no vacancy

I'm here. I haven't written for reasons of laziness and busyness and winter blues and indecisiveness.

Those same problems have caused us some trouble. We've been planning to go to the Grand Canyon during the summer of 2015 for about two years. Two years.  And about one of those years ago we should have made reservations because... we are not going to the Grand Canyon this summer.  There are NO VACANCY signs hanging outside the canyon, just for us to see. And to make us feel dumb. Nothing but laziness prevented us from planning ahead. Apparently there are over 900 rooms on the South Rim alone. All taken. North Rim? Nada.

Instead we will travel to All The Parks except the Grand Canyon. We will save the Grand Canyon for another trip another summer. Someday.  The kids also want to get to New England, maybe driving up the coast all the way to Maine. Again, another trip, another summer. We have a few left before our dear Pook tries to get away.

We've started our planning. The boys both want to drive through Arkansas. Not that they want to see anything in Arkansas, but somehow it's a state we just plain missed on our big Yellowstone tour. It's right there, so I don't know how or why we didn't drive through it just to say we'd been there, but we didn't, so this time we've got it in the itinerary.

The rest is quickly evolving. We'll hoof it out there in two long days, then start day trips. Carlsbad Caverns and the Petrified Forest will accept us sloths even without a year's preparation. We'll stop in Monument Valley and Natural Bridges, and carry on to Canyonlands and Arches National Parks. Somewhere in there will be rafting on the Colorado River, probably in Utah.

We'll see the Four Corner states in more depth than we saw any of them on our Yellowstone tour.  We should have enough time to see each park thoroughly. The Grand Canyon can close its doors on us and we'll simply divert ourselves elsewhere. We're starting to look forward to it already.

how to grow a project

This How To tutorial can be used in almost any circumstance. Simply replace your verbs and nouns with more specific words applying to your task.  However, if you follow this tutorial I am not responsible for your ensuing troubles, including but not limited to wallet shrinkage.

Stage One: Awareness

1. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room. Mop it up and wash yet more towels.
2. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room.  Note that it has happened before but put it to the back of your mind.
3. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room. Note that it has happened before and decide to pay attention to when it happens.
4. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room. Note that it is happening more regularly. Remember to mention it to your spouse.
5. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room.  Tell your spouse that this is the night the washer has to come out to inspect the situation.

Stage Two: Investigation

1. Remove baseboards so washer can be moved. It fits tightly into the space. Very tightly.
2. On the count of three, heave the washer out of the space. 
3. Run a load of dirty towels which were used earlier in the day to mop up from the washer.
4. Use three more towels to mop up from the washer which leaks while it washes the towels from before. Wonder where you got so many old towels.
5. Note that the outside and underside of the washer are totally dry. Realize you're going to have to call a plumber.

Stage Three: Worry

1. Panic when you see mold on the wall. Investigate black colored mold and discover that Black Mold is something really, really awful. 
2. Buy gloves and face masks.
3. Decide it is ordinary mold. Notice that the plumber is just using a sponge and bleach. 
4. Decide that maybe you don't really care what kind of mold you have. Correct that to "had" and feel much better about decision.

Stage Four: Money (Technically this stage is easy)

1. Regard calendar and daily schedules and arrange for plumber (conveniently also contractor.)
2. Do it again when he says the problem is in the pipes inside the wall, not in the washer.
3. And again when he says he needs to rip out the wall and possibly part of the slab.  
4. Give him a key so he can come back three more times over the period of two weeks to check on the dampness of the wood studs in the wall and proclaim them, "still too wet" to close up the wall.

Stage Five: Adapting

1.  Remain flexible about location of washer, which has been positioned in front of dryer and in front of door for three weeks now.
2. Hit your head (again) and wonder how many more days until you can put the washer back.
3. Wrench your back (again) and wonder how many more weeks until you can put the washer back.
4. Get estimate for permanently moving both washer and dryer for future convenience. 
5. Say "thanks anyway" to plumber (conveniently also contractor) and continue current discomfort for several more weeks.

Stage Six: False Congratulations

1. Feel relief that the wood in the wall is finally dry enough for the wall to be rebuilt. Yay! The laundry room will return to its original state!
2. Realize that plumber (conveniently also contractor) is putting up drywall. And coming back the next day to remud it. And the next Monday to sand it.
3. Notice that drywall is green, mud is white. Room used to be dark blue.
4. Realize that the new section of wall needs a coat of paint.
5. But primer first.

Stage Seven: In for a Penny, In for a Pound

1.  Discover that you have no dark blue paint since the room was this color when you bought the house in 1999.
2. Think that it makes more sense to paint the room with one of the many leftover cans of paint you own. Maybe the kitchen's pale yellow.
3. Two coats of primer. On the whole room.

Stage Eight: Start the Project

1. Look at the amount of Stuff kept in that small space and watch it grow like a wet sponge as it comes out and fills the whole kitchen. Try to squeeze a step stool into the space vacated by all the stuff and see that it barely fits.
2. Remove the switch plate covers with a screwdriver.
3. Remove the shelving with a different one. And a hammer.
4. Dust the dang walls so the spiderwebs and dryer lint don't get painted.
5. Start priming the trim/edges, moving the step stool in and out multiple times and tripping over the washer hoses each time.
6. Hit your head, elbow, hip and knee in a continuing sequence.

Stage Nine: It Will Never End

1. As you wash primer from your brush, roller and hands, realize how many more times you'll need to do this since you can't even start half the room until the washer and dryer move to their original locations.Wonder if it will ever get done.
2. Notice the build up of laundry around the house. Wonder if it will ever get done.

where we are

 I found $68 today in the pocket of some pants I haven't worn in a while. Oddly, it included a $50 bill and I can't figure out why I had a large bill. Or when.  Not that I can't spend a $50 bill, but nevertheless I am curious.


*****     *****

We just went a full week of school and work and all the accompanying errands without using any gasoline. CD has taken to biking Bug to school and then continuing on to his office. Pook either takes the bus or I drive him with the electric Leaf. I drive myself around to work and errands in the Leaf. Great feeling!

Update on the Nissan Leaf: Electricity consumption has gone up more than expected but not really very much. I think our bills are about $20 more each month.

*****     *****

Pook decided that carrying a purse is really practical. This hasn't swayed him to actually carry one, but he did make a list of what he would put in it if he did:

• Swiss Army knife
• iPod
• matches
• penlight
• pen and pencil
• small notepad
• playing cards
• fishing line (hmm?)
• handkerchief (?!)
• wallet
• charger
• earbuds

I don't understand what the matches or fishing line are for, and he's never used a handkerchief, but whatever. I think with the pocket knife, iPod with charger and wallet he's covered for any emergency. He isn't a boy scout, but I think they'd accept him.

*****     *****

Update on the fishtank: Years of fishes have proven to me that I should just keep my mouth shut. Soon after showing off Freddy to the world, my fishtank acquired a nasty disease and every single fish died. I felt particularly badly about losing Freddy and his/her parents. Only a few fish have ever been named.

*****     *****

Pook will be passing me up in height this year, at age 13. He's about an inch shorter still, but can make himself a three egg omelet for a snack. For a while we thought Bug might catch up with him, but he's suddenly looking much older.  He likes to point it out to me when his voice cracks. He also thinks he's growing a mustache but I haven't pulled out a magnifying glass to confirm this.  The child is way too fair for any facial hair to show anyway, so I think I'll be spared the shaving for a while yet.

*****     *****

We've opened windows, at least at night. I love to hear the night noises as I go to sleep. If we turn on fans in the early evening and early morning, I think we can be done with air conditioning. Ahh, fall. It still looks like summer here, and days are still warm, but hopefully the night temperatures will encourage plants to start fall shows.

letter to camp

Dear Pook,

Just wanted to make sure you were ok with us renting out your bedroom. You know, since you're not using it. It was a little crowded in the room for our renter, so we've put all your former books and toys into your brother's bedroom. He's enjoying them. It'll just be until we turn it back into a guest room like it used to be, after our trip to Florida for Harry Potter World.

I keep looking at the clock and wondering "I wonder what Pook is doing right now." And then I think of telling you what we're doing at that moment, but I've resisted (mostly, except that one other email) because I don't want to make you too jealous.  Our renter would be upset if you came home early.  Plus, I know you'd be disappointed to know that we've eaten the first of the cherry tomatoes, with basil on pasta. The day at Six Flags won't be anything exciting compared to KP duty in the dining hall.  And none of the parties planned here will be a big deal to miss in comparison to your daily opportunity to share a tiny cabin with seven other stinky boys.  So I told Bug not to mention that stuff.

Your brother would send you a note here too, but he's out at the moment seeing the new Captain America movie with your friends. I thought they'd notice you were missing but it turns out that as long as someone "likes" their pictures on Instagram, it doesn't really matter who it is.

It has been hard to squeeze all this in because of Bug's tennis camp, but having given up bedtime rules we find that we can do much more.  Plus, our mealtimes last much less time when we don't have to wait for you to finish. Such a relief.

Anyway, I just wanted send my love.  Hope you're having a good time!

yours truly,
Mama

p.s. The renter says thanks.

fun with a funyak

Sorry I've been gone so long. Summer vacation does that to me.  You'd think I just sit around all day, then lounge at the pool, then hang out for the evening. I have very little to discuss.

We went to the mountains for the weekend, near Highlands NC.  Pook was about to stay for a week of camp and we were invited to stay the prior weekend before saying goodbye.  It was a beautiful and relaxing place, all meals included, so we enjoyed ourselves. 

I love driving places up in the mountains. First you pass the produce stands with "boiled p-nuts" and the fancy spots with both cold beer and live bait.  One place advertised (on little signs stuck in the ground at intervals along the road) "frog jam" and then "toe jam." I'm assuming that the people who want those know what they're getting.

Then you get into reading the street names. They're awesome. I can just picture some town council telling everyone that the map makers have requested that they name their roads and everyone needs to turn in their road name by month's end.  Some think for weeks before choosing. Ted writes his down immediately.  Ted was probably ten.

My favorites:

Lingering Shade Lane (the winner, in my book)
Grasshopper Lane
Pumpkintown Road
Buttermilk Road (and then Upper Buttermilk Road)
Teds Road
Mirror Lake Lane
Turtle Pond Road
Turtle Creek Road (not near each other)
Gold City Lane
Corn Creek (or maybe my writing is messy and it was Cow Creek?)
Lazy Bear Ridge
Rebel Ridge (It is the South, remember)


While we were there we took an excursion to go rafting on the Tuckaseegee River, a smaller and less crowded river than the Nantahala. The outfitter had these wonderful inflatable kayaks, called "funyaks" which we chose.  They were about ten feet long and relatively comfortable. Paddling was simpler and more responsive than in a canoe. I thought they were easy to guide but the boys ran a lot of rapids either backwards or spinning around uncontrolled until they hit a rock. The rapids were Class I and II, so nothing requiring a helmet (which is good because I lied about Bug's age) but we all got wet.

The camp had started a week prior for those wanting two weeks away, so we came in on the middle. We met three other families doing the same thing, and hung out with them part of our time. I enjoyed seeing how bonded the kids were after a week together (think of lots of young teenagers hugging, dancing and singing and generally making a ruckus.) I hope the newcomers like Pook were welcomed in.

(And now, sniff, I'm missing our boy.)

the future is here

This

is for sale.

This

is in my garage. Plugged into the wall. Charging.

The car, as a lease, is a bargain. Here's my math:
    $2000 down
+  $5520 payments ($240/mo for 23 months)
+  $2400 estimated annual addition to power bill across two years
+ $350 fee when you turn the car in, in two years
-   $2800 gas for two years (I'm guessing, and that's probably low)
-   $5000 Georgia tax credit (There is a $7500 rebate from the Feds which brings the cost down also, but it is worked into the original lease price by the dealer.)

-----------
    $2470 for two years. And, no maintenance costs either.

I'll update in a few months with any corrections in those numbers.  Meanwhile, I'll be the one silently zipping around town!

got pants?

"Hey, guys, your piano recital and band concerts are coming up. Do you have dress clothes and shoes that fit?"

"Uh, mumble, mumble, uh huh"

"Can you pull them out for me to see?"

(multiple sighs)

Bug has his bedroom organized these days into the following piles (to the best I can discern): dirty clothes in hamper, dirty clothes under the bed, baseball clothes in milk crate and the floor around the milk crate, cardboard box of shorts and swim suits which I pulled out but which are getting worn without ever being put in a dresser, clean laundry still in a laundry basket, dress pants on a shelf in the closet, a scattering shoes on the closet floor (mixed with toys and clothes which have fallen off hangers.)

He pulls out the dress pants and says "Here, see" in that 'duh, mom' sort of way. I clearly decided to torture him because I then said, "Try them on."  (ack, horrors!)

Pook's floor looks better, there is only a hamper of dirty clothes and a cardboard box of shorts and swim stuff but if you look in his closet you will see scores of shoes from years gone by, clothes I hardly recognize because they have collars and therefore are never worn, and well, you really can't get in the closet to see what else is there. That might be for the best.

"Try 'em on guys."

(multiple sighs, groans and "aw, mom"s)

Bug: "I just wore them. They fit fine."

"Prove it."

"See?"

"Why don't you button them?"

"Uh, maybe they're too small."

"What size are they?"

"8"

The next pair was the same. The third pair fit. Size 12. They get pulled off and left, inside out on the floor. I'm picking my battles, so I fold them and set them aside on top of the khakis he's planning to wear to the first concert.

"How's it going, Pook?"

He hasn't started trying on clothes but is instead standing in his underwear playing with the Electronic Pocket Distraction (EPD) he removed from his pocket when he took off his pants.

We find him pants which fit, but he can't locate the dress shirt he says he owns. Turns out, it is two sizes too small and I'd put it in Bug's closet. Nevermind, he needs a tux shirt one night and anything with a collar the other.

Now to Pook's shoes. He pulls out five pairs of black dress shoes, two pairs of holey running shoes and two pairs of sandals from his closet. I immediately throw some in the trash can. He begins to try on dress shoes. Bug grabs a pair and puts them on.

"They're fine."

I suggest socks be added to the try-on process. They begin an argument over who owns which black socks.

Pook is still working on shoes. Bug is now at the top of the stairs looking classy, wearing shorts and t-shirt, black dress socks, and shoes which maybe would fit Pook better but Bug got to them first. Their feet may be the same size.

"Hey everyone!"  My mom is standing at the bottom of the stairs. (Holding a cookie jar!)  "The garage door was up and the door was unlocked and no one heard me, so I just came in."

I'm trying to avoid losing control now. "No cookies until you're wearing clothes!"  She eases herself away and I get them back to the business of trying on shoes. Finally, success. I put aside the remainder and offer them online to Friends With Boys.

If I had a chance to do it again, I'd join with a few families of boys and suggest we buy one pair of black dress shoes in every size. We could swap them around for 18 years.

**************

It is ten minutes until we should leave for the recital.

"Mom!  My pants don't fit! I can't button them!"

Sure enough, the khaki pair Bug wanted to wear today (did I ever see him trying them on?) is too tight. Size 12. Super mom that I am, I locate a pair of 14s.  I'd cut off his head but it wouldn't make the pants fit any better.

**************
5 minutes later:

We will never get out the door.  Bug came down in khakis (which fit, with a belt) but black socks.

"But I don't have any khaki socks!" (Clearly I am guilty.)

I find the child some khaki socks.
**************
 in the car, running about five minutes late:

"I guess these shoes are a little too small."

***************
between the car and recital hall:

"My shirt is missing a button."

it must have been the right "stuff"

A camping Pook will go!

Pook and his friend Tuck attended a weekend retreat in March, up in the North Carolina mountains. They must have had a good time because when they came home they began to talk about possibly going there for summer camp.

I don't know how many of you have sent kids to summer camp in the past thirty years (that leaves out you, Mom) but oh holy hiking trails are the prices high. It isn't unusual to find week long sleepover camps priced over $1000.  I have looked and I have considered and I have then distracted the interested child and looked at day camps instead. (Although $250 for a camp that sends them home after they eat their self-packed lunch is still pretty crazy.)

This time the price was $600. But then came an email: "Thanks for attending our retreat. Any of the children who attended the retreat and come to summer camp for the first time can receive a $100 discount."

Ok, this we can work with. I spoke to Tuck's parents and they were feeling the same way. Child interested, parents on the edge.

"What if the boys helped earn the money?" The church had been saying that they needed people to make Wednesday dinners. Having done this with a group before and made about $250, I found a good date and picked the menu. The boys wrote out emails to help advertise and Pook made a list for me of possible baked potato toppings. I thought they had a chance of making $100 each, maybe more if they plead their case well and put out a tip jar.

Then the organizer told me to expect more like 40-50 people, not the 100 plus I'd had last time. It was too late to back out, but suddenly it didn't feel like it would be worth the effort. The other mom and I each made a large pot of chili, we bought cheese, butter, sour cream, broccoli and all the rest.  We sent the boys' emails to the youth director, who sent it to all the families with children. The choir director sent it on to his members, who rehearse Wednesdays. I decided to aim for 60 people. Leftover potatoes make fine potato salad and everything else was usable or freezable.

Wednesday night Pook put a sign on the tip jar, his Nana put seed money in, and we began.

Twenty minutes later we were out of potatoes and chili. I offered to take Pook out for fast food if he'd sell his meal to one last customer.

An hour later, eating the remaining cookies, Pook and Tuck counted their money. $399.  It must have been the advertising:

Come to this week’s Wonderful Wednesday Dinner!

Help us go to summer camp

April 30 at 6:15

Social Hall

Potatoes with chili and other stuff

from the box

Bug has been itching to make a recipe he read on the side of the graham cracker box. I finally took a look at it, decided he had good instincts, and bought chocolate chips and sweetened condensed milk so he could give them a whirl.  He finally found the chance to test them this quiet* Saturday morning, and the results are quite good.

Odd little recipe--no eggs.  They didn't rise up much so they don't look like the picture on the box, but how often does that actually happen? Here's the recipe. I nixed the nuts and coconut because in my opinion they should not be in a good cookie anyway.

*Yes, I said that we were having a "quiet Saturday morning." Yes, it is baseball season. Yes, the calendar is developing a case of the rainbows. But not today. Today it is noon and we are all in pj's and we have fresh, hot cookies. Life is good.

brotherly love

Is this a sign of brotherly love or what? Older brother to younger brother:

"That's just my spit. Here, I'll wipe it off for you."


Bug's school starts all the fourth graders on instruments (band or orchestra) in the second semester. They put in three top choices and are assigned an instrument based on the rest of the kids' preferences and the musical balance of the group.

Bug requested trumpet, trombone and clarinet, in that order. I had strongly encouraged him to take saxophone off his list. The child is too competitive with Pook already and having something else in common seemed like a big mistake. The band instructor had already told Bug that, due to his height, he would be a great trombonist. This clearly influenced him, but not enough to put the instrument on his list as number one. But now he's assigned the trombone and he's very happy and all is well.

We sent out a couple of emails to friends and quickly were offered the use of three trombones. CD and Bug went to pick one up and then dropped it off at the music store for some TLC. It was collected Saturday. Bug has picked it up each day since and tried to make some music.

The dying duck has not left the house, but he's sounding healthier.  Enough healthier that Pook is interested. And, I must say I'm thankful that Pook couldn't make much sound from the trombone and allowed Bug to instruct him. Even with the educated guidance of the two-day-experienced player, Pook couldn't do much with it.  Bug glowed.

Then Pook surprised me by pulling out his saxophone and suggesting that Bug give it a try. First he demonstrated how to suck on the reed. Then he wiped off his spit and gave it to Bug to use. (I tell you, brotherly love!) He leaned over and around Bug to help him put his fingers just so, and demonstrated the mouth position a few times before, finally, a saxophonish noise came from the instrument.

Both boys acknowledged the difficulty of the other instrument performance and traded back to get their own. A few saxophone enhanced duck calls later, both instruments were packed up for school tomorrow.

a little of this, a little of that

I feel like I need to catch up here.

• The kids are outgrowing clothes. Pook hasn't put away the shorts but has worn long pants all this week. If he hadn't, I think the school might have turned me in. We had lows in the 20's. I went to a nearby thrift shop and bought him six pairs of pants for about $20. Glad the kid doesn't care about brands. Or, for that matter, doesn't care what he wears.
• The garden has frozen. The leaves still look wonderful however. I'm looking around for things that need help next spring. I must get better at cutting back fall bloomers so they don't get too leggy.
• I cooked teriyaki chicken with fresh baby carrots the other day and it turned out great. Last night we had some fresh spinach and everyone moaned with joy. (It had butter and Parmesan cheese on it.) We had about twelve leaves of swiss chard from our own yard. While I feel grateful that I have a family who likes food and all my cooking, Pook did surprise me by saying that "what really matters to me is just that it has calories." See #1, above.
• I sort of stole a four foot basil plant from Bug's old school. The cold was already predicted and the plant looked so neglected that I couldn't help myself. I made enough pesto to fill two ice cube trays. I didn't have many pine nuts so I tried pumpkin seeds and it turned out great. Much cheaper. Stolen basil is already pretty cheap however.
• The Halloween candy is gone; banana Laffy Taffy was the final sweet in the bowl. Bug doesn't like them, but ate one because "well, it was candy." I, on the other hand, am a candy snob.
• The Paid Job is good. I don't have a well defined job description, no idea what sort of title best describes me, and I forget to pick up my little paychecks since I don't always work the day they get distributed. I come home exhausted, but I really like what I'm doing. I have a nice blend of shadowing a couple of kids who need support and doing observations in other classes when teachers request it. I think I'm useful.
• Someone told me that the holidays "were upon us." I went into Starbucks and then Kroger one evening last week and discovered that Christmas had thrown up all over them both. Poor Thanksgiving.

bits and pieces

The eye doctor appointment did indeed lead to glasses for Bug. He picked out frames over the weekend, put them on an hour later, and hasn't taken them off since. He wore them in a baseball game to pitch two innings and at school for picture day Monday. After school he said to me, "I may be like Pook and wear them all the time. I mean, I can, like, see stuff!"  The frames are very modern and somewhat bold, but he knew as soon as he put them on that he liked them best. My job then was to back away and say OK. I'm not used to seeing him in them yet, but in another week he'll look familiar again.

* * * * *

We paid for cable. We upped our cable bill from "technically your service comes from a cable but no, you don't receive any channels which are worth charging you extra to receive" to getting channels showing baseball. We set ourselves up for an October of Braves Baseball! Maybe we'll invite over friends! We can have a playoff party!  When the Braves play the World Series we'll... we'll... Sigh. Over before it could start. We'll probably keep the cable long enough to watch anyway.

* * * * *

Pook has been wanting to understand the news he hears on the radio.  This seems all good and well until you try to explain it. I told  him that some people don't believe that anything but black or white are ok. If black is right then white is wrong. If white is good then black is bad. All gray is compromising your values and not to be considered at all. "Well that seems dumb" was his first response. And actually quite the fitting response to much of what has been going on in Washington. 

he gets it

We decided to spend part of our Labor Day weekend visiting Stone Mountain Park. I was feeling a desperate need to use our membership passes at least one more time before expiration, and last time we'd attended the ropes course had been closed. This time we planned to do the ropes course and stay long enough for the nighttime laser show.  We had chairs, bug spray and dinner packed and in the car. 

"Prepare yourself for being in crowds guys. The lines could be really miserable."

We headed in, taking a parking spot near an exit, anticipating the departure to be just as tough as the rest.

Splitting up, we managed to get one to the bathroom and a spot in line reserved. When we were all gathered again, we noticed the "You are 1 hour from your turn" sign approaching.  Yikes. I smiled at the man behind me, on his own with three children under seven. They all had duck quacking noisemakers in their mouths. "You may be regretting those duck quackers on the ride home!" I laughed.

Oh holy duck quackers! Ten minutes of that noise was all I needed before I felt my jaw tighten up.  I forced a smile and remembered how bored the kids must feel.  Deep breath. 

I looked at my boys. Half an hour in line now and still not a complaint. Why was I so lucky?

The dad was beginning to regret his purchase too.  "Stop it. Don't bump your sister. Be quiet. Stop that now. Be quieter."  I cringed as his tired voice began to criticize their not really bad behaviors.

Then it got worse. "If you do that again, we'll have to leave.  Stop that or I'll take it away. Stop it. Stop it now or we'll leave."

I caught CD's eye.  He and I think alike when we hear that sort of tired, ineffective parenting. But then something unexpected happened.  "He just needs to really do it, not just say it," whispered Pook.  CD and I looked at each other again.  "He gets it!" All those years of following through, no matter how unpleasant it became. It pays off. Our baby is growing up.

cereal pantry

This is an interpretation of the cereal aisle, or in some cases how the cereal aisle should be, according to Pook and Bug. 

• Unspecial K       ("Breakfast for the rest of us!")
• Hi-Caffeinated Fructose Flakes
• Corn-syrup Krispies
• Sugarless Grain Puffs
• Count Drabula
• Soggy Lumps O'Fiber
• Crazy Carbohydrate Calorie Crunchies
• Captain Mush
•  Hi-fiber Flax Flakes
• Sugar Frosted Chocolate Bombs
• Cardboard Clusters
• Floppy Flakes
• Carbonated Sugar Pops
• Sauseating Nutty Nougats
• Bland Bombs
• Mustard Frosted Weat Squares
• Garlic Puffs
• Honey Bunches of Goat
• Red Pepper Flakes

And I told them that these two might actually sell:

• Coffee Crispies
• Cappuccino Clusters

 

dropoff

Or, this could be titled, "needs practice."


I dropped Pook and his friend off for two free games of bowling. Dropped. Them. Off.  This is a huge milestone for me, but my friends who also have biggish kids aren't impressed. I need someone with a whiny seven year old to really appreciate this. I learned today, as summer is nearing its end, that kids could register to get two free games of bowling daily this summer.  We will be back.

And we need to go back, because my usually dawdling child did not quite get the point of the whole thing. Their goal is to spend as much time enjoying free and air conditioned play away from home as is possible. My goal is to get things done while not having bored kids. Perfect for us all.

Except, after dropping them off, I filled up the tank with gas and came home. The place was about a mile from here, so no big deal. I pulled out some things I need to do, started, then answered the phone.

"OK, we're ready."

"What?"

"We're done. We're ready for you to come get us."

"But... it's only been 30 minutes."

"Oh. Well, we're ready."

So I drove back.  But we reviewed the concept so that we can try this again, perhaps with more friends next time.

1. free
2. air conditioned
3. play with friends
4. away from home
5. as long as possible

Some things just need practice.

half a world away and another world here

I've let my baby fly half a world (or at least most of a continent) away from me. He is on a Road Scholar  (formerly called Elderhostel) program with my parents. Sunday morning they flew to Seattle and made their way to the San Juan Islands. Yesterday he attended a whale program and "met four new friends". Today he will go whale watching.  Later they'll head to a cabin on Mount Rainer and visit Mount Saint Helens.  I'm excited for him, but missing him a ton. Things are just a bit... quiet around here without him. Pook is feeling it too, as much as Bug annoys him.

Pook was given the option of attending a camp this week, but chose instead to go on field trips with me. We spent a day in downtown Atlanta visiting the Martin Luther King Center and seeing his childhood home, then heading to the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library which is only a mile or so away. I'm impressed at the choices of field trips. Tomorrow we're going to the High Museum (art museum) and he wants to get to the Atlanta History Center too.  I'm not sure if these things would entertain Bug or not. Certainly not for the length of time Pook can spend visiting them.

We took a break between the more educational trips to get a few things done today. One of them, a drive to the DeKalb Farmer's Market, was lots of fun. The place sells all sorts of international produce. The employees wear nametags which list the languages they speak. They sell everything!

The kitchen plans had originally included a spice shelf inside the pantry drawer. When it failed to show up we decided to skip it. It took a while for me to come up with an alternate plan, but when I did I also decided to throw out all the old spices and refresh them. The farmer's market has bulk spices at incredible prices, so out we went.  Of course we had to get a few other things too- chocolate croissants, smoked Gouda cheese, a rice pilaf mix they carry, and a dragon fruit.

Why a dragon fruit? Well, one of my habits when I get to that market is to buy something I've never had before. This fit the bill! I found a video online which explains how to eat it (like a kiwi) and when it is ripe. Tonight it will serve as dessert. Hope we like it!

I can't wait to talk to Bug on the phone to hear all about his trip. Pook and I are enjoying our own adventures, but whale watching isn't among them!

gonna go?

Sometimes you know you're doing too well to be really doing well. I've been juggling so many things and been pretty impressed with my ability to keep everything straight and deal with everything as it has come. I took a great big breath when school finished last Thursday because that was the end of much of my to-do list. Baseball is done, school is done. The kitchen is not done. The church playground is not done. The swim team executive board is easing up but ongoing, the vacation to Washington DC is.... oh crap.

I woke up this morning knowing that something was wrong. The best I could do right away was write "check on vrbo" on my long to-do list.  Sometime between "The workmen are running late" and "I'm bored" and "He did it" and "I'm hungry" and "The check engine light is on" I finally got to the computer to see why I had this uncomfortable feeling about our trip.  

I can't find any information anywhere that I've sent a deposit to anyone. The best I can find is a confirmation from six weeks ago that the rental property was available for the requested dates. I took a deep breath and emailed the owner. She was incredibly prompt, but didn't give the answer I wanted. No, I had never actually reserved the property. No, it was no longer available.

I panicked for a few minutes, then I sent the kids out of the room. I took a few deep breaths. I got chocolate. I took a few more deep breaths.  Then I got back on the vrbo website and started hunting. Right now I've got two available places, both more expensive than the first, but acceptable. I've sent requests for availability and price to five others. We will have a summer vacation. It will happen. I will even have a chance to relax. Right?


*****
Pook just asked me if I'd ever wondered if maybe I volunteered for too many things. Perceptive kid.

sure, I can do that

Not working at the preschool this year has left more time for me to fill with other things.  And fill I have.

It only requires some email and organization? Sure, I can do that.

I am flitting today. I started by discussing the kitchen plans with CD. He's concerned about the lack of an integrated desk, so I started looking online for better kitchen desks to replace what we have now. And small file cabinets.

I received an email. The school supply lists for 2012-14 are back and approved. I need to make lists for each grade to send home with the order forms. Not a problem. I can do that.

I went to the calendar to see how much time I had before we needed to send the lists home. I was reminded that CD and I had also been discussing the dates of our Washington DC trip this summer. I began looking at the calendar for that purpose. I emailed a friend who lives there for her opinion. Then I went to our U.S. Representative's website to see what tickets we need him to procure for us.

Then I got an email from our kitchen designer which reminded me that I was off task. But I also got an email from a friend who we're having dinner with on Saturday. Did I know a good restaurant in a different part of town? I began to look.

I clicked on the wrong tab and saw the half finished swim team website I've been working on. I remembered that someone had sent me a few additional photos yesterday, so I went to look to see if they'd be appropriate.

Back on email, I had a response from my DC friend. I went back to the calendar. If we moved the trip earlier, would the kids miss two swim meets or just one? I went to look at last year's calendar and the new website to see if I could tell what had happened last year.

A load of laundry buzzed. I dealt with it and then returned to the (yes, overcrowded) desk. What was I working on? Hard to tell. I looked at desks and file cabinets again. And White House tours. (What do you do with your purse and camera which you can't take in there with you?) Where do our two Washington DC friends live in regard to each other and the attractions we want to visit?

While on maps, I checked out a few options for dinner. Our friend wanted seafood but this is Valentines weekend, and traditional restaurants like that are going to be packed. I emailed her my vote for something less mainstream.

The laundry buzzed and I started a new load. There were very few whites so I went upstairs for towels. Seriously? I hadn't showered yet? I hopped in.

Back to the desk and computer. The playground committee for church will be meeting this Friday. Could I look at some websites and comment?  Sure.

The third grade wants plastic folders next year. They come three hole punched in sets with random colors or with prongs in specific colors. I'll have to check with the grade chair before I can print this out. I email her.

The baseball team has practice on Thursday. I'll be the Photo Day chairperson again this year. It's a simple job. It only requires some email and organization.

I can do that.

off season

Technically Sunday was the off-season.  Bug had his last basketball game -a very exciting one- on Saturday and now we're starting baseball. I say "technically" because the first baseball practice was rained out, so really we have till Thursday without any sports on the calendar.

Sports won't be quite as crazy this spring. Pook isn't playing ball this year.  He wanted to, and I want him to, but we were all really concerned about the scheduling. I think I'd have lost my mind, to be honest. He'd have had some super late nights doing homework.  His school lets out at 4:00 but his bus doesn't get him here until 4:35, as the last kid off.  Most coaches ask the team to come at 4:45 to warm up for 5:30 games.  I'd be picking him up, trying to let him change into his uniform and eat a snack and run to the ballpark all in that small window. Once a week he has a piano lesson after school, so anytime a game or practice fell on a Tuesday we'd have to find someone to swap lessons with.  Ugh.

But this is making me see the end of the tunnel. I realize that they just keep growing up and even though I like going down to the ballpark to watch, this won't last forever.

metaphorically

Do you have Laura Ingalls books around?  I shall quote from On the Banks of Plum Creek:

"Ma" (Laura) cried. "There is a Santa Claus, isn't there?"
"Of course there's a Santa Claus," said Ma. She set the iron on the stove...
"The older you are, the more you know about Santa Claus" she said. "You are so big now, you know he can't be just one man, don't you? You know he is everywhere on Christmas Eve. He is in the Big Woods.... and here. He comes down all the chimneys at the same time. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes Ma"...
"I guess he is like angels" Mary said....
Then Ma told them something else about Santa Claus. He was everywhere, and besides that, he was all the time.
Whenever anyone was unselfish, that was Santa Claus.
Christmas Eve was the time when everybody was unselfish. On that one night, Santa Claus was everywhere, because everybody, all together, stopped being selfish and wanted other people to be happy. And in the morning you saw what that had done.
"If everybody wanted everybody else to be happy, all the time, then would it be Christmas all the time?" Laura asked, and Ma said, "Yes, Laura."

So, this is my take on Santa. At our house we all fill everyone's stockings. Even when the kids were tots, they contributed "some pieces of money" to buy something to put in the stocking of each person who would be there Christmas morning. They get all excited about planning and executing this, which matters to me more than what they give. Bug likes to give mixed whole nuts, Pook goes for lifesavers candy often. One year Bug picked dried fruit to put in them.

We take turns Christmas eve just before we go to bed, each person in the room alone to fill them privately. After taking a turn as Santa, each person gets to ring the sleigh bells before heading up to bed.  We usually go by age, but I get to go last, which is good since by then things sometimes spill out onto nearby chairs.

Since all of us have been Santa for all of their lives I have hoped for a smooth transition. Last year the boys were still adamant that the big guy in a red suit living at the North Pole would be leaving gifts. This year we seem to have fewer gifts (perhaps each is bigger?) and I don't have anything easily left to be "from Santa."  And so, I'm not going to leave any out, unwrapped, on the hearth.  I have lots of fun gifts to cram into stockings but I think the big guy is leaving the room.  Metaphorically!  I'll keep all the unselfishness.

Merry Christmas to all. And to all, a good  night.