Normally, our schedule works out just perfectly for homeschooling. Charlotte and Jamie are always gone in the morning (on certain days, so is Ollie) and Alice is there just for the morning and is in school for the afternoon. Maria does her independent work in the morning while I keep the other kids busy and in the afternoon we are able to work on things together. But Monday Dawn was gone so our lessons were invaded by kittens who wanted to play.
I learned that Maria is a sucker for playing Frozen.
It started with Charlotte quietly but aggressively showing off her Elsa costume.
That escalated rather quickly into her serenading us with her angelic voice. “Let it Go,” of course.
And in the amount of time it took me to put laundry from the washing machine into the dryer and a new load in the washing machine, the girls had all finagled themselves into costumes, including Ollie.
And the girl who was supposed to be skip counting and multiplying and then correcting horrible sentences was sucked into costume as well — dancing included.
Needless to say, hardly anything productive got accomplished until nap time. Finally Maria was able to finish her math and move on to a landform project and research on Antarctica expeditions. But time flew by because by 3:15 we were scurrying out the door for the first day of dance for Alice and Charlotte.
I know how the passage of time works and that these kiddies are getting older but it always blows me away how I don’t really realize it until milestones and activities and things like new dance seasons and bigger leotards enter the picture. The last time Charlotte took dance, I had to be in the room with her and even then she hardly participated. She sat on my lap 70% of the time. But not now. Now, she joins her class and I wait in the waiting room and watch her on the tv screens set up and she does everything the teacher asks her to do. And she even changes from her tap shoes to her ballet shoes all by herself. No help. When did that growth happen?
And Alice certainly isn’t as shy and quiet as she was the last time she was in class. She’s silly and talks to her new friends and isn’t embarrassed or afraid to shake those little hips and wave those arms. Yep, they’re definitely growing up.
And Alice is growing up enough, apparently, to know that if you see money lying around, you’d better swipe it before it disappears into someone else’s hands. I know this because I got a text from Miss Megan today:
“Just letting you know that Alice had $70 in her pocket. It’ll be in an envelope on Miss Amanda’s Desk.”
You guys. My 5 year old swiped $70 off our hutch and took it to school. I’d be interested to know who she thought she was going to impress or what she thought she might buy at school. And, for the record, I don’t just have money lying around the house all the time. And most certainly nothing ever over $5. But I am organizing things to be ready for when we leave and that $70 was part of a very organized pile I was leaving for our babysitter along with notes and instructions.
I think maybe she was mad at me because earlier I took away her privileges for basically doing whatever she wanted without listening to a word I said and then she called me the “biggest, fattest, meany head in the whole world.” You guys, that “fattest” part cut the deepest, hands down. Call me mean. Call me even a ‘meany head.’ But when you call me the fattest in the whole world? Well those are fighting words. Poor Alice has lost all privileges for the rest of of the day. Oh, to be a $70-rich 5 year old.