extraordinary ordinary

I was hoping that I could finish off this month-plus long break from school feeling rested, rejuvenated and ready for another round of classes, but on the contrary, my friend. These kids are keeping us (mostly me) up at night (I got out of bed SIX times for Alana last night), and days are both wonderful and awful. Hendrik has these moments where he's sweet and thoughtful and does what we ask of him (no not right away) and then there are moments where he's awful and stubborn and so so so so so (times a zillion billion) frustrating - and his parents try their best to remain calm and patient (on the outside at least) and ready to try (and ask) again. We're wondering how much it has to do with school - he tends to be better on non-school days, but then again who knows.... I can tell you this though: getting him to school on time every morning - which is 9:00 which means leaving our house at 8:50 - is stressful and nearly impossible, no matter what time we wake up. The more I talk to new friends about junior kindergarten, the less enthused I am about it. However... the señor says that he likes going to school and he says that he wants to stay all day (I'm not sure I believe him), so we'll just see how it all goes and take it one week at a time. Or one day at a time. Sometimes, there's no doubt that we're going hour by hour with sights set on bedtime (which just happened for Alana, because of last night's interrupted sleep and an early afternoon nap; it's 9:46), and that's fine too.

There are many things to write about, some catch up from our time in Bowmanville, and some catch-up from this past week, and I will get to them in no particular order. Hendrik had his first swimming lesson on Wednesday, and it was wonderful - for all. It was one of those everyday moments that is so ordinary and so extraordinary at the same time; Alana fell asleep in the car, so was sleeping on my chest in the lobby, in perfect view of the pool. Steve brought Hendrik in, and until the instructor arrived it was just the two of them on the pool deck - barefoot father with rolled up jeans and a tall four-year old in his bathing suit, waiting. And then Laurel the instructor arrived and then there were two in the pool (the two other kids in his 3:00 class were no shows - the weather was horrible!). Seeing Hendrik branch out on his own (no parents allowed!) and be himself and be confident and laugh and listen to someone else - to really be himself without us around to ask or remind or contribute - was a bit magical. Okay, not magical, but ... something. It was something. With the late afternoon light pouring in and a sleeping babe on my body, and with the other two that I love just there - one watching, one laughing and splashing and listening to his teacher - it was a perfect, everyday moment.

Onwards. We took the kids to the bowling alley for the first time whilst in Bowmanville, and it was great. Everyone old and young took advantage of the bumpers, and only Alana got her ball stuck halfway down the lane - she pulled the plunk move, missing the momentum and rolling part of the deal (you know what I'm talking about right?).

the best family shot we could get

I'm back at work in the gym (coaching), and I'm loving it. Am I forever destined to feel pulled between two things? For much of my junior life it was volleyball and basketball, and now it's between library and gym - though since Steve and I started playing 1 on 1 a few weeks ago, maybe I'll reignite that basketball flame and add another something something into the mix. I'm sure there's more to write about but I need to call it a night - at least until Alana says otherwise. Buenas noches!