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 🥹😭😭

And so we beach

Posted on June 13, 2024 by Good Times with Jess

It’s the final days of school and countdown to beach camp.

My two campers are ready. We’re stocked up on sunscreen, bathing suits and snacks. We’ve added a sloth float to our pile of beach gear because that’s both of my children’s favorite animal.

BB has long loved the sloth for whatever usual reasons people pick favorite animals. Then in the car the other day RB told me,

“The sloth is my favorite animal.”

“Really?? Since when?”

“Since it was BB’s favorite.”

Right.

In 2025 we’re headed to the Galapagos. This has been a bucket-list trip for me since elementary school when they showed us the underwater robots exploring there.

Fifteen years ago as I roamed around South America I counted my dollars. I could travel South America for four months or I could use the same money for one week in the Galapagos.

I chose four months, but held out hope that someday I’d be back. And as we continue to destroy our planet, it seems like the sooner the better for this trip.

It will be in honor of Captain and my ten-year-wedding anniversary. Yes we’re bringing the kids.

There are no sloths in the Galapagos, but there ARE sloths in the Ecuadorian rainforest. I hadn’t planned on going there in addition to the Galapagos, but considering we’ll only be a few hours away when we fly in to Quito I contemplated it. I asked our Ecuadorian travel agent. She told me,

“I’ve been working in tourism and visiting the rainforest for ten years. I have only ever seen a sloth in the wild once.”

Ok. Nix that. Maybe my children would like to consider blue footed boobies as their new favorite animal. I’m sure there’s a corresponding beach float.

RB has an extra week of school that BB doesn’t have. The same thing happened last year and I pulled RB out early to get to the beach. As much as I want to be in my lounge chair with a book, I’m having a hard time figuring out why I would miss out on several days of RB being in school.

Once BOTH kids are out of school, I’ll be in my lounge chair, with my book, counting the paragraphs before they start World War III.

No matter what we do, they will find something to fight about. But the total and complete hopelessness of it was brought home to me a couple weeks ago.

We were at a playground covered with standard-issue wood chips. Thousands and thousands of wood chips. Not as many as grains of sand on the beach, but close enough.

I was head down in my book. I heard some screeching. I kept my head down. The shouting escalated. I peered over the top of my book. Then a blood-curdling yell from one of my beloved children.

I called them over. BB thrust her hand at me. In her palm was one of the MANY wood chips. RB whined,

“BB won’t share her wood chip!”

I looked at BB. She shrugged.

I told RB,

“Go find another wood chip.”

“NOOOOOO I want THAT one.”

I asked BB,

“Can you share that wood chip?”

“But I’m the one who found the most perfect wood chip.”

Of course.

All BB would have to do is declare any other one of the thousands of wood chips “the most perfect wood chip” and RB would want that one. But how to telepathically relay this?

I tell them,

“You have one more chance to figure this out.”

You don’t need me to tell you they did NOT figure it out. I took the wood chip and put it in my pocket. They both lost their minds.

I told them,

“We can leave or you can go play.”

They went to play.

If you’re wondering what happened to “the most perfect wood chip” that everyone forgot about. It is well laundered and living its best life indistinguishable from all the other treasures in my yard.

Here’s to finding the most perfect grain of sand and keeping it all for myself.

I’m ready to beach. May the best person win.