his life when he brings these tokens home, and it helps me to remember how much I appreciate that he's chosen such an altruistic career. This is a particularly touching card that he received this year; it reminded me to feel hopeful about the future and the kids who are growing up in these very challenging times. See? They know how to be grateful and write nice notes to their teachers, even if their nouns and verbs don't always agree.

After Charlie finished preschool, he started his own private "Swimming Lesson Boot Camp," the sole purpose of which was to have him become more independent in the water. Last summer he would NOT for all the tea in China venture beyond the steps of the pool, and even then not as far down any steps where the water reached past his waist. So my friend Leah worked with him by himself every day for six days; or, should I say, worked MAGIC with him, because by the end of that time, he was swimming around like a little duck (with his floaties, of course.) But wow, what a transformation.  Spending time at the pool suddenly became relaxing again! for about 6 seconds, until I remembered that I actually have 2 kids, and the one who doesn't swim on her own is very vocal about demanding that she be toted around the pool hither and thither and yon.

"If I knew the words, I would tell you that my pool needs are as follows: I require getting in and out of the pool, with your help, no less than 18 times every hour. I also require frequent snacks and drinks, as well as your assistance preventing any pigeons from getting within 50 feet of us, as this terrifies me."

If not for the pictures, I probably would have totally forgotten about our trip to the Las Vegas location of Serendipity3, a reasonable facsimile of this place, which is in New York. You may recognize it from the movie "Serendipity," or you may have heard of its most famous treat "Frrrrozen Hot Chocolate."  If you must know, the frozen hot chocolate is remarkably delicious, but let us not forget about deep fried oreos and ice cream. Indeed, how COULD I forget about deep fried oreos, swimming in melty vanilla ice cream and fudgy goodness. Did I mention that I've been trying to cut sugar out of my diet lately?

One more item of note about Serendipity3: I think the "3" in the name has something to do with the way the menu is formulated. That is to say, everything on the menu is three times as expensive and three times as LARGE as normal restaurant food. Don't say I didn't warn you.

These two chuckleheads were over the moon about eating ice cream for dinner, because let me tell YOU, no one can afford to eat dinner AND get ice cream at Serendipity, financially or calorically.

I believe I already discussed the experience of Antonia getting her cast off, but then I found this picture taken in May before the cast came off.  The filth-colored cast and its smattering of four-weeks' worth of grime so perfectly sets off the honey tones of Antonia's skin that I had to include it. What I really wish is that I had a picture of Antonia swinging her club-like appendage around like a weapon. If you've seen "Hellboy" you know what I'm talking about.  Why have I seen "Hellboy?" It was playing at the Cardio Cinema at my gym, which you've probably heard me yammer about on several occasions, so you must understand that I had no choice but to watch it, and darned if I didn't like it a little bit.

The end.