A Box of Crayons

Can there really be something as ridiculous as vintage crayons?  I don't know, but I'm convinced I have a whole tin of them!

One of the projects I've taken on for the summer is to clean out the kids room and make their small, shared space more livable for them.  We've had a lot of headaches with our little rental here in Berkeley, but have recently been inspired to stick with it and make the best of it.

Unfortunately, our children's possessions amass to more than the rest of our household goods combined, so the first thing I've done in this process is to weed out a ton of their things and prepare for a garage sale.  I'm nearing the finish line: I've tackled books, toys, games, legos, stuffed animals, school portfolios, clothes, furniture, but one of the things I saved for last was the art stuff... ugh!  So many cut up papers, crumpled stickers, markers with no lids, paints, painting accouterments, paint pencils, paint crayons, tape, glue, rulers galore, erasers, sharpeners, stencils, folders, envelopes, miscellaneous bobbles and whose-its and what-nots, tons of highlighters, pens, sharpies, and crayons!  Lots of crayons; broken crayons, cheap crayons, melted crayons, fat crayons, skinny crayons.  You get the idea, right?  It was a mess!

I made an executive decision to just throw away all the broken, fat, or melted crayons.  That whittled down the supply considerably.  Pleased, I moved on to the metal tin of crayons I brought back from my grandmas' house.  I thought I would do the same thing with her box of crayons and then combine the two batches--hers and ours.  

But...  I opened the metal tin of crayons and that familiar smell of wax and paper wafted out. I looked at the nubs of crayons: fat crayons, skinny crayons, crayons with the paper torn down, melted crayons.  It was a box of old crayons--really old crayons.  They were just crayons, right?  But, I felt so stupid, sitting their staring at those crayon pieces, feeling teary and unable to bring myself to throw away a mere piece of crayon that had so long been bumping around inside that box that it looked black, even though it clearly said "blue-violet" on the side of it.  I remembered that crayon.  I remember coloring in my grandfather's wood-paneled, book-filled den where the crayons were kept on the bottom shelf of the bookshelf.  I remember being fooled by that blue-violet crayon many, many times as a child; thinking it was black when it was really purple. Over time, I got wise to that box of crayons and always closely inspected them and tested them before defiling my page of coloring with them. 

With memories swirling around in my head, I slowly drug my fingers through the box of crayons, thinking how ridiculous it was that I could care so much about a bunch of stupid wax when I noticed something: the font on these crayons was great.  Stark, clear, strong.  And there was something else.  They had the words: "CRAYOLA, Binney & Smith Inc. New York" written on all of them.   I checked our box of newer crayons and they simply said "Crayola.com".   Lame.  My grandma's crayons are old, people.  I don't know how old, but they are the same ones I was using 25 years ago at least...probably longer.  I don't know how she did it, but my grandmother must have bought crayons once and they just lasted forever.  There are crayon colors in that tin that Crayola has since discontinued.  I don't know if these crayons have any monetary value, but that doesn't really matter to me.  I just... couldn't be practical with these crayons from my childhood, so I didn't combine them with our other crayons.  I took out a few crayons that were from Kmart, but other than that, I just put the lid back on and sat staring for a while longer.  Sometimes I hate how time keeps marching on like a terrible drill sergeant and you can't go back.  But there's something nice about having a box of stupid old wax to remind you of precious time gone by...

Caiden Writes a Birthday Note

I'm starting think that Caiden might be slightly introverted.  She has a hard time with big groups of kids. If a party is going on with lots of kids, Caiden will want to go, but when we get there she will usually just hang back and chill on the sidelines with me.  So when she was invited to celebrate her friend's birthday just one-on-one, she was very excited!  I think that Caiden felt like her friend did this just for her.

I was pretty impressed with how Caiden was able to express and communicate her thoughts and feelings in this birthday message for her friend. It is always a treat to get little glimpses, like this, into her soul.  And I love how she uses words like 'excellent', 'peaceful', and 'queen':

"How did you know I like birthday parties peaceful and not scary?"

And those last few sentences read:

"I think you are as beautiful as a little special queen.  You're excellent at pretending you are a baby."

Caiden has always been a little spark of laughter and fun around here; and I was totally laughing, today, when I got to see more of who Caiden is when I read this...  Love.

A Shockingly Positive Kiting Experience

As a general rule, I don't enjoy flying kites (as I have ranted about before).  But Monday was an exception.  Since the weekend for our "pastoral" family doesn't really start until after Sunday, we like to set Monday aside as our "family day."

The kids love saying "family day."  They say it all the time...: "Oh, its family day!"  "Maybe we could do this on family day." "Yah, and we'll watch a movie together on family day!" "Is today family day??"  I think Elliott and Caiden keep "family day" alive by the sheer force of their claim to ownership and excitement over it.  Otherwise, I might just tend toward forgetting all about it and letting it meld into every other day of the week.

For the last few weeks, on family day, David has been suggested things like kite flying, going to the park, and other things I'm not naturally inclined to do.  But somehow those innocent suggestions, consistent over time, have served to brainwash me into actually considering them as real (and maybe fun?) options for family activities.  I'm a kite and a park grinch, clearly.

But this Monday, I actually suggested the kite park myself (little pat on the back)... And David played it cool, as if this was something I normally suggest and never veto.  Only later did he confess his complete, but concealed, shock at hearing me suggest it.

I hate to say it, but we actually had a really nice time setting up kites and flying them, enjoying the stunning beauty of the San Francisco Bay, and making it to the end of the extraordinarily long pier in the Berkeley Marina.

One thing that helps make kite flying more enjoyable for me is an upgraded string-lett-er-out-er; the kind that unwinds itself as the kite picks up wind.  It just spins and spins; no need to manually unwind as the stupid string gets caught at each rotation...

The kids also really enjoyed the tall grasses they found in the marina.  After they tired of holding the dumb kite string, Elliott said, "Can we go play in that cool grass?"

Dave and I packed up the kites and when we went to find them, Elliott was completely camouflaged in the grass like a little lion.

Its so fun to see my kids enjoy one of my secret loves: the golden grass of summer.  It reminds me of my early childhood in Kansas.

 

In summary, I think its all about the attitude you adopt when approaching an activity.  On that day, mine was set toward positive and willing and for that I'm thankful.  Its much easier to enjoy family that way.

Best Breakfast Bread in Bed

After two miserable, hectic weeks leading up to the end of the school year, I started off the first day of summer vacation with breakfast in bed... Not for my kids, but for me!  Caiden came in this morning with a menu and told me to place an order.  I obliged.

My choices were: "Milk with cereal!  Water.  A toast.  A glass of milk.  Chocolate milk."  It was pretty adorable; how could I say no?  I decided to ignore the disquieting thought of crumbs in my bed.  I chose not to worry about whether she knew how to make toast or if she could pour the milk.  I threw caution to the wind and ordered toast (with butter) and a glass of milk!

Sure enough, a few minutes later, a table was laid beside my bed and 'voila!' breakfast in bed: a mug of milk and a toast with a little dab of butter only in the center.  After waking up grumpy, that piece of toast and warm 5-year-old smile really gave me new life.  She was so proud and happy.  It was the cutest thing.

That was the first time Caiden has ever made toast.  She then proceeded to take David's order and then Elliott's.  She is officially a toast making pro!

I've never even made her breakfast in bed... I better get on that!

Happy summer vacation!

Caiden's First Sleepover in Which She Doesn't Sleep Over

Caiden got invited to her first sleepover last weekend.  The invitation stated that it was a "pink party" and that the guests should wear or bring their pink pajamas.  Since Caiden wasn't going to actually spend the night, she donned her pink pajamas before arriving.  We were surprised to realize she had out-grown her pink slippers, so we put those ballerina slippers to use yet again.

Caiden kind of reminds me of a hermit crab sometimes: hard to coax out of its shell, un-willing to leave its own home for another.  Or maybe more like a clam: shut tight!  So, I was a bit surprised at how excited and insistent she was about the whole "sleepover" thing.  

She seemed so grown up, going to a party without her brother.  The two of them haven't done much independently from each other...

As planned, my little sea mussel clung to me like, well, a sea mussel pretty much the whole time.  She ate some food, used some puffy paint, watched her friends play, and came home with me towards the end of the night.  And she made sure to grab a little extra goodies for Elliott who had been left behind.