Stuck in Q&A Mode

In the last two weeks, I’ve written my end-of-the-year exams, my exam study guides, my last tests of the year, and my summer reading projects for the grades I’m teaching next year. (I’ll have more later on the uncharted waters my sails are set toward for the 2013/2014 school year.)

So forgive me, but since I’m in Q&A mode, having written more essay, short answer, and journal questions than any one woman should have to write in a lifetime, this post will be a series of haphazardly placed Q&As. Why break precedent, right?

Q: What do you do when you are a second grader and find a crab trying to hide in the sand at the water’s edge?

A: You repeatedly drop shells in front of it, just to make it pop out of the sand, claws extended.

IMG_5163IMG_5179IMG_5168IMG_5180You do not tire of this, even when the response becomes predicable.

Q: What would make a teacher fall and scrape up her knee during passing period while attempting to walk on a flat, dry, unobstructed surface, at an ordinary speed, to her next class?

A: If the teacher is a certain Island Mom, absolutely nothing.

100_7262One student later described Thursday’s incident as looking like I suddenly decided to sit down a minute (you know, on the floor in the middle of passing period with the teenage masses swarming around me). Yeah, that’s kind of like it felt too, except for the deciding to part. Of course, my lack of schoolmarm shoes that day probably didn’t help.

Q: What happens when a kindergartener gives an impromptu puppet show with her princess dolls?

A: You don’t actually see the puppets most of time.

IMG_5262IMG_5275But you do hear the riveting, high-pitched dialogue for the duration.  

“Do you want to dance and sing?”

“Oh, yes, please! But first, let me change my dress!”

“I think you should wear the blue one with the sparkles.”

“Oh, good idea, but I did wear that yesterday, so maybe I should try the yellow one!”

“Wait, wait, wait! I just thought of something. Maybe we should have tea first.”

“Oh, good idea!”

Q: What happens when you let your second grader take a video on the beach?

A: He follows everyone everywhere.

100_7027IMG_5215100_7022Also, you gain new insights into his mind, something commonly referred to as “The Enigma.”

Q: What happens when you live by a super-sized sandbox?

100_6976100_6973A: What happens is any number of variations of the above.

Q: What’s next up on An Island Mom?

A: Finally, as promised, I’m finishing up an installment on the series The Other Side of Crazy: Relocating to an Island. I’m slow, but I get there eventually.

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A Surprising Turn of Events: An Island Mom Goes DIY

I’ve long envied all those DIY blogs that churn out an infinite number of potential DIY project ideas. I’ve made no secret of my penchant for Completely Coastal, a blog that includes (but certainly isn’t limited to) DIY projects of a coastal nature. Indeed, I live vicariously through Maya and her projects, imagining what my life would be like if I had once single ounce of creativity in my coastal-loving soul.

Alas, I do not.

Imagine my excitement, then, when it dawned on me that I actually do have a DIY project to share with you after all. This is assuming, of course, that the broadest of all DIY definitions is acceptable.

Think broad here. Think very broad.

And actually, it’s not my project. It’s my sons’ project.

The boys have decided to start building their own beach chairs, thus eliminating the need to remember and drag chairs to the beach.

On the day they conceptualized this, my younger son decided to build what would become his prototype by digging two holes in the sand right next to each other. One hole was a foot or so deeper than the second hole. He put his feet in the deeper hole and smoothed out the other one so that he could sit on it. He added a small boogie board to give the chair a solid back, and presto, he’d created a surprisingly comfortable beach chair.

100_7120100_7125100_7123Naturally, he insisted I try it out for myself. This trial was not pictorially documented, I’m happy to report, as the chairs were originally designed for someone approximately half my size.

I have to say, however, that while both their chairs offer advantages, my older son’s creation is a little more my style.

He built his chair right by the water’s edge, just before the tide began coming in. His chair was much like my younger son’s, except more shallow. Then, he used the sand from the holes to build a wall in front of the seat to delay the inevitable rush of the sea.

100_7118100_7117Eventually, as expected, the ocean’s ascent began to claim his chair.

Often, when he’s built sandcastles near the water’s edge during low tide, the Atlantic’s approach has brought with it a bit of disappointment.

100_7115This time, however, it was the best part.

 

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I Will Go in the Ocean No More Forever

IMG_5185“From where the sun now stands I will go in the ocean no more forever,” declared my younger son a few weeks ago when we went back to spend a few days on our old island.

Okay, those might not have been his exact words, him not being Chief Joseph and all, but he was disgruntled the day we arrived and felt the colder-than-normal water temperatures. Disappointed, he declared it too cold to enjoy and offered up his boycott of disapproval to the Atlantic.

Knowing his life is a living demonstration of the word “tactile,” I laughed to myself while nodding and donning my “I understand” face. That boy, I knew, would be in that ocean before I’d finished the cup of coffee I was drinking.

IMG_5163IMG_5159IMG_5152IMG_5149IMG_5148And so he was, unable to resist the Atlantic’s allure.

IMG_5146IMG_5143He, of course, maintains that he didn’t really go in the ocean that day because he remained in his regular clothes the whole time.

The things we tell ourselves, all to save face when strong spirits prove weak against the tactile pleasures of the sea.

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