WARNING: As of next month I will put password on our blog. The password will be the name you get from first letters in our kids names.
We said goodbye to snow in style,
Then we got to that weird season that is Spring in other parts of the World, but in our little zone it is just really hot and cold at the same time. We went sugaring off, but mostly we stayed indoors.
Trevor is having fun in school this year. He said he has the best art teacher in school. He has been reading a lot. His favourite series are Jeronimo Stilton, Diary of a Wimpy Kid and the Big Nate series. He wants to build a lot of land and water robots and is trying to convince us to build a lab and helicopter landing pad on the top of our house. Here is the penny arcade he made in his Maker Jr. class:
As soon as Trev came home with the penny arcade, Owen made his own. The younger brothers do not need to make robots; they ARE the robots:
Owen is learning a lot from his older brother.
Trevor: No, no, dating is when you start going out for dinner with your girlfriend.
Owen: Oh my gosh!
Owen is working really hard to get good notes from school. That is not to say that he still does not get bad notes. However, the photocopy of the apology note he wrote shows really tidy writing and age appropriate spelling. His tree climbing and trampolining skills are equally improving. This weekend he has biked 15km two days in a row.
Here is us going for the first bike ride of the year:
The problem with Trevor riding a road bike was that the younger brothers got exhausted and then cold:
Yes, Markus is wearing my pants, hat, helmet and socks as gloves. This is because Markus is still ridiculous.
Me on another occasion: Here Markus, have some grapes with whipped cream.
Markus takes a grape, sticks it in the whipped cream and then his mouth. After he has licked the cream off the grape, he carefully takes it out and leaves it aside with some amount of disgust.
Markus: It is dirty now.
Or another time:
Markus: Mommy, do you know why I like cross-country skiing?
Me: No, why?
Markus: I don’t actually like cross-country skiing. Do you know why I like downhill skiing?
Me: No, why?
Markus: Because it is fun.
February started warm and dry. I had already begun to consider alternate plans for March break as I was not sure there would be enough snow to go skiing. It was only about the boys four day weekend (PD day on Friday and Family Day on Monday) that we got some serious cold. Lucky Trev – that was exactly when his Cubs Winter Camp was. So how do you camp at -30C? By being prepared, of course!
Such snowfall asked for two bus cancelled days in a row – the kids went to school but snow days are essentially a joke – nothing but fun in class.
This is how we get back from school when busses are cancelled.
On the following Friday we took kids out of school early and headed off to the yurt. Trevor was skiing circles around us, Owen raced and fell over over and over and over again. Markus refused to move until he saw the yurt and after he skied like it is nobody’s business.
After dinner I bring out two oranges and start pealing the first. I cut the top off and slice the peel vertically.
Markus (points at second orange): I want to eat that.
Me: Can I give you a little bit of this one? I am almost done peeling it.
Markus: No, I want the other one.
I hand him the other orange.
Markus: I want you to peel it but don’t cut its top off.
Me: Are you sure, look at this one, I have already peeled it and it is in nice slices?
Markus: No, you cut its head off. Peel the other one.
I cut and peel the next orange but it is tricky to do it without cutting the top first and there is a little bit of peel left. I give it to Markus.
Markus (as he gives me back the orange): Remove all the peel and split it into nice slices for me to eat.
I split the rest of the orange. The orange is a bit tough and the slices split in half rather than along the skin. It is still nice, juicy and delicious so I give it to Markus.
Markus: What is this?! I am not going to eat it.
He leaves and I eat both oranges as I originally intended.