The Wheels on the Bus

Our kids’ school always struggles to get parents to help out with activities. But not on zoo day. For parents, the field trip to Hogle Zoo is pretty much the sweetest volunteer assignment there is – the school bus takes care of the transportation and the animals take care of the entertainment. Plus you get to spend a day outside in the sun with your kid.

And I was lucky enough to land the gig.

But it turns out, it’s a tougher task than I thought. Each parent was given a group of kindergartners to keep an eye on. For me that meant Tate, a boy I’ll call Horatio, and girls who we’ll call Miffy and Biffy. Here’s a quick look at our day together.

Before we got on the bus

Miffy: Biffy, do you want some sparkle chapstick? Here, have mine. 

Biffy: Yay! I love sparkle chapstick!

Miffy: I want it back. [Grab!] My mom says I can’t give away my chapstick.

Biffy: [Wailing] Miffy took my chapstick awaaaaaaay!

On the bus

Miffy: I’ve never been on the bus before.

Me: Pretty cool, huh?

Miffy: No. I’m skeeeered. [Waaaaaaaail.]

Me: You’re not scared. Stop fake-crying.

Biffy: [Bawling] Miffy keeps touching meeeeeee.

Me: Miffy, stop touching Biffy.

Biffy: [Bawling] Miffy’s not touching me.

Five minutes after arriving at the zoo

Miffy: I’m hungry.

Horatio: Me, too.

Biffy: [Bawling] I’m sooooo hungry.

Me: Lucky for you, I’ve got some snacks for you guys.

Five seconds after having our snack

Miffy: [Sees another group from her class eating granola bars] I’m soooo hungry. Can I have a granola bar?

Me: No. You’re not really hungry. You just had a snack.

Five minutes later

Miffy: [Sees another group from her class eating ice cream] Uhhhh. I’m sooooooo hot. It’s so hot out here.

Me: No it’s not. It’s 65 degrees.

Miffy: If only there was something that could cool me down.

Me: I’m not buying you ice cream.

Miffy: But I’m sooooo hot.

Just about every minute after

Me: Horatio, hurry up. Tate, over here. Ladies, come on. Come back. Over here. Let’s go.

Biffy: [Bawling] Miffy’s being mean to meeeeeee.

Miffy: [Bawling] Biffy’s bugging meeeee.

Tate: I’m boooooored.

10 minutes before we have to get back on the bus

Me: Girls, come back. Don’t run.

Biffy: [Trips and goes tumbling down] Whaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Me: Are you okay?

Biffy: No! I need a band-aid here. And here. And here and here. [Sob, sob, sob]
Could this day GET ANY WORSE?!

Me: I hear ya, Biffy. I hear ya.

The whole field trip only lasted about three hours but somehow it felt much, much longer. I tip my hat to all of the teachers who deal with 30 of these little rug rats all day, every day.

Nevertheless, it was nice to spend a few extra hours with my favorite redheaded monster.

The Truth Behind the Picture of the Smiling Kindergartner

One of the criticisms of social media is that people only share the perfect parts of their lives -- the smiling family photos, the vacations, the list of reasons why they love their spouse. And, of course, the first day of school pics.

Sure enough, Tate was smiling in this photo, taken right before he headed off to his second day of kindergarten. But here's the backstory:

This is the first year that all three of our kids are at the same school. That means, instead of driving back and forth all morning, Traci just has to drop them off at the bus stop. Hooray!

But to make sure he ended up where he was supposed to, Traci drove Tate to school on his first day. School went fine but he told us, in no uncertain terms, that he WAS NOT going to take the bus the next day.

Today was the next day.

Because Traci was taking Curtis to the dentist, I was in charge of taking Tate to the bus.

"I'm not going to the bus," he said as he walked out to the car.

"Ha, ha. Sure you are," I assured him.

"I'm not riding the bus," he said as we drove to the stop.

"The bus is the best part of school," I countered.

"You said P.E. was the best part of school."

"Oh, yeah. Well, the bus is the second best part," I hedged.

"I'm NOT going on the bus."

Whether he liked it or not, he was going on the bus. 

---

When we got to the stop, he happily jumped out of the car with Paige.

I knew he'd get on the bus. 

Not wanting to make any waves, I just stayed in the car and waited for the bus to show up. After about five minutes, Paige and Tate came running back to the car.

"Tate is hitting me and biting me!" Paige screamed.

Oh, great.

"Tate, quit hitting and biting Paige. Go wait for the bus."

"I'm NOT GOING on the bus!"

And then the bus showed up.

"You're getting on the bus."

He wasn't. 

--

I picked him up and carried him to the bus. He spent the whole time hitting and kicking me. (His little legs are the perfect length to kick me directly in the crotch.)

I stood in line behind the other kids (while my crotch was being kicked) and carried him right through the bus doors and up the stairs. The driver stared blankly at me as I said, "Here you go" and set him down.

The crowd behind us pushed forward and Tate had no choice but to follow Paige to their seat. There was literally no turning back.

I snapped another pic before the bus pulled away but he refused to look at me. (And Paige stuck her tongue out at me.)

And that's what it's really like to send your last kid to kindergarten.

First Day of Kindergarten

Academic milestone at the Sutherland house: Tate is now a kindergartner, meaning all three kids are now in elementary school.

Last Day of 4th Grade

Last Day of Preschool

#TatersGonnaTate

Some Children Love the Performing Arts...Others Do Not

The theme of the end-of-year program at the elementary school was "Celebrate."

Here's how that theme was illustrated by Paige. 

And by Curtis.

He doesn't quite share his sister's passion for the stage. 

The Curtis of the Future

This came home from class the other day. 

Looks like Curtis' memory of the past includes his crib and a stuffed monkey that he's since handed down to Tate. (It's now Tate's favorite toy. He's named Onkey and he goes everywhere that Tate goes.)

In his present, Curtis looks to be quite the attentive student. 

Traci asked him what he was he was doing in the future. 

"Going to work, like dad."

"What does Dad do at his work?" Traci asked. 

"I dunno."

Future looks bright. 

A Day at Preschool

One of the cool things about my work is that we get eight hours of paid time off to volunteer wherever we'd like. That means  I get to have a little more time with my favorite four year old. 

Today I spent the morning at his preschool. 

I got to practice both my uppercase and lowercase Hs, sing some songs about alligators, and spend a lot of time sitting in a very tiny chair. 

But I wasn't just there to learn. I was there to work. 

I spent about an hour and a half cutting out laminated pages and I must say I was pretty good at it (though the cutting muscles in my right arm are a little sore tonight). 

I spent the other half of the class working at the teaching table, where I practiced colors, shapes, and letters with the kids, including this guy. 

It's fun to see him in his element, talking to his little buddies, raising his hand to answer questions, enjoying snack time. But the best part for me was seeing how proud he was to show off his dad.

I felt pretty proud, too. 

Back to School

The kids have survived their first week of school (and Traci survived another summer with the kids - barely).

Paige is a big third grader. Basically running the school.

Curtis has made the big move from Kindergarten to first grade, which means all day at school, navigating the lunch line, and getting three recesses (Paige spent all last year telling Curtis how sweet it is to have three recesses!) 

Even Tate will be a school kid soon. He met his preschool teacher this week and will become an official big kid next week. Until then, he's been running the house all by himself.

"Tate," I said. "Do you miss Paige and Curtis when they're at school?"

"No," he said flatly. Then he told me to get out of the way so he could keep playing Punch-Out on the Wii.

Family life.

Date Night with My Favorite Girl

The Daddy-Daughter Dance at Paige's school is pretty much the best night of the year.

Once again, I had the prettiest date at the ball. But this time she expected more out of me.

About 30 seconds into the first song, Paige grew bored of my step-step-clap dance moves. She looked up at me and said, "is that all you're going to do?"

I'm pretty sure she wanted me to be throwing her around like a swing dancer, but luckily she settled for the next best thing. I'd do a sweet move -- like throwing my hands in the air or doing some sweet robot marching -- and she'd follow right along. I'm sure we were quite the sight to behold.

Other than pausing for a bit of cake and having our picture taken, we spent 90 straight minutes dancing. We did the Cupid Shuffle and the Hokey Pokey and the Cha Cha Slide. We sang along with Miley and T-Swift and all those girls who may or may not be Demi Lovato. And we slow danced to My Girl. We had a wonderful time.

It's good to be a daddy of a daughter.

And Now We Have a Kindergartner

Today Curtis became a kindergartner.

Because he goes to the afternoon class, I wasn't around for the first day drop off. Here's the report I got from Traci.

Traci: Curtis, are you nervous?

Curtis: No.

Traci: Are you excited?

Curtis: No.

Traci: Are you scared?

Curtis: No.

Traci: Do you think it will be fun?

Curtis: No.

Despite his (always) stoic exterior, it sounds like he went into the class, sat down on the rug, and got right to being a kindergartner.

(Traci then went back to car and cried a little bit.)

When I talked to him tonight, he gave me a pretty succinct review. Story time. Recess. Puzzles. And a treat consisting of both gummy bears and a cookie. Plus, he met two friends--Jordan and Jack (or Jake, he couldn't quite remember which).

Sounds like a pretty good day.

Paige Starts 2nd Grade (and It's No Big Deal)

The first day of school is hard...for parents.

I remember being nervous the day Paige went off to preschool (looking back at the photo, I can't believe how little she was). Would she be scared? Would she listen to her teacher? Would she be nice to the other kids?

Sending her off to kindergarten (on the bus!) was even harder. How would she do at lunchtime? Who would she play with at recess? Would she scared to be on the bus by herself?

Then she tested into the advanced learner program for first grade, so we sent her to a new school. How would she do with the tougher curriculum? Would she still be smart when surrounded by a bunch of other little nerds?

Of course, there was probably never a need to worry. She loves school. She's smart. She's made friends. She's a nerdy teacher's pet.

So this year, I didn't worry. I just gave her a kiss and sent her on her way. She'll be just fine.

Now Curtis on the other hand...he starts kindergarten on Wednesday. I'm nervous. 

No Longer a First Grader

We went to Paige's end-of-school-year program the other night. The kids sang and danced and, to her ultimate delight, Paige's class got to tell knock-knock jokes. (Paige is the queen of Laffy Taffy-esque zingers, always making up her instant classics, e.g., "What kind of ghost does a football squad like? Team spirit.) I loved watching Paige sing her little heart out (she's the kid that sings about 20 decibels louder than everyone else), but my favorite part was at the end. 

The theme of program was "Because I Knew You." Each of the first graders wrote a little paragraph on the theme. They were hanging on the back wall. Paige wrote an ode to Curtis: 

"Because I knew Curtis I can always know when to laugh. It makes your life a more joyful thing. Laughing makes others lives more joyful and it makes you happy. Because I knew Curtis I am filled with laughter."

Pretty sweet. (When we read it to Curtis, he simply shrugged his shoulders, as he tends to do.)

She also made this self-portrait, holding her favorite book, which is (apparently) High Tide in Hawaii. 

--

We were happy when we found that Paige had tested into the Advanced Learner program after kindergarten. But we were also a little apprehensive about sending her to a new school.

We shouldn't have been nervous. She loved first grade and it's been good for her to be surrounded by other little nerds who love reading and spelling and telling their parents that they are smarter than them (probably true, but still not okay to say).

We only had one little problem. Always worried about Paige's social world, I tend to ask her more about who she sat by at lunch than what she's been learning in class. In the winter, I could tell something was up.

"Paige, who'd you sit by at lunch today?"

"Um, I don't...exactly...know."

"You don't know who you sat by? Who did you play with at recess?"

"I mostly just played by...myself."

[The sound of my heart breaking] "Really? Why?"

"I...just wanted to."

"So what did you do exactly?"

"I just played in the snow."

"With the other kids?"

"No. Just by myself."

We went through this for several weeks. She went out of her way to tell me that it was by choice that she was all by herself, and that she really didn't mind being alone...and that she didn't really want me to keep bugging her about it.

We couldn't tell if she was being left out or she'd been mean to the other kids or she was being weird to be weird. But I didn't like it one bit. Traci and I talked about all different approaches we could take to the problem--from calling other kids' moms to encourage their kids to play with Paige to sitting at recess with her so she wouldn't be alone. We finally decided to talk about it with her teacher. (Which was the approach we should have taken in the first place.) But right as we did, the problem corrected itself. She was back to playing with friends and we haven't had any problems since. (We never found out what the original problem was, though.)

It's been a good year. Though she (regularly) drives us crazy, we've got a pretty great, smart, beautiful little girl.

Curtis: Officially a Preschool Graduate

Big day for little Curt. Preschool graduation. For years, I've been writing about Curtis refusing to smile. Today was no exception.

During the little graduation program, the kids were giggling, and singing, and doing the actions for the songs. Not Curtis. That's not the kind of guy he is. 

Here's a little sample of his performance: (This is Curtis as his most enthusiastic. Seriously):



At the end, the teacher showed a little slideshow, including a few closeups of each of the kids. When Curtis' picture came up she said, "Here's Curtis. You can almost see his teeth. Believe me, that took a lot of work."


Traci kept commentating about how fast the two years of preschool has flown by. Curt does seem like a big kid, but when I think of him starting kindergarten in the fall, I'd like to slow down the clock a little bit.

Despite his stony exterior, he's really enjoyed preschool. His teacher is so sweet with him. At parent/teacher conference she said, "Curtis is a very confident boy and when he makes a decision, he sticks to it. These are very good traits." You'd think she was just using euphemisms for "stubborn," but she's from the Eastern Bloc--where Curtis' iron will really would take him far.

Smiles or no, we're sure proud of the little guy.

Show 'n Teach

Paige's class doesn't do show and tell--they do show and teach. Each kid has to bring something that they can teach the class about. Because Paige is toward the end of the alphabet, we got to hear about what the other kids were doing before she had her turn.

Paige raved about Abbey's show and teach about the Chinese zodiac. Abbey even sent everyone home with a handout that told what years were associated with each animal. Paige spent the afternoon saying, "Dad, you were born in the year of the monkey. Mom, you were born in the year of the goat. Great Grandma was born in the..." and on and on.

But Abbey's presentation paled in comparison to Hector's, who brought real life shells all the way from  a beach in Mexico. All of the kids even got to touch the shells and put them up to their ear so they could hear the ocean.

When it came time for Paige's turn, she really wanted to share something good.

"Maybe you could take one of dad's keyboards and teach them some of the things you've learned at your piano lessons," Traci suggested.

Nope, not good enough.

"Maybe you take some of Curtis' monster trucks and teach them the scoring rules of Monster Jam," I suggested.

Oh, Dad.

No matter what we offered up, it just wasn't interesting enough, Paige protested.

That's when I got an idea.

"Mom, are you going to the ranch this weekend?" I asked my mother over the phone. "You are? Would you mind picking up some sheep bones if you see any around? Excellent. Thanks."

Real life bones. That'd be better than a handout or a stupid shell, for sure.

"Paige," I said, "Do you think you'd want to take some bones for your show and teach?"

Her eyes lit up and her head nodded in approval.

When we got to my mom's to pick up the bones, there was a surprise for us. My mom hadn't settled for some boring old sheep bones. She'd brought home this:

Paige was ecstatic.

"I think a few of the neck vertebrae are still attached," my mom exclaimed.

I was a little bit nauseous.

Sure, a real life cow skull seems awesome enough. But it smelled horrible. And I was a little hestitant to actually touch it.

"Oh, and I put a dead mouse in that bag, too," my mom added, "in case Paige wants to take that, too."

I was about to throw up.

The skull proved to be unwieldy at best. We couldn't find a box big enough to carry it in and it smelled so bad (even after I soaked it in bleach) that we had to keep it out on the side of the house until the day Paige took it to school.

When the big day arrived, the skull wouldn't fit in Paige's backpack. And I ended up having to carry it to her class for her. "Uh, hi first grade teacher. I'll just set this box o' cow skull on this desk over here."

When I got home from work that night, I was pretty excited to see how the presentation had gone.

"Paige, how'd it go? What did the class think about your skull?"

"They liked it. My teacher passed it around and let everyone touch it if they wanted to."

"So, what did you tell them about it?"

"I told them the things we practiced." [The number of bones in a cow's body, what bones are made of, etc.]

"But I added one part to my speech."

"Oh, yeah. What was that?"

"I told them, 'These are bones of a cow who trespassed.'"

Wow. I'm not sure where she got that from. But I guess all you cows out there better beware.

Congraduation

Curtis is not gonna do nuthin for no one. You want him to sing along at his last-day-of-preschool program? Nope. You want him to do the little dance about the countries of the world? Uh-uh. Smile for a picture? Forget about it.

Despite his generally contrarian demeanor, he secretly loved his first year of preschool. He loves playing at the "block center" (where you play with blocks, clever title), eating snacks, and being around Mischa, the girl I think he has a crush on.

I can't believe how quickly the school year has flown by. Seems like it was just his first day of school.

After his program ended, I had to head straight back to work. On my way back, I sent a little text message to Traci to read to him (yes, I send my kids texts) telling him I was proud of him and that I loved him.

Traci's response--"That made Curtis roll his eyes and smack himself in the face."

That's my boy.

Parrots

 

I don't know if Paige's class is ready for the awesomeness of her report on her favorite animal, the parrot (because it starts with P, just like her name.)

The First Kiss

When Paige's first boyfriend was eaten by wolves, I was hoping that she was done with boys forever. No such luck.

We were in the car the other day when she said to me, "You'll never believe what happened at school."

"Oh, yeah," I replied, only kind of paying attention.

"Deacon kissed me!"

"WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!" I was now paying full attention.

"He kissed me."

"Why did he kiss you?"

"Because he loves me soooo much."

I tried to keep it cool. I didn't want to let her know that I was rattled.

"So, did he kiss you on your cheek?"

"No, on my lips."


...

A few days later, I decided to bring it up again.

"Paige, you shouldn't let boys kiss you. Only dad."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because boys are gross and toot and stuff."

"And say naughty words," she added.

"Yeah. So if Deacon tries to kiss you again, you just say, 'No way, Deacon. You're gross.'"

She seemed to be okay with that. I'll take that as a verbal contract that is valid until her wedding day.

Curtis: The Fugitive

Paige skipping school wasn't the only big news of the day. Traci came home with Curtis' preschool picture as well. She texted this to me:

She added in her note, "I feel like this pretty much sums up Curtis as a three-year-old."

Curtis isn't going to let anyone tell him what to do. Do you think Curtis is going to smile or say cheese just because you ask him to? Oh, heavens no. Instead, he's going to just go ahead and pose for his eventual mugshot. What can I say, he's a tough guy.

The next day, I tried to sneak a smile out of him as we walked Paige to the bus stop. I didn't capture any teeth, but I did get this shot of him wearing his Salt Lake Bees hat.

Underneath that rough exterior, he's really a softie.

Parenthood Firsts: The "Sick" Day

I was at work when Paige's elementary school called.

"Hi, this is the secretary. We've got Paige here in the sick room. She says her stomach doesn't feel well and she thinks she might throw up."

Uh-oh.

"Can you come pick her up or would you like us to keep her here?"

"I'm at work, but my wife should be home. Let me see if I can track her down."

I found Traci and she headed over to pick up our sick little girl. I was heading into a meeting, but I asked her to text me when she picked Paige up.


TRACI: I've got her, but I feel really doubtful that she's sick.


This was at about 11:00. Traci takes Curtis to preschool at 12:30.


SPENCER: See if she wants to go back when you take Curtis.


TRACI: She's mad because I told her that if she's sick, she can't have any Halloween candy. She doesn't want to go back, though.


TRACI: She just asked me for lunch. I asked about her "sick" stomach. She told me it's actually her teeth that hurt. What is the emoticon for rolling eyes? 


Despite the lack of candy, Paige seemed to have a wonderful day off of school. I got this text later in the afternoon.


TRACI: Paige is in her room playing school. Apparently being a teacher requires you to speak in a British accent. 


Oh, the irony of staying home from school just so you can play school in your room.


I guess this shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise. Just the Sunday before, Paige said to me, "Can we stay home from church today?"


"No," I replied. "We have to go to church."


"We could just pretend we're sick."


Yes, I thought. Yes, we could.