The Sandbox

We have had a sandbox for the last 8 years and we were so spoiled by it. True, I've had a fair share of sand clean-up in those years, but the hours my kids have spent playing together digging and creating are priceless. Our new house has a very woodsy landscape. There's no grass but there's plenty of great places to play--but we were sorely missing our sand. David and I walked around the property several times, looking for the perfect place to build our new sand utopia. We decided on a sloping area off the back porch. We made it a family project and all worked together to dig trenches for the lumber, clear the foundation, and spread sand. In reality, David and I worked a wee bit harder than the kids, but everyone helped in theory nonetheless.


Clearing pine needles and rocks. Zinabu is "misting" us when we got hot.


Three musketeers pretending to work.


Our new house is in a very quiet, private neighborhood where there are no children but tons of retired couples that have fallen in love with our family. Here are Charlie and Kathy talking to David. Charlie loaned us his 6 wheeler to haul the 1 ton of sand we bought from the street up to the sandbox. Our new neighbors are wonderful.


The hill from the street up to the sandbox that we were going to have to traverse with wheelbarrows. God bless the invention of the 6 wheeler!


One ton of sand only goes so far. We plan to add more in smaller portions as we are able.


A quick break with a surgical glove. Don't ask.


Breaking in the new sandbox! Anyone want to come play?

How It All Went Down

I am so behind in blogging I don't know where to start. Maybe I'll post our 4th of July pictures next year... not to mention more pictures of our new house and the big sandbox construction project. But alas, *Buddy made his way into our lives and I'll share what happened.

We told Lily a few days ago that we would begin our active search for a dog on August 1. We have some camping trips planned in July and Lily has day camp at the zoo all next week, so we figured August would be better timing. Lily immediately went into planning mode and begged and begged us to just "take a peek" at dogs at the humane society. We looked on the computer together, and although they had lots of black lab mixes, there were no yellow labs--which is her first choice.

On a whim I typed in "Yellow Labrador puppy for sale" in our city, and one popped up. Buddy. He is 8 months old and big but housebroken (bonus). His current owners adopted him from another family that bought him as a brand new puppy. They didn't realize what they were getting into (doesn't anyone research what it's like to have a dog?) and soon were in over their heads. So family number 2 took Buddy at 5 months old. Family number 2 is looking to sell their house in the near future and possibly moving, so they wanted to find Buddy a new home. Insert my search the other day and voila!

Because he's a purebred and because she was selling him so cheap, I figured I needed to at least call her and do some investigating. I went to meet him yesterday, and even though his size overwhelmed me a bit, I could tell this would be a great dog for our family. I paid her a deposit and worked out a deal where she'll hold him for us for about 10 more days. I'm thinking around July 20th we can bring him home and surprise Lily.

Lily has saved and saved and saved her money and purchased a dog cage, balls, leash, collar, toys, and food and water bowls. Now David and I just need to distract her for the next 13 days because all she wants to do is talk about dogs and research dogs and look at dogs.

Rest assured I will take photos and video of the grand event. And Aunt Diana, please come visit soon. Buddy the dog will be eager to meet you.

*Buddy comes with his current name. I don't know if we'll change it. Lily will have to decide.

Daddy
Mommy
Carver
Lily
Zinabu
*Buddy the lab

Yu-ummm!

Each of our kids has had at least one major meltdown in the last week--all the stress of the move, missing their neighborhood friends, and watching mom and dad unpack endless boxes has made for some miserable little children. Yesterday is was Lily's turn. In the midst of her trauma, I asked if she wanted to bake cookies and lo and behold, she snapped right out of her funk. We made the most delicious batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I'm beginning to think that our old oven at our old house wasn't super accurate in the temperature department. My mom's oven is almost new and acts like it! Also, my mom has this incredibly handy-dandy device that I bet you've never heard of: a kitchen timer. Yup. Isn't that fantastic? At our old kitchen, I would throw a batch of cookies in the oven, look at the clock, and think to myself, "Take 'em out in 12 minutes." Turns out a real live kitchen timer is super accurate. Hmmmm. Go figure.

My mom is good that way. She has stuff like that in her house that I've just never gotten around to buying. I mean, honestly, I do not write "buy kitchen timer" on my Target list. My Target list consists of items like new underwear and heartburn medicine. I just don't have time for all them high-falutin' things that make life easier.

Anyway, the cookies were yummy and Lily hasn't cried since.

Update (*With Edit*)
You'll be happy to learn I stood my ground on the trophy drama. Last night I took Zinabu to a T-ball game and found the woman who was collecting money for trophies. Very discreetly I explained that David and I felt trophies at this age was a little excessive (gross understatement) and she didn't need to order one for Z. I asked if anyone else had decided not to purchase a trophy.

No.

So after the last T-ball game, we'll make a mad dash for the car while all the other 4 and 5 year olds are bestowed with goody bags, team photos, and trophies (insert puking noises).

**I just told a friend that I hope I didn't make anyone who likes rewards and trophies feel badly about it. I think it comes with the perspective we have from Carver and Lily. They've been rewarded for everything you can imagine in their young lives, and recently when Carver made the honor roll he asked, "Do I get a prize?" It seems they've lost the ability to work hard for the sake of working hard. Because Zinabu is our youngest, we're coming at this issue with a different mindset.

Zinabu can hit the ball off the T like a cannon, and he had a fabulous time at the game last night. He takes outfiielding very seriously, too, and treats grounders with the utmost attention. He's got a good arm, too. I'm surprised at how coordinated he is, given his gigantoid growth spurt his first year in the United States. He grew so tall, so fast, it's a miracle he can find his own two feet.

Our plans for the rest of the day are to CLOSE ON OUR OLD HOUSE and then go to Carver's baseball game. Can you believe we survived this housing market and are actually closing? We feel incredibly blessed. That means I can sleep well tonight and take more pictures of the new house tomorrow. For now, I leave you with this quote from Zinabu:

Mom, I didn't wear underwear today because I wanted to get a head start when I was getting dressed. But you were right... it hurts to not wear underwear.

The Post Where You Realize How Opinionated I Am...

So this summer, both Zinabu and Carver are playing baseball with our city's parks and recreation program. They both love it and are having a blast at the games and practices. All we want is for our kids to learn how to play well with others, know that winning isn't everything, encourage their teammates, and have fun learning a sport. I got a call on Friday afternoon from one of the mothers of Zinabu's team. She wanted to let me know that we'll be purchasing trophies for all the kids because, "you know... they love them so much." She quickly added this is an out of pocket expense because parks and rec. doesn't provide any trophies.

Duh, lady. They're 5. Why the heck do they deserve trophies????

I resent living in a society where my kids are rewarded for doing what is expected of them. I think it's completely ridiculous to give a bunch of kindergartners trophies for hitting a ball off of a T stand and running the bases. Please. If someone wanted to give Zinabu a trophy for traveling to a new country with a bunch of white people and blending into a new family that didn't speak his language and surviving a week in hospital isolation with the mumps, by all means--give him one. But for T-ball?

The part that really burns is that there was no vote among parents about whether or not we wanted to purchase trophies. I was just called and "told" that this is what we're doing. I need to bring $8.oo to the next practice for the trophy fund. I want to stand my ground, but if I do then my child is the only one who doesn't get one. And that's not fair because this isn't his battle to fight, it's mine. So I'm trying to decide how cruel and heartless I'll sound if I go to practice and at least suggest we nix the trophies--and have all the other parents whisper about me behind my back, "That's the cheap and heartless woman who won't even buy a trophy for her child!"

I just think the whole thing is stupid.

Joy!
Melodie, after months and months and months and months, finally received her referral for a baby girl! Woo hoo! And my friends from JR. HIGH (that's hard to write) are in Ethiopia right now to pick up their 2 boys. Go Yonans!

Now, here's to J.C. and the Peep-Eye family passing court. Let's go, people!