The Krevanko Credo

We are:
Beavers not Ducks. Pepper not salt. Red Sox not Yankees. Crest not Colgate. Pepsi not Coke. Late nights not early mornings. Football not soccer (except now, we cheer for Callie!) Obama not McCain. Labs not purse puppies. Half full not half empty. Idaho not California. Christmas eve not Christmas morning.
We like:
Tie dye. Home made strawberry/raspberry jam. Fleece blankets.
Sunglasses. Lemonade. Orange t-shirts. Roller coasters. White towels. Baseball. Watermelon. Sunflower seeds. Bleach. Volunteering. Shave ice. "Midnight Train to Georgia." Our veranda. Slippers. Craigslist. Fireplaces. Trader Joe's. Text messaging. Chuck-It. Keens. Waffle window!
We do not:
Leave the house in a dirty shirt. Call people past 9 pm. Vote Republican. Watch WWE Raw or Hogan Knows Best. Wear shorts in November. Like being late, but sometimes we still are. Eat at taco trucks.

Meatballs???

We are using glue to stick fluffy cotton balls to a sheep shape.

S: "Teacher Tracy, why are we putting meatballs on the sheep?"

We are reading a book about weather. I point to the umbrella and ask "what is this?"

M: "A rain kite!"

The 3 year olds always make me smile!

Happy Birthday, Big Boy

24 years ago today I became a mother. A younger, thinner, less worldly version of myself, living in Miami with my husband of 18 months. It was a hot day, and I had been pregnant too long. The baby was 18 days overdue, my mother had flown in 2 weeks prior, and did I mention it was Miami???!

There are lots of stories I remember about the birth of my first child, who was supposed to be a girl. There was NO boy name...why bother??? My mom had even arrived with pink clothes and a doll! Things did not go as expected, and a BIG boy finally made his way into the world. After he was born, his dad came into my room, still a little awestruck, shocked, and giddy. He thought Derrick was a good name. I looked him straight in eye, smiled, and said "no, his name is Parker." My husband shook his head in agreement - he knew there was no arguing with a woman who had just pushed for 2 hours straight. Later on I told him that the name was suggested by my mom, who had seen it on a Cabbage Patch doll. :)

Parker has been a joy in my life since that first moment I saw him. He is the son every mother wants - kind, loving, generous, goofy. He can throw a football, hit a baseball, and scuba dive. He knows the words to all the oldies songs, but can also rap like a white guy. He never quits, even when he's beat. He loves shoes and hates doing laundry. He sucks at math, but is fascinated by government. He has a huge heart and sets a great example for his twin brother and sister to follow. I am so lucky I get to be his mom.

Happy Birthday, big boy!

Loss

The game was going well, not spectacular on either side, and the score was close. They were ahead, and it seemed that we could maybe catch them if we got a couple of good breaks. This is what every sports fan believes, prays silently for, mutters quietly under their breath. If I only believed hard enough I could will this to happen.

We score again, and are up 20-16 with just 24 seconds left. It looks promising, but 24 seconds in football can be a long time. Long enough for the other guys to punch one in if you lose your focus for a second or two.

The kick-off is good, their field position is not great and we look like we might pull this one out. There is one incomplete pass, a few seconds tick off the clock. Another incomplete pass, more seconds gone. The offense is in disarray, they spike the ball to stop the clock. Three seconds left, 4th down, and the QB throws one deep, a true "Hail Mary" as silent prayers go up all over the stadium. "Don't let him catch it." "Don't let him catch it." Skill and speed win out over prayer...he catches it in the end zone. The clock runs out. Disbelief. They win 22-20. The crown is stunned, quiet. Heads shake. How did this happen?

Loss breaks your heart, makes you cry angry tears. But then it mellows, giving way to hope.

Hope for next week, the next game, the next season...for the possibilities yet to come. Hope makes you put your uniform back on and get back in the game. Hope believes that next time things will be different.

Back To School, for all of us...

Post-its and a hole punch... must haves for organizing school stuff
Originally uploaded by aamilner

The twins started 7th grade last week. Seems unreal, since I still remember, in vivid detail, their first day of school. I dropped them off, went to the minivan and sat there, realizing I had NOTHING to do, no place in particular I needed to be, and I was without kids. So the goal became to fill that time, (and not with laundry or daytime TV) and that is how I began to have 3 first days of school every year.

My preschool classes started this week. Since I teach 3 classes, I have 3 first days. They are usually a mix of anxiety, excitement, fun, and fear. I have held parent's hands while they sobbed in the hallway - assuring them that their child would be fine if they would just leave and get on with it. I had one parent my first year who had an anxiety disorder so severe she could not leave the building after dropping her child off. I have parents who breeze in with their well adjusted children, kiss them on the cheek, and head off to the Ugly Mug for a cup of coffee. Eventually we all come together and the fear leaves and gives way to fun. That comes in early October.

I love the structure and routine that the school year brings. I hate making lunches, but I am told that school lunch "sucks". Bedtime is still wonky, but it will shake out. The routine is still a little rough at this stage, but we will be better. By October.