Tales of a Shoebox Princess

I'm only checking in for a second here. Gotta make the heart-shaped meatloaf, the heart-shaped biscuits, the red jello and the heart-shaped cupcakes now before I head off for a second shift at work. I also have to set up the treasure hunt. Happy Valentine's Day!

The other evening at dinner, Matt had his head cocked to the side so his mid-sagittal plane was parallel to the floor, and he was drinking water, then holding it in his mouth for a little while. I asked him what he was doing (I might have said, "What the heck are you doing??"). He looked at me without moving his head, swallowed the water in his mouth, and said, "I'm a sideways pelican." The boy is TWELVE. Not FOUR. Yet, he still exists in his own imaginary world. I want to open that boy's head up and see just what is going on in there. And now for something not completely different, since it involves Matt. And Hayley. This has to do with the monthly parent newsletter sent out by the middle school that Matt and Hayley attend. Since school began, my children have appeared in photographs in the newsletter 4 out of the 6 issues. And none of the photos are recognitions for outstanding studentry. They are just random photos from activities and classes in the

Last letter, dear readers. I picked this one because Dave taunts Jim in it. I left home when Dave was 11 and so I didn't see him develop into the smart aleck he is today, but this letter proves that he was winding up to it. And it showcases one of Dave's favorite pastimes, baseball. At the top of the page, he starts with this: A simple math equation for Sara, 11(2)=x, answer on back. [He sent this around my 22nd birthday so this letter would have been from early Dec 1989 when Dave was a freshman in high school] Dear Sara and Jim (and the little one) [I was pregnant with Kate], Very very cold here. No snow. That's very, very bad for me and the ski team. I got new skis and poles, and boots and the whole bit. Now all I need to learn is how to ski. I got on the B honor roll for the 1st quarter! That's quite an accomplishment for me at least. I don't know if I told you this already, but I got a student recognition award for history. Jim, here's the new Oakland

For Mike's letter feature, I'm going to post excerpts of a few letters. Jen, enjoy the insights into a younger Mike (late 80s, early 90s). Sara--Hi How's collage [sic], sounds big, fun and easy to get lost in. Jr. High is so fun. I know so many new people. I'm on the wrestleing [sic] team and we even have cheerleaders...School's kind [of] tough though like pts and stuff assignment cards. It's all very proper. Sara, Hola, que tal? Tell me some college things. I can't stand this paper. It's very lame [he wrote a letter on stationary with Garfield jumping into a pile of flowers on it]. Mom bought Twinkies for us kids lunches. Weird. Deer Sarah [Mike went through a phase of purposeful alternate spellings] I got a cd player (don't tell mom). It's real cool and I got my thumbnail pierced. I showed it to J_____ V_____ A________ (flaming art teacher) [Mike's words, not mine. And he also wrote the teacher's full name which I am blotting out in

I cleaned in my room just a little today, if you can call putting really old letters into a binder "cleaning." And because I have nothing to post about today, I am going to post the contents of one of the letters, written 25 September 1986 by my brother Jake, who was a freshman in high school at the time, and I was a freshman in college. I'm gonna type it as he wrote it, even though it pains me not to change his non-standard usages to standard ones. He writes: Dear Sara, I am writing this letter on a computer in the southern wing of the building. This computer center has one Apple IIe and aaaah, well I guess it's the only one [I'm butting in here. The building Jake is referring to is my mother's house. Yes, she had an Apple IIe! She was ahead of the times back then, courtesy of her husband, my stepdad Gary.] It is so much easier to write letters with this Applewriter disk Gary let me use [floppy disks!]. Ha Ha Ha I thought that was funny so should you. In o

Another concert last night. This time Hayley played with the Middle School Honor band in a double concert with a band comprised of adult musicians from Bloomington. In this picture, Hayley blows air through the double reed which she has inserted into the mouthpiece of her instrument, thus making some noise, which you can't hear because it's only a picture, not a video. Here is a labeled picture of the band as they are standing up to move off the stage to make room for the older band. This is a picture of a face that Hayley made. I had to guess at the conversation. I might have been wrong. This pictures is not of Hayley, but of Katie's former flute teacher. She's in the Bloomington band. After the concert, Mrs. O (the flute teacher) approached Hayley because she recognized her from all the times I brought Hayley to flute lessons with Katie. Mrs. O says she remembers both Matt and Hayley because they were such quiet and well-behaved children during flute lessons. She

The Evans' family traditional treasure hunt has thrilled the children for ten years (give or take a year), but this year, I thought I might have to give it up. In fact, I told the three remaining Evans children that there would be no treasure hunt because I have been wicked busy the last few weeks and hadn't even thought about the treasure hunt. But mommy guilt set in (horrid horrid mommy guilt--why is it I feel like the scum of the earth when I can't do a treasure hunt, but I have no problem yelling at the kids until my voice goes numb? Mommy guilt is a false friend) and I spent yesterday morning before church coming up with three little puzzles to satisfy my need to make the obtaining of Valentine candy difficult for my children. Here's how it's going to go. (Kate, if you read this and spill the beans to any of your siblings via text or facebook or phone or any other manner, you will not receive any packages from me for a year. Don't spoil the fun for the ot

One of my little minions owes me some money. Tired of nagging the guilty party for what is owed, I wrote up a contract. I still owe mom $6.00. I need to do jobs to pay her back. I will do these jobs: 1. __________________________________________________ 2. __________________________________________________ 3. __________________________________________________ 4. __________________________________________________ 5. __________________________________________________ 6. _________________________________________________ I will do them all by this date: ____________________ This means that I will do _____ job every ________ day at this time of the day _____________________ in order to meet the deadline. If I do not complete the jobs by the time I have promised, I will pick out double the number of jobs on the list and choose a new deadline. I understand that further missed deadlines will result in mom posti

Celly is not dead. Jim resuscitated it. But now I don't trust celly anymore. It'll play dead now whenever it wants to just to frustrate me. And the children continue to frustrate. Last night when I got home from another late shift sub job, Jim informed me that Paul had informed him that there was a band concert that night. Grrr. Not that I grrr at band concerts, but I do grrrrr at children who forget to tell me of things I want to attend. The rug of a relaxing evening was pulled out from under my tired feet. Actually, I had to go grocery shopping--that was my original plan--but that was scuttled. And now we need milk and I don't have time today to shop. I'm only blogging now because I have an interlude of a few minutes between work and another appointment. Dinner tonight? Whatever Jim can scrounge up because I will be working AGAIN this afternoon (sixth school day afternoon/early evening in a row--the money is nice, but when do I go grocery shopping?) I keep sayi