The boys have fallen hard for James Bond: Doug received a set of all the movies for Christmas, and we've been watching them in order. (We just wrapped up the Roger Moore years, and we're bracing for Timothy Dalton.)
So for Calvin's party, we blended his fascination with 007 and our longstanding promise to let him have Nerf guns once he turned 10. The result was a ridiculously fun party two weekends ago.
As the boys arrived, they took turns navigating the laser trip wire maze Doug set up in the hallway and sampled sugar cane (a rare treat from the farmer's market for Calvin).
Then we walked to the school yard down the street, handed each kid a Nerf gun, and dished out ammo. They spent a solid hour blasting away at each other and taking hostages — no fighting and no tears, and only Finn came out bloodied (not that he noticed or cared).
Back home, Calvin's friends toasted the birthday boy and devoured pizza, profiteroles, and a Bond cake topped with sparking dynamite candles. They knocked back many cups of root beer (another milestone: first time I had a group of boys in my house chanting "chug! chug! chug!").
They all stayed on to watch Thunderball. Most of the boys hadn't seen any old Bond movies: They had no idea what was happening and talked through much of it, to Calvin's irritation, but they had enjoyed themselves. Everyone went home happy, Nerf gun in hand.
I've found boy energy overwhelming at parties in the past, but this was perfect: We let them run wild, and they had a blast. It was a great group of kids, polite and considerate even in the midst of competitive burping and fart jokes.
With four people snapping photos during our two-week vacation, I have nearly 2,500 photos to sift through. I'm working on it, slowly, and will post a few as I go along.
Today, however, I'm focusing on this beautiful, silly, smart boy, who celebrated much of his 10th birthday in transit. We left Paris early on his birthday and flew to Barcelona. He was so excited to be in another new country that he requested McDonald's for lunch, then happily played video games in the hotel room while Doug worked through the afternoon.
Once Doug had fulfilled his work obligations, we headed toward Port Olímpic and the Mediterranean Sea, searching for Icebarcelona. For his 10th birthday, Calvin wanted to go to a bar! An ice bar, specifically: It's a small room with chairs, bars, everything made of ice, and kept at a brisk 6 degrees F. Calvin wore the provided coat over his own parka and sipped juice from a glass of ice. Fun, but so, so cold!
Back to the hotel, where Calvin and Finn happily played Xbox games with a new friend from London while we waited for a late dinner.
By the time we got to birthday cheesecake and candles, the birthday boy had collapsed, asleep, on his chair.
He woke up just long enough to blow out the candles, then went right back to sleep.
The cheesecake wasn't so tasty the following day. (Doug and I didn't let the ice cream go to waste.)
A few days earlier, in Paris, Doug and I introduced the boys to Kevin, the photographer who had taken such lovely photos for us two years previous. The kids were harder to photograph — such a blur of movement! — but Kevin captured this shot of Calvin that I just love. It shows his sweet and sensitive side, with a hint of mischief in his smile. And look how handsome!
We're already 2 1/2 weeks into the school year — I'm not sure how that happened, but it's going well so far.
Finn has a few friends from last year in his first grade class, and so far he likes his teacher. He says it's been all review and he hasn't learned anything yet, but he is figuring out how to read a clock. I suspect there's more new stuff lodging in his brain, but we'll wait to see.
Calvin is in a combination 4th & 5th grade class — our school is growing fast and using every available space, and they have several combo classes just to manage it all. He really likes his teacher: He reports that she's funny, and she likes using technology in the classroom. She also prefers projects to worksheets, and the lighter homework load pleases him very much.
He's especially excited his classroom has an iPad for each student. And he's very happy with this pouch he stitched together in class:
Finn is very excited tonight: With a little help from Doug, Finn's loose front tooth finally came out.
It's the third tooth he's lost, but as he pointed out in a note to the Tooth Fairy, it's the first one he hasn't swallowed. He's hoping he'll get to keep it and that T.F. will give him extra cash for it.
I'm sure she'll consider his request, provided he ever gets to sleep tonight. He's happily examining his tooth instead of going to sleep.
Finn lost his first tooth! And we mean really, really lost it.
He discovered it was loose the day before his 6th birthday, and for days it hung on, barely. We gave him apples and chewy pizza crust. We offered to pull it out. He poked at it himself. Nothing.
Last night I asked to see it — and it was gone.
No, Finn said, see, it's still wiggly!
Nope, the one next to it is wiggly. But his first tooth disappeared. Upon reflection, he thinks he washed it down with some orange juice Saturday morning. He's able to laugh about it.
So Finn clipped a tiny, life-size bit of paper to represent the lost tooth and tucked it carefully in his new tooth fairy bag and slipped it under his pillow.
And today he's the proud owner of a shiny Sacajawea coin. (He promptly lost that too, but I think it will be easier to find than the tooth.)
You’re so eager to be 6, you don’t realize what a momentous year 5 has been for you. It was a year of giant firsts: kindergarten, Little League, soccer, learning to read, finally figuring out how to pronounce “r”... You’re ready to plow ahead, and I’m trying so hard to let you go.
To be fair, I’m not alone in wanting to hold onto my little boy. You love being cute and adorable, and you assure me I should be able to carry you in my arms a little longer. Not surprisingly, you both relish and resent your position as the youngest in the family. You take the restrictions in stride — you don’t mind waiting for certain privileges, like bigger-kid movies — but you hate being treated as the littlest one. Almost as much as you hate “girl colors” and “girl toys.”
It doesn’t matter that the other two boys in the family like pink. You seem set on proving your boyness. Your passions are mostly “boy stuff”:
Ninjago Legos
Star Wars
Avengers
baseball and football
toy vehicles
paper planes
play fighting (An aside: First thing I’m doing after you go to school today is to call the dentist about fixing Calvin’s tooth, which you broke while roughhousing a few days ago. Let's dial it back a bit, OK?)
costumes
dancing to “Gangnam Style”
Some of your many guises: Day of the Dead, Psy in "Gangnam Style," an Ohlone Indian, the Big Bad Wolf,
Boba Fett, silly swim goggles, Talk Like a Pirate Day, and a knight
A few months ago, you told me, "Sometimes when I'm sleeping I think about girls, but then I say 'Transformers!' and I think about Transformers. And then sometimes I think about girls and Transformers."
If that’s not a boy thing, I don’t know what is.
at the Smitshonian
But you have your heart-meltingly sweet side, too. Last February, as I tucked you into bed, I asked you what had been the most awesome thing that day.
“The most awesome thing today was you, Mommy!”
Oh, I wish!
We’ve seen your more temperamental, moody side since full-day kindergarten began, but we understand. It takes a lot of effort to keep yourself together for a long school day and then come home and deal with a big brother and a hovering mom, and it’s frustrating. You’re so often in high spirits, we can’t begrudge you some crankiness.
Your best friend, no matter how much you argue
Daddy and I so proud of you, and the kind of person you’re growing up to be. You’re open to new experiences, and when you hesitate you usually provide a well-considered reason. You speak your mind clearly and thoughtfully, and you draw connections in a way that often takes us by surprise. You work through your emotions and come out the other side better for it. You’d be surprised how often I remind myself to do as you do.
We’re especially impressed with how hard you work to learn and understand your world. You’ve always had trouble articulating “r,” but when your teacher gently corrected you and encouraged you to try it, suddenly you were showing off how you could say “13” and “30” as if you had a British accent.
Toasting marshmallows with Aunt Cheryl
When you entered kindergarten, you knew only two or three letter sounds and couldn’t read much beyond your name and Calvin’s. Reading wasn’t a priority in preschool, but you buckled down with Mrs. R, and within a few months mastered all your letter sounds and made such big strides you were in the advanced reading group. That sounds braggy, but please know Daddy and I don’t care where you rank or how well you perform — just that you make the effort. And you put in tremendous effort. You never hesitate to ask when you don’t understand something. (Asking questions is a good habit to keep.)
We’re often startled when you use words we didn’t realize you knew. Like on Christmas Eve, when you were arguing aloud with your conscience, which you said was trying to talk you into staying up to midnight. “I’m totally not listening to my conscience,” you promised.
You sometimes sound so much older than you are. Before kindergarten, you were reciting the months of the year, going from January to December “and so forth.” I confess, I’ll miss the little boy who just 10 months ago thought one counts seconds using “sippy pits.”
First day of kindergarten
You’ve done so many new things this year! You earned your first Junior Ranger badge at Yellowstone, then picked up several more during our marathon cross-country road trip. You visited 25 states, and spent a deliriously fun two weeks with family in Minnesota. We went apple picking and fishing. After years on the sidelines, you finally played baseball and then tried soccer.
In September, your preschool teacher/sitter invited us to a 5K race. You tried to keep up with Daddy, but ended up running the entire race all by yourself — finishing in 32 minutes. Dang.
You've become a much stronger swimmer, despite a tragic lack of steady access to water to swim in. In Hawaii, you tried snorkeling. It was a little scary for you sometimes, but you loved searching out different types of fish and reporting which ones you found.
And finally, you have your first wiggly tooth! You just noticed it Saturday — and I know you hope it comes out on your birthday. That would be awesome.
In your happy place
Trying a strawberry guava on the trail
Other favorite memories I have from this year:
During our road trip you arrived at a hotel so tired you lay down and fell asleep outside the door, oblivious to the rain and thunder, right next to a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies provided by the reception desk.
After a few weeks of Spanish, you showed off your new words: “Te amo, padre! Te amo, madre! Te amo, hermano!”
Yellowstone entranced you. You asked to have your picture taken in front of countless wonders, and was thrilled to find a hunk of buffalo hair.
Bison hair — cool!
Every dead spider, weird bug, or curious critter you can find draws your attention. You have no qualms about picking up a half-squished beetle for a closer look.
Your love of “Gangnam Style” makes that overplayed song so much more fun. You memorized the video and practiced lip-syncing when you thought we weren’t looking. Now you happily act out the entire song for anyone who asks. You especially enjoying doing the moves with the Korean owners of the Quizno’s where we have lunch Saturdays.
Boo-Boo III was lost early this year, accidentally left in a shopping cart at Target. For months, you used a broken phone outside the coffee shop to call him in Boo-Boo Land, and talked eagerly about how wonderful it would be when Santa brought him back to you. I'll never forget the excitement Christmas morning when you found Boo-Boo in your stocking, with a letter from Mr. C.
Boo-Boo's back!
You’re a pop culture sponge. I need to keep an eye on what you watch — you love commercials more than a child your age should, even if you’re savvy to what those ads are trying to do. Dad once made a joking reference to OSU coach Mike Gundy’s infamous rant, and that led to this:
And for a few months, you amused yourself by reciting this favorite DirecTV ad:
You have a good heart, Finn, and you know what to do with it. We’ve long said, only half-jokingly, that you’re the most emotionally mature in the family. You call people on poor behavior, you’re quick to forgive, you’re willing to look for ways to defuse conflict and keep everyone happy. (Knowing how, of course, doesn’t mean you always do it. But it puts you on the right path.) And you often teach us a thing or two about how to behave, and why.
When we visited New York City this summer, we came out of the subway in Greenwich Village and passed through a small group of panhandlers. “I’m hungry! I just want some food!” one was crying. As we crossed the street, looking for the restaurant where we were soon to meet friends, Calvin asked who those people were and what they were doing. As I began to make excuses — we can’t help everyone, blah blah blah — you spoke up: “We could just give him some food.”
Daddy and I looked at each other, blinked, and headed into the nearest shop. You and Calvin returned to the subway entrance with a fruit bowl and cash, but the man was gone. We hung out in a nearby park for a little bit, then checked again: He was back.
You walked up to him, smiled, and handed him the package: “We brought you some fruit!” Calvin gave him the money. As we walked away, he cried out after you: “Thank you! Bless you!” And you turned back to say, “You’re welcome!” You and Calvin glowed with happiness.
Daddy and I learned quite a few things that day. And I suspect we’ll learn much more from you in the years to come.
Many apologies from the Holm-Hansens...we've had an outrageously busy fall, and some computer challenges. Things are falling into place now, and I'm going to get caught up sharing a burst of fall highlights over the next few days.
To get things started...we kicked fall off with the first day of school. Devon started 1st grade last month. He's off to a great start! He likes his teacher, and is in a class with a few of his good friends from kindergarten. He's doing well with the work, and is being put in an accelerated reading program. He knows an astonishing amount of Spanish. He's enjoying taking the bus to and from school one day per week, and participating in chess club after school.
Today, we dropped off two students: Finn has finally joined his big brother at school!
Finn was eager for his first day. Unlike his big brother, for whom everything was new, Finn is entering kindergarten with plenty of friends from preschool, familiarity with the campus, and even a teacher he knows well: Mrs. R, Calvin's beloved kindergarten teacher, is Finn's teacher as well. (Mom and Dad are thrilled!)
Calvin doesn't know his third-grade teacher well, but he hasn't heard any stories that made him worry (that's a relief!). He has a few friends in his class and of course many more he'll see at recess. He was a little less enthusiastic about going to school. It was difficult to pry him away from a new book, but he was finally enticed to put it down so he could open his back-to-school cone filled with markers, activity books, craft projects, and other goodies.
The transition from our summer of fun to school was quick. We got home late Monday from Kauai, and last night Calvin was still wide awake at 10:30 p.m. No one liked waking up at 7:15 a.m. this morning (and I let them sleep in a little bit). Finn prepared by tucking confetti from his teacher under his pillow, putting on his first-day-of-school clothes, and then getting in costume for who knows what:
We're proud of these guys: They learned so much this summer, and we know they'll learn much more this year. If they can be serious and stop doing silly stuff like this:
It's official: After years of joking he was old as the dirt, Doug really is. After a festive surprise party with West Coast friends, we celebrated a life being well lived by visiting friends and family on the East Coast.
Doug's mom treated him to dinner and birthday cake, and the kids — jet-lagged, overtired, but happy to have the flight behind them — burned off some energy playing baseball and exploring anthills in the yard. (A novelty: I don't know why, but we don't see many back home.)
We stopped by Doug's old high school, a sprawling campus near his home, where he made many lifelong friends:
Then it was time to go south, for an awesome day at the Boston Museum of Science, followed by a rather unexpected Red Sox victory — the boys' first visit to Fenway! It was very hot and humid, but still fun. Most of my Fenway memories involve losses and rain, so clear skies and a win were a treat.
With a game at Fenway checked off the bucket list, we wanted to steep the boys in some New England history. Aboard Mayflower II, Calvin was surprised to find the ship was so small. He liked hearing about mischievous boys who fired a musket, starting a small fire — why does it always come down to explosions?! (Thanks, guide, for adding Guy Fawkes Day to the list of holidays Calvin would like to celebrate.)
Calvin's been an avid photographer lately, experimenting with his rediscovered camera. He's looking forward to making his own photo album.
Doug marked the last night of his 30s with high school and college friends in Boston. Dan brought Pinkerton yearbooks, one featuring a sprawling note from a very teenaged Doug, and we shared stories of past and present over food and wine. We're hoping teleporting becomes a viable option soon: The two coasts are much too far apart.
Doug, Dan, Darienne, Finn, Amy, Lydia, Jenn, Jon and Calvin
For his birthday Saturday, we returned to our old stomping grounds: Jon joined us for a trip to the beach in Newport, R.I. The kids had a blast: Finally, water they could actually enjoy! Doug and Jon played football and ran around with the kids, and we left as the wind kicked up and the kids got fed up with sand in their eyes. (Travel stress caught up with them this day: To say they were a little on the cranky side is putting it very nicely.)
Megan and Walter overcame impressive challenges (car failure, packing to move) to trek out to Providence and join us for a wonderful meal at the Capital Grille.
We headed outside just in time to catch the lighting of WaterFire, an art installation in its infancy when we lived in the city 15 years ago. More than 80 bonfires are lit along three rivers downtown, with music and art and performances.
It wasn't quite as peaceful and romantic as I remembered it being — it really couldn't be with two tired kids shooting noisy, glowing bubble guns — but it was still a treat. I'm glad they do this regularly: Check it out if you can.
We didn't take in much beyond the riverfront: It had been a long day. The kids enjoyed the fires but we were ready to pack it in ... and get ready for the next day's adventures.
