Class of 1990

See the person on the left of the page with the red circle around their head, and a fist covering their face? Well, that's me, twenty years ago. And this picture is Fairport High School's class of 1990.

Tonight is our 20th reunion. And I'm not going.

It's not that I didn't have fun at prom:

It's not that I didn't enjoy graduation:

It's more that I just don't really care.

While I had plenty of friends in my class, my closest friends all seemed to be a year ahead or behind me - if they attended FHS at all .

.

I'd love to be a fly on the wall and just watch everyone, but I don't really want to expend the energy to actually speak to these people. Plus? It's in NY, and there is NO way I'm putting out the cash for a trip to Rochester. 'Course, even if I was in town, I doubt I would go. I just wasn't all that into high school.

I'm hoping that people will post pictures on Facebook so I can see how the night went. Wait! I think I deleted most of my FHS friends from Facebook awhile ago.

See what I mean?

The Best Thing to Happen to TV Since the Remote Control

We did it. I finally talked Diamond into getting DVR.

I realize we are behind the curve on this one, but I'm already hooked. I can watch my shows anytime? Without commercials? (It's a little sickening to realize that I was watching as much at 4:30 of commercials for every 10 minutes of a programing. ) This is amazing!

It's a little like getting our first remote controlled TV. We had one of those big console TVs (part furniture, part cutting-edge technology) that had to be changed manually. I remember fighting with my sibling about who had to get up to adjust the volume or change the channel (ya know, from ABC to NBC.) Then we got a new TV with a remote, and all of a sudden we could just SIT and change the channel?!? Mindblowing!

Yeah, I don't see us ever going back.

Lost and Found

If this kid makes it to adulthood, it may just be a miracle.

Earlier this year, he decided he wanted to go play basketball at our neighbors house. At 8:00am. On a Saturday morning. Diamond was out playing ball and I was still asleep as the Caboose headed out the front door. When our neighbors answered the bell, the Caboose said "I'm here to shoot three-pointers." They welcomed him in, served him waffles, and let him play. I had no idea he was even gone. That night we installed an alarm on the front door - so I could hear if he tried to leave.

The problem is that he thinks he is 10 years old, if not 12. If he sees his brothers doing anything, he feels fully capable of doing the same thing.

Take for instance two weeks ago. We meet several other families in our neighborhood for "Family Home Evening" at the park located five minutes from our house. After being at the park for a bit, the big boys wanted to run home to grab a baseball. They asked, I said "sure" and off they went. No problem. But then the Caboose decided he wanted to grab his mitt from the house. Did he ask? Of course not. Did he tell anyone where he was headed? Why would he? There were a ton of kids playing on the playground and I simply didn't notice him slip away.

After a group search and rescue mission, we finally found him. He could NOT understand what he did wrong. His big brothers had walked home to get something, so why couldn't he? HELLO!!! You're FOUR!!!

Then we went camping last weekend. Again, the big boys asked if they could go play with some friends at an adjoining campsite. No problem. But again, the Caboose figured that if the big kids could take off, so could he. He wandered away, without so much as a glance in my direction. With nothing more than the small circle of light provided by the campfire, I was tracking the flickering lights on his sandals as he played near our site. It was only a very brief time before I realized I hadn't seen those little red lights. He had simply vanished. Can I tell you how scary it is to lose a young child, while camping, in the dark?

We found him quickly enough, but I'm beginning to wonder if we will continue to be so fortunate as to find him every time he gets lost. My other kids didn't wander off like this, and I don't really know how to manage it. He's been punished, but it hasn't seem to impress upon him the seriousness of what is happening.

I just love this kid so very, very much.

Carpool Craziness

THIS kid begins school at 7:25 and finishes at 2:45.

But THIS kid doesn't start school until 9:05. He is done at 4:00.

And even THIS kid has a school schedule to be worked in, beginning at 8:45 and winding up at 1:45 (3x a week.)

It takes over an hour and half each morning to see all the kids off to school, and it takes another two hour window to get them home. Umm, I don't think so.

After more collaboration and negotiation than the Israelis and the Palestinians have ever managed, I am now involved in THREE separate carpool schedules, made up of NINE different families.

Should we start laying bets now as to how long it will be before I blow it, and leave some poor child waiting on a curb somewhere???

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On a related note: BB#1 is loving middle school. "It's not what I expected and it's waaaay different from 5th grade, but in a good way." BB#2 is concerned that the boys in his class may not like sports enough, and the Caboose keeps explaining to me that girls have no business whatsoever sitting next to the boys during circle time. Things seem to be proceeding pretty much as expected. Very good.

Rules of the Game

The boys were recently introduced to the Slugbug/Punchbug game by a friend. (Yeah, thanks for that one!)

There has been some confusion as to the rules of the game. I am here to clear this up:

THE RULES OF THE GAME:

1. When you see a slugbug, you may hit ONLY one person in the car. This is NOT a pass to hit each of your brothers.

2. You may only hit that one person ONCE. One punch, one person, per car. Multiple hits = taking advantage of the situation.

3. When you hit your one person, do so LIGHTLY. If anyone screams "OWWW!!!" after your victory, you have hit too hard. I say, aim for something close to a tap (which will likely feel like a medium hit to whomever is on the receiving end.)

4. It is not enough to SEE the VW bug, you must be the first one to CALL it out loud. You may not argue about who was the first to see the car.

5. If you mistakenly call out "Slugbug" but the car turns out to be something else, whomever you hit may hit you (lightly) back. However, if the confused person DID NOT hit, no one may hit them.

6. There is NO such thing as "Slug-truck" or "Slug-speedy car" or even "Slug-fire truck." VW Beetles - that's it.

See, it's all really simple. Just follow the rules, and you can continue with this parent-approved game of attack.