Category: family

Another item in the list of things that the Remys don’t have in their house: a bathroom scale. A few months ago (maybe even a year ago?), John tossed out our scale. It gave completely unpredictable readings. Like how could you really have gained 10 lbs as you brushed your teeth?

It’s weird not to have a scale. I really don’t know how I’m doing weight-wise except by how my clothes fit. I can’t tell if my more regular workout schedule is impacting my weight. It’s all a mystery.

But there’s something quite liberating about not having a scale. I can eat 5 cookies and realize that I won’t be weighing myself later to see if and how they’ve added to my hips. Hmmmm…this brings an added sense of freedom but also an added weight of accountability.

What about you? Can you imagine life without a scale?

Well, GameBoy attended his first school dance on Friday (it was a pretty casual affair–just two hours of fun and music after school let out). Though he told me that the boys don’t really dance, they play ping-pong and foosball in the multi-purpose room to pass the time, when I picked him up from the dance he told me he had really danced. Just a few songs. With a group of friends. Of course I couldn’t help but thinking of my little dancing boy, the one who could really get a groove on–usually wearing only winnie-the-pooh underpants, his tap shoes, and a cowboy hat–well I imagine that his dancing was a bit more subdued at this event, but it still pleases me to know that my son is growing up and having such novel experiences.

When he was getting out of the car when we got home, he told me his legs were really sore:

“Because I didn’t sit down the whole time, Mom…I was socializing.”

I thought of my own years at such dances: the awkwardness, the many return trips to the punch & cookies table, ridiculous party decorations to make the school gym look ‘festive,’ the thrill of heading out to the dance floor and the accompanying fear that I would make a fool of myself as I danced, and desperately ensuring that I was surrounded by friends–the constant vigilance to make sure I was never alone and looking like a wallflower. And, yes, the familiar ache in my legs afterwards. From so many hours on my feet.

After he got home from the dance he let us know that he had an 8 pm appointment to play World of Warcraft with a buddy.

I think my baby boy is growing up and getting a social life.

FYI for my regular blogreaders: CatGirl and GameBoy are the new aliases of the pilgrimkids formerly known as E & C. :)

Not much else to say except that THE GRADES ARE IN (thus, summer teaching responsibilities are officially over). Meaning, that I now have 1.2 days of summer left to enjoy before school starts again. woohoo.

Junior high school registration was this morning. Unfortunately, late last night I realized that school pictures would also be this morning. Oops–I’d let C grow his hair out all summer long. As a result, in the past month his hair had developed a mind of its own–standing up each morning in a tangled mass and demanding mini-wheats for breakfast because that’s what the unruly hair beast likes best. I had to do something so he wouldn’t experience a lifetime of embarrassment over his 7th-grade yearbook photo! (I can just see it now–he’s won the Nobel Prize and just as he steps up to the podium to receive his award, someone flashes his jr high photo on the screen over his head and the audience recoils with laughter)
Flashback to when C was a baby: despite the fact that he only had 4 strands of hair on his egg-shaped head, those 4 strands would invariably lie in a tangled knot on the top of his crown every morning. It’s an innate gift, I think. Hmmm…it must come from John’s side of the genepool.

So I got up early (ok, early for summer, which meant about 8), got the clippers and took C out to the back porch for a super-fast super-cut. It took about 15 minutes and it turned out pretty well. So well, in fact, that all the long-haired girls wearing micromini skirts seemed to recognize C just fine, looking super-cool as he showed the babes the right way to spin the dial on their new combination locks.
Note: why is it that every single girl seemed to be wearing the exact same skirt and skin-tight T-shirt?

C got his schedule, PE uniform, and his student ID card, while I signed 57 forms and wrote out just about as many checks. C opted not to upgrade his ID to an “ASB Card” by paying for all the school dances ahead of time. When I queried him about the dances, he wrinkled up his nose, peered over his glasses and sighed deeply, imparting the wisdom of the ages in this brief statement:

“I’ll do the pay-at-the-door option if I decide I want to go to any of the dances, Mom.”