Breakneck Speed

Question I was asked today:  "Seriously though, do you have ANY realistic idea of how cool your kid is?"

Gus came along, number three boy after two chubby-bubby, laid back, take it slow past due-date babies.  He came early: a tiny alien thing to us....   Small boned, curly headed and absolutely gorgeous.  He walked early, climbed early, drove early.  His sister who came four five years later was a perfect antidote....  she was late, plump and took forEVER to walk.  (Her paternal grandmother, seriously suggested that she would probably need "braces" to walk.)

At some point this kid appears to have broken his neck.  Yep. Tomorrow we will find out if it was congenital or if it is something that happened and we managed to miss.

928 31**

When I see the school's number on my caller ID I used to wonder what was going on at school that necessitated calling ME.  Now I see the number and I ask: Huh.  I wonder what GUS wants.  This year he seems to be able to pick up the phone during the day and just check in.  Yesterday it was: "Hey mom, it's Gus".  Me: "Hey Gus!  What's going on?"  Gus: "Oh.  I just wanted to tell you that I got my test back?"  (He raises his voice at the end of most sentences making himself sound so young and making each statement sound like a question.)  Me: "Oh!  How did you do?"  (I say "Oh." a lot.)  Gus: "Well.  I got 100% at a 5.5".  (I think this is Fifth Grade Math, fifth month, but I'm NOT   SURE.)  Gus: "It was a REALLY hard test with like (!) multiplication and division and EVERYTHING."  Me: "Oh that's SO great!!  Good job sweetie!!  Now you should PROBABLY go back to class and get busy, k?"  (I know perfectly well that he is calling FROM the damn classroom because I can CLEARLY hear his teacher's voice.)  Gus: "Oh.  Okay.  Bye."  And then the little fucker just HANGS up on me!

Little Peppard Boy

This was the year we brought back the tradition of making Gus get up to have breakfast with Trent commemorating the breakfast Trent had just ordered but didn't get to eat that morning 11 years ago when Gus came one month early.  Gus is not (as has been previously mentioned) a morning person.  He is often not an afternoon person and sometimes not an evening person.  He IS, however a NIGHT person.  A Night Owl.  I digress.  We woke him and he breakfasted on eggs and OJ with Dad.  He chatted and smiled.  Why?  Because Gus is our child of tradition.  He, more than any of the Peppards' loves tradition, celebration, ceremony.  He'd make a great Catholic, come to think of it....  The stickler here would be that he has decided that he just doesn't believe in God.  (Not that that's stopped many a Catholic from practicing.)  I'm breaking out the library of culturally sensitive, inclusive, child-friendly biblical figures.  He knows that everyone gets to decide what they believe and no one gets to tell you what you have to believe.  He also knows that not everyone has to know that he knows.  He still believes in Santa Claus. 
Again, I digress.  This boy loves celebration.  He gets it.  If there is ever an opportunity to celebrate some happening in the family... birthdays, anniversaries, dog arrival, cat birthday, (he can and will assign a date if necessary).  But there will be acknowledgement.   
He is by far our most complicated child.
Our family has more stories about Gus than about any of us.
This blog has more Gus-related stories than any of us.  (He is still a few posts ahead of slacker-CF.)
He hides nothing about his own feelings, Gus tells it like it is.  I was recently surprised to learn that he has many secrets.  We were putting Christmas stuff in the trunk of the car and I said that something was a surprise and asked if he could keep a secret.  He sighed and said (and I am not shitting you here) "Oh mom, I have SOOOOO many secrets."  What the hell am I supposed to do with THAT load?

Gus is now 11.

Gus went to the store alone

One Bag Doritos
One Box Candy Canes
Two Boxes Donuts (the kind that are shrink wrapped and have a LONG shelf-life.
One Box (I can barely bring myself to type this word) Twinkies.
Two Matchbox Cars (Dodge Chargers apparently).

(Gus and Neil are dog-sitting at Grandma and Grandpa's.)  I cannot help but picture the young Macaulay Culkin In "Home Alone" checking out food at the grocery store and being unsuccessfully interrogated by the checkout lady.

and again - Gus

One of the boys who is here a lot complained to my that "Dara?  Gus is being really, really MEAN to me... he called me a "big, fat, idiot".  These words are on the frequently ignored "Do Not Use" List (DNU).  Mikey (the victim) is feared as one of the most intimidating lineman on our football team.  He is 6'4, 250 lbs.  Gus defended his words insisting that Mikey had "flipped me off".  I record this story as a classic Gus.  We did not celebrate his outburst and he is under strict instructions to "BE  NICE  to the TEENAGERS", but it IS indicitive of a fearless kid who takes no shit from nobody.  We are actively working on Gus'
nurturing skills.

Smallest Peppard Boy

He was gone for a week.  The house was very quiet.  I can't believe I'm going to say this but it was too quiet.  No one burst in asking to "cut down a tree".  No one came upstairs ready to make brownies for breakfast first thing in the morning.  No one gave me the special-too-tight-Gus-squeeze-hug.  (It's too tight but I missed that too.)  No one slept on the floor with Drake.  No one came in soaking wet, dripping water all over my floor.  (Actually, I did NOT miss that.)  No one brought home tidbits of fascinating gossip.   (Be warned: Gus is surprisingly astute at reading body language and translating the word UNspoken.  Nothing stays hidden from this boy for long.)  No one asked me long, involved, IMPOSSIBLE to answer questions involving speeds of various cars and their ability to beat other various cars in intricate maneuvers.  No one tried to walk past me nonchalantly with a butane torch behind his back.  It was too quiet.  I am very, very, very glad that my noisiest, talkingest, dirtiest, fastest boy is home. 

Thank Jesus for Gus

My blog now contains a disconcerting number of CF- related posts (currently 28).  Thankfully Gus-related posts are currently at 31.  (And I haven't even mentioned his mohawk yet.)

negativity, annoyance, and stupidity: solutions.

When Gus got home later on the previously mentioned "most annoying day ever" I asked him how could we make his morning better.  I spoke in a calm, loving, supportive voice (I had been practicing).  He said (in his typical deadpan) (and I quote)  "well.... one thing that would work, but I don't think you are going to do it,  would be if you  feed the boys outSIDE."  He is referring to his big brothers here.  (The bane of his existence.)

negativity, annoyance, stupidity

Gus  s NOT a morning person.  Ideally, his day would start some time around 11a.m. with food and free time.  Academics would be tackled any time after 7pm and he could stay going until about midnight.   Unbelievably, our school does not offer any kind flexibility in scheduling.  This means that Gus is the fabulously, curvy, round peg and school is an extremely square, angular hole. 

I have had him sleep in Bay's room lately.  It is on the main floor so I'm not running up and down the stairs fifteen times to try to prize him out of bed in the morning and he may settle down more easily at bedtime if he is up here in the next room to mine and Trent's and not distracted by the tantalizing fact that he us unsupervised in the basement.  This morning I even gave him breakfast in bed to try to ease him into his day:

The oatmeal had too much milk in it.
His shoes were dumb.
WHEN was he getting basketball shoes?  His shoes were stupid.  Apparently this is the fault of Swain's where we bought them because it is SUCH an annoying store.  (Glad that for once it wasn't MY fault.)
Why was NEIL gettting a cheque for picture day when HE didn't get one.
The sun was so annoying when he was tying his shoes and he can't see anything.

Thank God for the school bus.  Thank God for school.  Unfortunately tomorrow is Saturday.  Wish me luck.

Gus, not 10 yet, but who's counting?

Twelve nine year olds were here today for three hours.  It feels like nine three year olds were here for 12 hours.  It was chaotic.  I am tired.  Bring back the big-appetited-teenagers.  They are much more manageable.  I'm not sure Gus is getting another birthday party.  Ever.  I don't think I can do it again.  Last year was  bad enough.  Today was crazeeee.  They were outside.  They were inside.  Some stayed outside.  Some stayed inside.  They chased chickens.  They caught chickens.  The played with the cat.  They tried to play with the cat INDOORS.  They really liked our giant Nerf Swords (Hint: Hide those next year.... oh never mind there's not going to BE a next year).  They can come back again when they are terrifyingly big, loud, hungry teenagers.  They won't make me so tired.  May post pictures.  May just try to forget the whole experience.  (Oh and those who notice these things: you are correct: it is NOT Gus' birthday until December 19th.  But puhlease.... I'm stewpid enough to try a repeat of last years party where they were inside the whole time due to the cold weather.

Spelling

Gus is a natural speller.  I'm not sure how this happened because he has only become a proficient reader in the last year.  But when given a "spelling test" where words are read out and he must write them, he is pretty amazing.  However, as soon as he actually writes anything for any other purpose his spelling goes in the toilet.  It is only Night Nine and we have already had Angry Pencil Night.  (Jesus......)

Word for the Day

Gus came home with a new word.  It's not terrible, but it has been added to the list of words he is not allowed use.  It is "moron".

Made it to Day 2

Gus said the word "annoying" three times within 20 minutes of getting home today.  Apparently the bus is "annoying"; the bus DRIVER is "annoying"; and I am "annoying".  No real vocabulary surprise here, I'm just glad that he hasn't complained about his teacher yet.  She is lovely and he SHOULD like her.

Judging a book by it's cover

This is the book that Gus chose.  I assume that no explanation is necessary.  Look at the bloody cover.

Five Days and Counting

Mrs. Curtin is leaving in five days.  We are all a bit sad (to put it mildly).  To quote Gus: it's very annoying.  I really need a photo of the two of them together, but I don't know if I'll be able to hold it together to do it.  He is reading past all expectation and is ready for third grade.  I never thought I'd be writing those words...  He actually likes going to school.  Mrs. Curtin claims that he is helpful (we believe her, sort of.  Remember, we always thought she might be crazy).  He writes me notes now; writes letters to Santa (year round); makes lists.  He's still a free thinker and a free spirit.  He asked me last week if he could go live with Mrs. Curtin and Stu (sorry Terry) if something were to happen to me and Trent.  

Just to add some balance :

Gus (on the other hand) has taken it upon himself to be the saviour of any kid who might be a "have not".  There is a side to him that is so softhearted.  I have had to make confusing statements to the generous little lad (!) like:  "GUS!  You are NOT allowed GIVE stuff away without checking with me FIRST"....   or : "GUS!!  You CAN'T give someone YOUR lunch OR PART of your lunch"....  This completely contradicts all previous rules and principles regarding generosity and sharing.  Shit.  Parenting is SO complicated.  (And Lisa : I am intentionally leaving an occasional extra "u" in here and there because I am feeling nostalgic.)

Hold that thought....

Gene is starting at Crescent on Tuesday.  Or, as I like to say... consistency and order are the keys to good parenting...  (oh  ha.  ha.  ha.)  The change of heart stemmed from a conversation with my friend Sabina (who does not read this blog) who suggested we "man up" to the decision we have so obviously already made but are afraid to execute.  So... after talking to Sabina I immediately made an appointment with the principal at Crescent (this was a trick move on my part because by setting an appointment I knew that only one result could come from the meeting).  It worked.  Crescent listened to us, asked pertinent questions, told us what they would do if Gene were in their school ... and we signed the boy up.

The ironic thing is that that very same day one year before was Gus's first day in 2nd Grade with Mrs Curtin.  That was the right move for Gus AND for us...  Neil started six months after Gus and that was the right move for Neil... and six months later I firmly believe that it is the right move for Gene.

The little boys are thrilled...  Now can I get away with taking Gene's "first day" photo as he gets on the bus with Gene and Neil on Tuesday morning??

And then Gus said....

But Trent says I can NOT post this story.  It is a classic Gus story.  It involves :
       1) Gus
       2) A much BIGGER and OLDER highschooler (not in our family)
       3) Gus reacting angrily to said highschooler (highschooler being a jerk)
and 4) A  VERY bad word.

It is sooooo funny that it is hard to not write it.  But there you have it.  I cannot do it.  But man! is it ever funny!

In the meantime... GUS TURNED NINE!

And he loves:

"his" dog Drake ♥ to read ♥  to ride his bike ♥ to climb things ♥ to get really, really wet ♥ to get really, really dirty ♥ his cat, Stitch ♥ to ask awkward questions ♥ to talk too loudly ♥ to start projects late at night ♥ to hear stories about  himself (there are MANY) ♥ his teacher ♥ going places with Trent ♥ cinnamon toast ♥