Spending my life savings at the Scholastic Book Fair

Posted on November 19, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

The Scholastic Book Fair. I thought I must’ve already posted about it at some point, but after a not-so-thorough search of my blog, it appears I haven’t.

It has taken five years of overpriced, fluffy, animal-faced journals for me to reach a breaking point.

Multiple times a year the Scholastic book fair has arrived at BB’s school.

The first year I sent BB with $20. Apparently that was enough for 1.5 books. Or toys disguised as books.

The next time I sent her with $30. It’s hard to remember, but I’m pretty sure she came home with no books.

The next time I gave her $40 and said,

“You can buy one non-book item and the rest must be for books. You should also buy a book for your classroom.”

BB came home with two books and another furry journal to join our animal, notebook family. They’re all still waiting for someone to write in them.

BB would try to tell you that she needs the matching fluffy pen for $7.99.

Now it’s RB’s turn. I can’t remember if BB had the Scholastic Book Fair in kindergarten. Those were odd, end of COVID days. But either way, it was not a memorable moment.

This week I gave RB $30 and told her she could buy one non-book item and the rest should be for books.

RB is renowned for making terrible choices, so really it’s on me for giving her $30 and expecting a decent outcome.

Months ago I found nail polish painted all over the downstairs bathroom sink. I took away all of RB’s nail polish. She was unbothered. Warning sign NUMERO UNO.

Meanwhile if I take anything away from BB she’s heartbroken, never mind that she wouldn’t in a million years do something she knows she’s not supposed to do.

So imagine my surprise when I asked RB about the odd sparkly stuff in her doll’s hair.

She looked at me. I asked again,

“What did you put in your doll’s hair?!”

“Nail polish.”

“NAIL POLISH?!?!!”

“Yeah.”

“I thought I took away all of your nail polish?!!!”

“I still had some in my room.”

Shame on me for letting this happen again!

I may now have eliminated RB’s access to nail polish, but only time will tell, because you sure as heck can’t take her word for it.

This Monday I gave RB $30 and off she went. I gave BB $40 so she could also buy a book for her classroom.

I did not give that additional $10 to RB because that was one too many instructions for someone who’s not prone to following any instructions.

BB, not happy with $40, tried to make the case for more money, she said,

“So-and-so gets $100.”

“REALLY?!?”

“Yes.”

That’s a lot of stuffy journals. I stood my ground,

“You can have $30 or $40. Or add your own money.”

Guess what amount she went with.

Meanwhile RB came home very pleased with herself. The good news is that she stretched the $30 a lot further than I’ve seen BB do. She got five books! Only problem is two of them are chapter books with no pictures and one is a board book with a total of ten words.

I’d still say this was a win if she were happy with them. She ran to the couch excited to “read” and yelled out in anger,

“THIS BOOK HAS NO PICTURES!!!”

Good grief! She rushed around, picked books because she liked their covers, and didn’t even bother to look inside.

If anyone needs a Bluey board book, let me know. It does have pictures and is a quick read.

T-minus two days til school! Let the magic begin

Posted on August 31, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

Final days of summer vacation are upon us.

I’m ready.

RB is ready.

BB is ready.

Captain is ready.

Could we have handled more beach?

Always.

Could I have handled more sibling fighting without having a psychotic break? We’ll never know.

BB is very excited for 4th grade and RB is OVER THE MOON to start kindergarten.

My BABY is starting kindergarten! Cue wailing, sobbing me for one second until my children resume destroying each other and I forget how to feel nostalgic.

RB is almost 6, so really I lucked out with an extra year with her. She is still very munchable.

Socially she’s beyond ready to go. Writing her name is another story. BB is bound and determined to “prepare” her.

From the backseat of the car I hear BB say,

“What is five times two?”

GOOD GRIEF! The kid can barely tell the difference between a letter and a number. Never mind write her name and now we’re working on multiplication?

They’re happy and I’m loathe to get involved if they’re happy, but they can become unhappy very quickly, so it’s tempting to preempt it if possible. I pipe up,

“I think they work on basic addition and subtraction in kindergarten.”

BB groans,

“Yes, but she knows this, we’ve worked on it before.”

I can’t decide if RB having a 9-year-old teacher is helpful or not.

RB adds,

“I’m learning to read!”

BB says,

“That’s right! What words have I taught you?”

“Potion, broomstick, magic and teacup!”

All the most useful kindergarten sight words.

Meanwhile I’m getting ready to leave for Italy in a couple weeks, getting our ski equipment sorted out and also trying to nail down our long weekend in NYC for RB’s 6th birthday.

I ask RB,

“What would you like for your birthday dinner in NYC?”

“Cereal!!!”

“Cereal?”

“Or mac n cheese from Añejo or french fries.”

Añejo is a fabulous Mexican restaurant, with a delicious homemade queso mac n cheese, ON CAPE COD.

I google “best french fries in NYC.”

One result is described as:

“Classic fries done right—potato-forward and refined.”

Potato-forward is what I’m looking for! Refined is questionable. One dinner option reserved.

I will save the ski equipment journey for another post and hopefully I’ll talk to you again before I leave for Sardinia.

As I snuggled RB on the couch the other morning before soccer, I squished her very squishable legs and asked,

“Are these legs ready for soccer?”

“They’re ready to charge!”

“They’re ready to charge?!!”

“Like an angry hippo!”

I don’t think this will be my facial expression

Bye preschool!!! Can I still pop by for drop off and pick up just to chat with my favorite people?

Posted on June 26, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

Everyday last week I was crying or on the verge of crying. My baby graduated from pre-k. We said goodbye to our beloved preschool where I’ve been taking both of our babies for six years.

All I have to do is look at a piece of art work and tears come to my eyes. And there is so much art work.

Although there’s one piece of art work that does NOT bring tears to my eyes:

Hard to say what Captain has done to edge me out for this win, but if it’s lifting up legos, I’d like to point out I’m also very capable of that. I have lifted many a lego.

The cut off for kindergarten is September 1st. RB is a fall birthday so she’s well on her way to 6. She would’ve gotten on the bus a year ago if someone had let her.

Last year the alphabet and her name were still very mysterious, so it was nice to make some progress there.

RB is ready. I’m ready. IT’S JUST SO NOSTALGIC!

After six years at this wonderful school, I feel a little beside myself. My baby is not a baby and I said goodbye to some of our favorite people.

When RB started, she was two and still in pull-ups. Now she thinks she’s ready for high school.

Meanwhile BB just finished her best year yet and got teary when she needed to say goodbye to her amazing teacher. Yes, I may have gotten a little teary too. It was A WEEK.

I don’t remember having any tears on the last day of school when I was 8. I just remember pure peace-out energy. So that’s a testament to her 3rd grade teacher!

The sweet, emotional tears are over and we’ve moved onto the banshee cries of the wronged sibling.

I’m not sure what this summer will bring. We’re functioning on a week to week basis. We’ve decamped for the Cape, but have already been back home twice. I haven’t booked any summer camps, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. We’re going sailing, but only if my kids can agree to not tear each other apart.

BB says,

“I need my alone time.”

RB follows her around for the next hour.

They both whine and complain.

I say,

“BEDTIME!”

BB says,

“Can we have a sleepover?”

“Really? You just spent the last hour trying to get away from your sister.”

“I know. I still want a sleepover with her.”

Three hours later everyone is asleep.

I’ve instituted a No-Tattling Policy. It really seems to have helped. But ask me again in August.

And as teary as I am about my babies growing up, it’ll be a beautiful thing to put both kiddos on the 8am bus in September.

Until then, Happy Summer!!!

What is going on with that leg? Is that a high-school leg?

That’s my beach bag on the kitchen table. This is how I solved the never-ending conundrum of “SHE’S LOOKING AT ME!!!”

Bye magical, outdoor classroom at preschool 🥹😭😭

No more masks! And more from BB’s version of events

Posted on February 9, 2022 by Good Times with Jess

Bye bye masks! It would feel good to burn them all, but BB still needs them for the bus and it’s not my style to get rid of something I might need in the future. Just ask my over-stuffed house.

I’m relieved for BB. It’s tough going wandering around with a mask and fogged up glasses. Last year, a week after her ophthalmologist appointment, her pre-k teacher mentions,

“I’m worried she’s having a hard time seeing. How are her glasses?”

Great as far as I know. I ask BB,

“Are you having a hard time seeing?”

“My glasses were fogged up.”

Now she wipes them, but a year ago I think she may have just sat there and waited it out.

And now there is no daily feedback from her teacher. I’m left to sift through BB’s version of events in an often futile effort to discover the truth.

The other night BB was telling a very long winded, detailed version, of that day’s recess. It bordered on fantastical. She finished with,

“Then So-and-so grabbed snowflakes from the air, made a snowball and was about to throw it at So-and-so, but I stepped in between and blocked it.”

“I thought you had indoor recess today.”

“Oh yeah, we did. This was back in the fall.”

The next morning she prances to breakfast in a tutu. She tells me,

“Mr. L. told us to wear tutus today.”

“Your gym teacher told everyone to wear a tutu?”

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

And BB may be introverted, but it’s good to know she feels very comfortable giving her teacher a piece of her mind.

At the beginning of the year her teacher called on her to answer a question, to which BB replied,

“Oh no Mrs. C. I wasn’t raising my hand.”

Then last week BB came home and told me,

“Mrs. C. told me to practice my lower case letters.”

“Ok.”

“I told her I don’t have time for that.”

I told Mrs. C. it turns out we do have time for that.

Then in passing BB mentions that math is hard. A little alarm bell goes off in my head. I ask,

“What’s hard about it?”

“I lose my breath saying all those numbers.”

Good to know.

And this was from awhile ago, but it may be one of my all-time favorites. BB and her class were learning the song “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee.” BB informs me,

“It’s in old English and it always makes me want cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes?!?”

“Yeah you know… My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee ICING!”

Now I want a cupcake too.

Magically I’ve got a kindergartener! It’s long, but sweet

Posted on September 6, 2021 by Good Times with Jess

Kindergarten check! BB is on cloud nine. Fishy Wishy is ready to repeat pre-k and I’m looking for my sanity. It’s gotta be around here somewhere.

Back in June when Flippy first came home, before we even had time to rename him, I was already thinking to myself,

‘It would be amazing if I manage to keep him alive. Then at the end of the summer I could send the text message, “When’s Flippy’s first day of school?”‘

A week ago I got to send that message. It felt as good as I imagined. I got a message back reassuring me that if we’d grown attached, we could keep him.

No. No. And no. At that point BB was running around in RB’s diapers and I just couldn’t handle wondering if Flippy was depressed or if this was the morning I’d find him belly up.

At the Cape there was talk of setting him free, never mind that he’s a fresh water fish. My beach buddy pointed out,

“Oh no, you can’t do that, he’d be like ‘Where are my flakes?'”

If Flippy doesn’t make it through his second year of pre-k, it won’t be on my watch. I’ve had about all I can do to keep track of the kindergarten schedule.

First there was the playground playdate and practice bus ride. There were 80 kids on the playground and BB went to the swings 100 feet away, all by herself.

I had promised myself ahead of time that I’d follow BB’s lead and not push too hard on the being around other people thing.

Then lo and behold, BB returned from her solitary swinging and suggested we go find some kids in her class. I spotted one standing with her parents. Worth a shot.

There must’ve been some magical, unicorn, fairy, kindergarten dust in the air. The girls took off around the playground. A little while later we lined up for the practice bus ride. BB’s new friend asked,

“Do you want to sit together?”

At which point BB held out her hand. They boarded arm in arm and while I had expected to get teary eyed when BB left for her official first day, I did NOT expect to cry for the PRACTICE bus ride. But I did.

BB had an amazing time. The behavior at home continued to deteriorate. Captain was at a loss. He kept saying,

“What is going on?”

“Kindergarten is starting soon.”

“Right but-“

“No that’s it. I guarantee it.”

I mean I didn’t know for sure sure, but it sure seemed unlikely she’d go to school in her baby sister’s diapers. We just had to get through 5 more days of reverse potty training.

BB threw multiple tantrums because she wanted to pee in the diaper, but couldn’t. And not that I said she couldn’t, just that she’s so used to going in a toilet, or outside, that she couldn’t relax enough to go in the diaper. It took her a few days, but by T-minus 3 days until kindergarten she was peeing in diapers again.

BB went for a school tour joined at the hip with her new friend. Then there was a 2-hour, drop-off, practice day. The class was divided in half by the alphabet. There must’ve been more of that magical kindergarten dust, because BB and her new friend’s last names fell into the same group.

Getting emotional over the practice bus ride should’ve been a warning to me, but I approached the practice day as if I’m not someone who can cry over a Budweiser commercial. BB’s kindergarten teacher held out her hand to introduce herself and I started to cry.

I made sure BB didn’t see. She waved goodbye and trotted off.

She may be a clone of Captain, but the one expression of my genetics might be BB’s adventuresomeness.

Two hours later I return and learn that not only did BB have a wonderful time, but she used the bathroom. And for someone who spent a large part of the summer refusing to use public restrooms, peeing outside and most recently returning to diapers. This was a very, very good sign.

Then the real deal. The first day of kindergarten. The only day I thought I’d actually cry. BB was super excited, then a little quiet. I was so focused on the logistics, and taking photos, that the tears barely came.

8:10am. How is it possible that I won’t know anything until she gets off the bus at 3:30pm?

Preschool would’ve texted a photo by 8:12am. I check my phone. I remind myself that if BB decides not to talk, she has all of her identifying info pinned to the front of her dress.

I check my phone again. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but I check my phone again. And again. The next 7 hours would’ve been a variation of this same theme if it weren’t for my amazing neighbor throwing a “First Day of School, MOMosa brunch.”

It saved my sanity. And magically, however many mimosas later, it was time to welcome home my kindergartener.

Captain and I hovered on the corner. I obsessively refreshed the bus tracking app. It was making very slow progress. At least ten minutes late. As it appeared on the horizon, I stood camera ready, then the bus knocked over a neighbor’s basketball pole.

Keep driving! Where’s my baby? The driver stops, gets out, assesses the damage, decides to drive the remaining block to us.

BB bounces off the bus. She couldn’t be in a better mood. She’s full of stories and tales of eating vegetables at lunch. A unicorn of a day.

What a relief. I offer her help with something, I can’t even remember what and she rolls her eyes at me,

“Mom, I’m not a baby.”