I'm cool and hip, verified by a 14 year old

This is Probie.

He is our 8th grader.

While on a recent field trip, he was in charge of map reading. I can do many things while driving, but I had a co-pilot who could read, and I took full advantage of that.

However, he told me to take a wrong turn.

I said, "What happened there, huh??? You dropped the ball on that one, Probie!"

And thus his nickname was born.

We had us a BLAST on our school's big Opera Field Trip in April.

We had a sweet setup going in the car. We hooked the Things up with a DVD in the backseat, and plugged in our ipods. I knew the ride would be a good one when I saw his playlists- we listen to the same music!

That means I'm totally cool and hip, he said.

Though he also said that his Mom listens to some of the same songs, and that it was weird, and it does not make her cool or hip.

Since I got the 'cool and hip' label, I am not going to try to figure out that 14- year- old logic.

Today we celebrated our school's 8th grade graduation.
We only had one 8th grader.

Probie.
He graduated. I cried. We ate. We laughed and joked. It was a lovely event.

(I will post my crappy pictures tomorrow.)

And then a bunch of us gathered at the school for Movie Night. We watched "Bolt", which was hilarious...and I knitted! (I heard that collective gasp.)

First time I've picked up needles in a week.
I didn't count, but about half of us attended the movie in pajamas. It was that kind of night.

We are enjoying what can only be described as a monsoon. Apparently the entire Eastern seaboard is marinating in rainwater. And out here on the rock, the wind is blowing, the seas are building, and I am thanking all the Gods that I had to cancel my trip to Boston...for there is no way, NO WAY, I would get on a boat in the morning.
I know you're all peeved down there that I had to change plans.
We'll try the beginning of the week. No promises. And it will be a fly-by if it happens at all.

I know I told you all about this field trip already, but I enjoyed looking through the pictures again, and had to share.

There was swimming, eating, swimming, an opera, more swimming, more eating, a museum, and lots of laughing.

My kind of trip.

There may have been some giant spitball action, too. But I don't know anything about that.

I can tell you that Katie and Kristi are very sound sleepers. Or have diminished hearing. One or the other.

That's a root beer in the last row.

We ate a totally balanced diet while away. All health foods; lots of whole grains and water and veggies.

(Remember kids, 'what happens on field trips, stays on field trips'. Amen.)

Probie's Mom- look away!

Now, the amazing quality of this next picture can be attributed to the horrifying hour of the day those kids woke me up.

And then, adding to the punishment, we had to wait, like, forever, for The Big Guy to bring us coffee from the Double D. you know who I mean. All Hail Dunkin' Donuts!!

This is Tammy's coffee. This is not a morning coffee. I'm not sure it can even BE CALLED a coffee. What is that sludge there at the bottom??

Check out the straw he brought her to drink this with.

It's a coffee stirrer. It didn't even reach halfway into the cup. She had to wash a pen to stir it with. We are still laughing over this.

I've been married to this knucklehead for 15 years. I'm totally on to him. He figured that if he messed up the morning coffee orders, we'd relieve him of the job the rest of the trip.

Ha! We chastised and nagged him, and sent him back until he got it straight.

He said he won two wives. We're still laughing at that one, too.

Fried clams, from The Red Barn in Augusta.

Yum.

And they gave the kids this:

I hate Play-Doh.

I created the Frenchboro Preschool (with a group of like-minded women; not by myself), because of two things:

1. Play-Doh

2. scissors.

I wanted my kids to be able to play with such things. Just not in my house, or in my presence.

Thank goodness for Miss Becky, and her patience.

Both of my kids can now cut with scissors, thankyouverymuch. And only a few times did they smuggle Play-Doh home and grind it into the carpets.

"Hey, kid, whatcha got there?"

"Watch this! I'm going to drop it in the pool."

"Boys are so weird!"