Putting Mother Nature on notice

Today is official DAY 1: Spring Break 2011. I have a tan - in MARCH. I am ready for some nice weather, Spring Fever was implanted in my brain during recent trip to beautiful tropical island, and I woke up today fully expecting to see crocus popping out of the ground and daffodils about to bloom. Springtime magic. Right. Mother Nature, it seems, did not get the memo. I hate to be the one to ALWAYS complain, but when I woke up today to this, I got a little mad:

Because really? I know I live in Colorado, and we won't be done with snow until May, possibly June... but DAY 1 of Spring Break? Really? It hasn't snowed in forever... today seemed like the best possible day to remind us that Springtime in the Rockies doesn't mean shorts and flowers and warmth?

Really?

Romance redefined

I used to think it was so romantic when Husband would give me flowers out of the blue... and he still does that - and I still get a little leap in my heart when he does.

This morning he called to find out what kind of memory card my camera took, since he was at the electronics store and remembered I needed one. And you know what? My heart kind of took a little leap.

Romance, after all these years, is still there. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in other stuff that I don't to notice it, but my heart reminds me of it every now and then so I won't forget: It is the million little things that matter most of all.

Thats some good parenting right there...

So, my eight year old daughter (DD2) is in a particularly whiny phase of life right now. And when I say that, please imagine the most irritating, whiny child you can imagine and multiply by two. It's bad.

We've been wondering how to handle this - we haven't quite found her "currency" yet... sending her to her room and other simple punishments aren't working so well. We've threatened to video tape her, she hates that idea. We've also told her we're more than willing to take her to school in her pj's - but she pretty much knows we're bluffing on that. However, our voices are starting to sound like we've been at too many very exciting sporting events from all the yelling we've been doing around here, and we hate the thought of starting off the day with a swat on the bum to try and stop the behavior.

This morning? She had a total tantrum. ROLLING on the floor of the landing, screaming at her sister every time she saw her face, yelling at the dog for walking by... much like the last five years of her life had never happened at all.

What set her off?

She wanted me to pick out her clothes for her. Again. Another habit I'm trying to break - as at 8 years old she's old enough to pick out her own clothes - especially since she hates what I pick out! Trying to head off a whiny start to the day I ended up picking out some jeans and a t-shirt which she HATED, and thus the drama began.

So, what does a good, caring, loving, supportive mom do at that point?

She grabs her iTouch and FILMS HER having a tantrum.

You thought she was mad before that point? It was like a volcano went off. She tried the "paparazzi hand over the camera" move, then she flew to her room and slammed her door. At which point all I had to say was, "Now, if you don't pull yourself together and either wear the outfit I picked out or find one you like better, I'm going to email this video to your teacher."

10 minutes later she was dressed. She hated me, but she was dressed.

Trust me, iTouch is at the ready from now until this phase ends. Turns out that was her currency all along. (I almost can't wait for the next time I have the chance to say, "Oh hold that pose so I can get the video camera ready!")

I know, I know... it's not exactly Love and Logic, and Dr. Phil's audience would probably boo me. But I think I just found a new "perk" of parenting.

Oh, Gnomeo...

OK, how do you not like a movie where the characters are this cute? (My VERY favorite character? The little mushroom on the left.) It's typical of the original story, the Montague clan on one side of the fence (in blue), Capulets on the other (in red). The Montague gnomes are in a garden with a porcelain toilet as it's centerpiece, while the Capulet gnomes are more posh, with a pond and tower in their garden. (No coincidence that the Dolly Parton Gnome comes from the blue side of the fence.)

The gnome in the Borat swimsuit amuses, but the real humor of that was missed completely by my kids - as was the comment by the twin gnome to the gnome he was attached to, "I wish I could quit you." There are some funny pop culture references, and while Tybalt dies in the original tragedy... he makes an appearance at the end of this movie super-glued together, which made the kids laugh.

There were some cute Shakespeare references: "a hat for a hat", Rosencrantz and Guildenstern from Hamlet make an appearance - on the moving truck that takes lady flamingo away.

The part when the jogger encounters the 100 or so gnomes "frozen" in the alleyway was my favorite scene.

Would I give it two thumbs up? Probably not. My kids don't get British gardens and gnomes and the particularly crusty Brit attitude of the neighbors that hate each other. However, I giggled and the kids liked it... I didn't fall asleep (sorry, Brad... it wasn't THAT bad). Of course, I have to admit, it helped to remember that this little guy:


Is this guy, who is probably one of the best looking men on the planet:


Keep reminding yourself of that and it helps!

Egypt

Amazing history being made in our lifetimes - so why do I have this nagging urge to tell the people of Egypt, "Be careful what you wish for."

However, a peaceful revolution (on the part of the protesters) is history making in itself.

Just please be careful. The hard part is beginning.

You know how I hate to rush things...

So, I find myself here - the middle of January gone - staring down what is left of the Christmas decorations. It isn't pretty.

The tree seems to have begun to undecorate itself, tired I guess of being the last holiday tree standing in the neighborhood. (Well, probably not the LAST one... but it's getting down there.) There are now so many toys at it's base I can no longer tell the Christmas toys from the ones that lived here before December 25th. The nativity set is scattered, most of the pieces have spent the new year partying with the Kelly dolls - only the camel left in the crèche to try to help me figure out what is what, my only companion as I try to locate Joseph again this year (Joseph annually goes missing right after Christmas, one year he never did make an appearance... but we found him in with the stockings the next year and figured out he'd just needed an extended holiday). Today however Joseph was located early, and the shepherds fell into line - and even Mary was there waiting to be packed away. My elusive nemesis this year? The Christ child. I managed to pull myself together before frustration set in and the obscenities started. Screaming, "WTF have you done with the baby Jesus?" throughout the house hardly seemed like the proper way to close out the holiday season, and with patience did finally manage to locate him dressed up in a zhu zhu pet princess costume over with the rest of the holiday hamsters. No harm done.

So as I pack up the last reminders of the happy holiday season there is a pervasive thought running through mind... How much longer till the pool opens?

Definitions

Apathy:
Lack of interest or concern, especially regarding matters of general importance or appeal; indifference.

Snowy Freezing Cold January:
See above.

Less than a week ago a child died after a year long battle with a brain tumor. He was a first grader at my children's school. I have found myself starting an entry about this on and off since I heard the news on Sunday. However, I keep finding myself wanting to rant about how I don't understand God's plan when something like this happens, and how as a mother I can't imagine dealing with this...

...but this isn't my story to tell. I didn't know this little boy except for minor interactions at school, and I don't know his family. I kept up with their news through a friend, and prayed for a miracle. We all did. Now I pray that God will give his family and friends the strength to get through this, to stay together and try to find one good things to hold on to and keep living. Them living through this will be a miracle. Not the one we all prayed for originally, but the one that needs to happen now.

Please join me in sending prayers for this family. God bless this family and give them comfort. Keep them safe, and love their little boy who is with you now. Please make sure something good can come from all of this, and walk with his family and friends while they need your strength and guidance. Amen.

Is it me, or are the baristas going mad?

I pull in to Starbucks drive thru today on the way to pick up the kids from school. It's FREEZING outside (technically, colder than freezing), so I pull up to the speaker - and here is how that little conversation went:

Speaker box: "Welcome to Starbucks! I'm Kent, can I start you off with a peppermint mocha today?"
Me: "Uh, no thanks, Kent. I'd like a Grande Sweetened Green Tea please."
Kent: "Great, that'll be $2.11 at the window!"

I drive up to window, and hand Kent exact change.

Kent then turns around hands me an ICED Grande Sweetened Green Tea.

Me: "Wow, it's freezing out here, I had hoped that it would be HOT tea."
Kent: "Oh, OK. You want HOT Sweetened Green Tea?"
Me: "That would be exactly right."
Kent: "What did you want that sweetened with?"
Me: "Come again?"
Kent: "What kind of sweetener do you want us to use in your hot tea?"
Me: "Is this a trick question?"
Kent: "No."
Me: "What did you sweeten the cold drink with, Kent?"
Kent: "Simple syrup."
Me: "Is there a reason you wouldn't just use that for the hot version?"
Kent: "Ma'am, we don't make sweetened hot green tea usually, unless someone wants a latte. Did you want a latte?"
Me: "No. What I want is hot tea. Green tea. Hot. Sweetened with simple syrup. I've ordered it before and not had this problem... why is this a problem?"
Kent: "It isn't a problem, it just isn't something we usually make. I'll get that right up for you."

So I wait.

And Kent hands me a steaming hot, sweetened green tea. I'm happy, Kent is relieved, I drive away.

Kent is lucky that I'm on the highway before I realize it's a Tall.

Wendys? I believe you owe me an apology...

....or at the very least an engineering degree. Check out what came in the kids meal today:

Are you freaking kidding me? I was doing OK until I realized I'd forgotten to put Yogi's chair back in to slot M and had to take the thing halfway apart and then reassemble.

KIDS MEAL.
Which means the KIDS should be able to do this.
Stupid marketing department and it's 3D puzzles. I'm not going back there until a totally mindless keychain is the prize.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

(I have copied this from http://www.newseum.org/yesvirginia/ , where they even have a photo of the original editorial. This is one of my very favorite stories at Christmastime.)


Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.


"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

"VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Thankfulness

The holiday weekend started on Tuesday night when the girls and I went downtown to see "Shrek: The Musical". So much fun - such a special girls night. Quiet Wednesday, cleaning up for company the next day - and then Thanksgiving! Husband's parents and brother were here (I seriously lucked out in the in-law department, his entire family is so great), and my brother's family was here with us. Special, because my niece from CA was here for the holiday and that they chose to share their family time with us was wonderful. The deep fried turkey was delicious, the pumpkin pie to die for. Friday we wound down, the girls and I got a late start but went to have lunch and spend the afternoon with my dad - their Papa. They love their Papa! Saturday DD1 and I went shopping (as DD2 has a birthday coming up on the 30th which she's been counting down the days towards since the middle of October)... followed by DD2's big birthday dinner. (Which I know is strange timing, since Saturday wasn't her birthday - but it was our last free evening until after the big day.) Sunday we just happened to have four tickets to the Bronco's game - so we bundled up and off we went! It's was DD2's first visit to Mile High, and we all had a pretty good time. (They now both HATE the Rams, who beat us... which is an OK sentiment with their dad.)

I was really sad that the holiday weekend was ending. So much to do packed in to five days. I was so very Thankful that it had been such effortless fun.

But today when we woke up there was snow on the ground, and now the house is cozy, warm, and so very quiet. I'm hanging out with my dog, mug of hot coffee in my hands... and I am very at peace. That doesn't happen to me very often, so I'm very thankful. It was a wonderful weekend, and now I need the quiet.

Yesterday I thanked God for creating my family, who I love so much.
Today I thank God for creating "quiet."

What's on Twitter?

You know about Twitter, right. Where you get to share your thoughts in 140 characters or less? I don't have a lot of followers on Twitter, but I do follow over 50 people - 30 or so of them make me giggle every day. I also throw out some of my best thoughts on there, because it's easier than blogging... so in case you don't Tweet, here is what I haven't been blogging:

Dear @peoplemag, Ryan Reynolds is not sexy, he is "cute." There is a difference. Robert Downey Jr. is sexy. Please make note. Thank you.

I don't want to brag, but with those pancakes I made tonight I think Bobby Flay would be on the losing end of a throwdown.

At the checkout lane in the grocery store tonight: Husband, "I see the Kardashians are in trouble again." Daughter, "What's a Kardashian?"

I love when I put gas on the credit card, and then get an email that tells me I'm approaching my limit. For a $46 dollar balance?? Bwahaha!

How do I know for sure it's Monday? At 2:15pm I figure out my yoga pants are on inside out. And I've been out in public like that. Lovely.

Keith Partridge is SIXTY?? WTH???

Am re-reading Pride and Prejudice... sigh. I LOVE this story.

My children just returned home with more candy than I will EVER let them eat... operation "throw away a few pieces a day" starts in the am.

watching Hoarders while i clean house, find out it is an anxiety disorder? I am so screwed.

Dear Political Campaign Admins, I've already voted. Stop calling. 8am on a Tuesday, really?

Making homemade cinnamon applesauce with my 7 yo. She didn't know you could MAKE applesauce - so clearly I'm doing a good job there.

My husband, right this very minute, is watching TJ Hooker on TV. I wonder if he feels all "22" again?

I hear that the relaxing effect of chamomile tea is multiplied if you steep it in vodka.

I wish you guys could see my 7 year old popping her hip hop moves through my kitchen. Does she have to grow up, or can I pause here?

My daughter knows the words to an Eminem song? WTF? I guess she's done borrowing my iPod until she's 21.

Something I never pictured myself saying at 7:55am? "Get down off the kitchen chairs to practice ballet."

Beginning to understand why boarding schools are so popular, and why they start to send kids around age 11.

I saw Kathie Lee on Today earlier. If she's going to do that to her face, she's gonna need to pay more attention to her hair.

Tomorrow is Tuesday:Psychologist day.Where she reminds me to listen to my snarky inner bitch & leave the guilt behind. Worth. Every. Penny.

my 5th grader reported some kissing that was going on to a teacher today. (she tattled on 2 other kids.) High 5 me for raising "that girl"!!

I like holding the door for people who are far away, you know... so they have to run a little!

Black nail polish seemed like GREAT idea - till I tried to remove it. Now looks like I've been changing oil on the car. Not worth the cute.

talking about vacations with hubby yesterday, asked "Remember our honeymoon?" His response, "No, not really." Slapped him.

I love Friday. I want to take Friday out for coffee and catch up, we don't see nearly enough of each other.

How is it possible, with a nose the size of mine, that it is the only body part I missed with the sunscreen??

So there, in a nutshell, is an example of things I don't blog because I feel like there isn't enough story there to write about... although no one ever said that a blog entry had to be a certain length, did they?

Putting it in perspective.

My daughter just looked at me and asked, "Were the 1900's fun?" Followed up with, "Has it been nice living in two centuries?"

I no longer feel young.

Husband's Facebook update

This morning Husband updated his facebook with the following:

"Happiness is a new truck."

THIS is why he's saying that:

He got his Frontier Pro4X (with the luxury package - because when you off-road you need the comfy leather seats and open sunroof) yesterday. And it doesn't even count as his Christmas present!! He can't wait to get it up in to "man country" in the mountains. Hmmm, I wonder if a trip to "man country" includes his three favorite girls?

Sad news...

We're going car shopping today. Which in itself isn't so sad, but it means that we've reached the point where paying $2200 to (not a guarantee) fix the Minivan isn't really such a good investment anymore. ($800 in the Spring, $700 about 6 weeks ago... just crazy.)

So, Husband wants a truck. DD1 is coming with us today to do some test driving. Last night when we were driving home from picking Husband up at work she said something about going car shopping, and I said, "Actually, we're going truck shopping. Daddy wants a truck." She said, "Trucks aren't cars?" I said, "Well, they're different than cars." Then she said, "Oh right, like thumbs aren't fingers."

I love her.

Wish us luck!

Updates

The dog is doing fine. She's doing so great that she went out trick-or-treating with the girls and dad last night. One neighbor, someone who loves Siberian Huskies, thought she was about a year old - so I'd say the bounce is surely back in her step. (That and it must have been really dark outside... because while she certainly doesn't look like she's coming up on her 13th birthday, placing her in the "puppy" category is pushing it a little.)

The car (minivan) that the dealership fixed for free? You know, that isn't such a great bargain IF THEY DON'T ACTUALLY FIX THE CAR. Husband decided to drive it to the airport this morning... leaving me the dependable car just in case. Good thing he did, as the minivan overheated on the way to the airport, Husband had to let it cool down and bring it back home, and then the whole family piled in to the dependable car to first take Husband to the airport and then to drop the darling daughters off at school. (They were only 10 minutes late... GO US!) So, yeah. We'll be visiting the mechanic again later this week to see what's up. Really it was the "Luck of the Irish" that we decided he'd take the minivan this morning - or I'd be broken down on the side of the highway with Husband in a different city and two kids not delivered to school. (And, this probably goes without saying, but of course I didn't shower this morning - which would have added a nice trailer trash touch to the mommy/damsel in distress vibe.)

On the bright side, my dog is happy and healthier than she has been in quite a while.

Then there is all that other stuff. And, at the very least, it seems to be fortunate timing. Because of the darling daughters' Halloween haul I am certain that I have enough chocolate to get myself through this crisis.

Here's to the Luck of the Irish!

Why do I heart the internet?

Right now I'm seething after a phone call from our vet's office. We ended up getting overcharged by $116 because of an accounting error that the "gentleman" at the front desk wouldn't acknowledge upon checkout (as I'm trying to juggle a dog who is bleeding from the mouth, listen to post op instructions and medication dosages). He told me I'd have to call the next day to work it out.

Over the last two days I've had to talk to three people in their accounting department to get them to give us a credit. They never did admit a mistake, but when I told them I'd scan the bills and payment records and put them on the internet to expose their accounting practices, they said in the interest of keeping me as a customer they'd credit the money. Right now? I LOVE the internet. Because the internet is WAY more than word of mouth complaining. That kind of stuff can go viral - and trust me, I'd work my behind off to get it there. (They actually did make a mistake, why can't they admit it and just be cool?)

However, after this dental ordeal is over I think it's time to change Veterinary offices. There has to be an office that is more customer oriented, right?

And, if that credit isn't in my account by Monday? I'm posting it all right here.

UPDATE: The vets office made good on their word - a credit for $116 hit our bank today. Know what else? My car broke down (again), and the dealer fixed it for FREE because it was something they should have caught last time it was in (a month ago). All of the sudden it pays to be a consumer!

It is over.

“It is over.”

These are the words written in an email that we received this morning to let us know that a friend has passed away. Husband’s former co-worker has lost his wife, his partner, his love. I did not know her well at all, I only met her a handful of times. But Husband always informed me of how she was doing. His co-worker shared the struggle during conversations with my Husband, and I felt happiness for them when they received good news… and prayed for them when the news was not good.

“It is over.”

The note was written at 2:19am. My heart is broken for him. This was not a sudden illness; she has been fighting cancer for a very long time… since before Husband met them.

“It is over.”

It is the end of so many things. The end of her struggle and the end of her pain. The end of the small arguments or teasing that make up the conversation after you’ve been married to someone so long that the other topics have all been covered. The end of their children having their mom around to call and talk to, to hug, to be there for them even though they didn’t really need it anymore. The end of endless doctor appointments and medications. The end of not knowing ‘when?’, which is the question you never really want answered.

“It is over.”

When you get married, it is with every expectation that you will be growing old together. You are taking on a partner for the rest of your life, but at some point that ends. One of you always finishes growing old before the other one does. This is something they should tell you before you get married, just so you know. This couple really got cheated in this department, as to lose your spouse in your 50’s is unthinkable. Yet, I attended a funeral just two days ago of a woman who left behind a husband in his early 70’s. Again, I doubt that he thinks they got to grow old together – as early 70’s probably doesn’t feel all that old to him. I am no less sad for him. I don’t know how I would face it if Husband stopped growing old before me… I can’t even go there in my head. I don’t know how my dad manages, and he and my mom made it to 81 together before she passed away. I don’t think my dad thought they were done growning old together yet either.

“It is over.”

This is what my brother said to me on the phone when I called him to tell him that I was too tired to drive back to the hospital when mom was dying. He called to say, “it’s time if you want to try to come down.” It was the middle of the night, and after talking to my husband had decided I was just too tired to safely drive back to the hospital. When I called my brother back to tell him he said, “It’s OK. She’s gone. It’s over.”

I am so sad for anyone who has to hear these words and for anyone who has to say these words. It seems that we hear them all too often at our age. Friends losing parents,friends losing spouses. We are at that age. Today, for Dory… who fought so hard for so long, it is over. May she rest in greatly deserved peace, and may her family find peace with her passing. Today my prayers belong to them. I am really very touched by the fact that "it is over."

I honestly wonder...

I wonder how many times I have spoken the words, "It's not a trampoline, it's a sofa. Stop jumping on it."

I think I may have hit the million mark about 35 seconds ago.

Because THAT is what little sisters DO!

DD1 had a bad week.

DD1 has actually had a couple of bad weeks. At school. DD1 has been having a rough time remembering to get all of her school work done and turned in on time.

DD1 has had to sign her "Tally Sheet" three times in the past couple of weeks. (You have to sign your Tally Sheet when you don't turn in assignments.)

Anyway, DD2 (who is only in second grade, as opposed to DD1 being in fifth grade) has been walking around all day telling me that she hasn't ever "flipped her card" (the second grade version of a Tally Sheet) EVER in her life. Not once. And did I know that (Sister's name) had signed her Tally Sheet THREE TIMES?

She's been waiting for something like this for seven years. Seven long years of being perfection's little sister.


I? Am the youngest of six.


I? Totally get where she is coming from.


I? Am also the mom of the child who is so thrown by all of this "Tally Sheet signing" that I can see the pain on her face every time the topic comes up. So, I feel compelled to remind DD2 that, although I've never received a phone call from a teacher at school about DD1's behavior, DD2 was only in kindergarten for six days before I got my first ever teacher phone call about how a certain someone had decided she had completed enough school work and was not going to do any more. Ever.

Her reply? "Yeah, but not THREE TIMES!"

Oh, to be the little sister.
Oh wait... I am.

Christmas Card Design Idea 2010

Never too early to think about our Christmas Card design, right? I love to have a picture of the kids, or the whole family on the front - exuding happiness and holiday joy. It's the inside greeting I usually have a hard time with... I hate to get too repetitive, and I'd like it to be original each year.

So, when this showed up on Dooce's site (as pointed out by Mrs. Nielson), I knew I might have the answer to this years question, "'Season's Greetings' seems so over done. What can I say that would REALLY let people know how I really feel?"

I feel like this sentiment from artist Mike Monteiro sums it up perfectly:

Because really? I probably did. (I wonder if he does licensing agreements for short runs of greeting cards?)

(To see more of his work FOLLOW THIS LINK RIGHT HERE. And then check out the other artists in the right hand column on the site. All that amazing artwork is for sale. Awesome.)

See, now you're anxiously awaiting our holiday greeting card.

And December is a LONG way off!

Bwahahahahaha!

Las Vegas

OK, relax... I'm working on the entry. It's not an easy one!

Cotillion

She's growing up!

Here is DD1 the day of her first Cotillion class. She loved her dress, and thought the white gloves were so fancy.


Here is her whole look. New dress for the occasion, and she was digging that her shoes had a bit of a heel. Also, she looks SO much like my mom in this picture - it's her smile!

It's always more fun when you do stuff like this with friends!

...and you can take the girl out of the play clothes, but the playful attitude doesn't really change!

She must have said a hundred times that she didn't want to take "etiquette classes," but she didn't realize that to learn social graces you get to go do social things. Need to learn party manners, introductions, and conversation? Their class was a party. Need to learn proper table manners? Lunch at the country club. Once that sunk in? We were golden, she was happy, and now she can't wait to go back! (October is a Sock Hop... know where I can find a poodle skirt?)

Don't know who said this...

This is making the rounds on the Internet... would love to know where it originated - because it is all kinds of awesome!

Be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning the Devil says, "oh crap she's up!"

I find this brilliant and funny all at once

When talking to my psychiatrist, I often refer to, "my family." But then I always have to throw in, "the one I grew up with, not the one I have now." He said that there is a clarification that makes it much easier to keep them straight in my head, to compartmentalize them if you will. The family I grew up with is, "my family of origin." The family that Husband and I have created is, "my family."


The family that Husband and I have created is "MY FAMILY."

It does feel so much better to have that all straightened out.

Prima Donna in training

My daughter, dancing around with her goldfish snack crackers in her hand - moving slowly in to the family room where snacks are not allowed. Me, "Hey! Where are you going with that food?" Her, "Wherever my 'balancé' takes me..."

Guess I'll be buying more ant traps.

Update on "Roughing It"

I picked her up at 5pm on Friday. She saw me and started crying. She was sunburned, and dusty, and tired... and she cried. And then she was OK, she just had a lot of emotions built up.

There were things she loved about camp: Archery, Horseback riding, the "Queen and Fairy Godmother" game, their bunk mate Francis (who is one of 12 children, and DD1 thought she was hilarious), songs and s'mores, cookout breakfast the last morning, volleyball, four of her counselors - especially Kiwi, her counselor from New Zealand.

There were things she didn't love about camp: The latrines, showering in semi-privacy, the ants that live in the tent's wooden plank floor, the moths that live in the top of the tent, she missed us a lot (perhaps even more than we missed her if that is possible), and that her flashlight batteries which were brand new died the first night.

There are things I wish I had pictures of: Her sitting on the wooden steps to the tent the morning they all woke up at 4am and were waiting for the sun to come up, her on her horse - who she now thinks of as a life long friend, her eating chocolate chip pancakes that last morning - famished and exhausted and disheveled.

She'll start telling us a story, then skip crucial details or reference things I have no clue about, and when she finishes her story we're totally confused. I don't know at what age it sinks in to kids that you are TRULY a separate person from your parents, but from the way she talks I know that DD1 is still very firmly in the subconscious mind set that I simply "know" everything about her life. That we automatically just "know" what has happened to her. She hasn't yet figured out that I'm really not omnipotent, that there are vast portions of her life that I sort of don't have a clue about... which is one of those things about parenting that surprises me. I didn't know it would be like that, before I was a mom. Becoming a mom has taught me so much, especially how much I didn't know before.

Overall? The good outweighed the bad, and camp was good. For both of us.

********

At check-in:


Finding their tent area on the map:

With her BCF (Best Camping Friend):

Her actual cot:

Right before going home:

My daughter... roughing it?

Just got back from dropping DD1 off at camp. Girl Scout Camp, seems innocent enough right? Where they sleep in bunk beds in cozy cabins with a bathroom down the hall. Even the "indoorsy" type of girl can handle Girl Scout Camp - it's hardly "rustic". Totally do-able for my DD1, who didn't even remotely inherit the love-of-the-outdoors gene from her daddy.

Yea, that's what I thought too.

Turns out when you are an "older" girl (4th grade on upwards), it's not so much a "cabin camping" experience as it is a "backwoods camping" experience.

Behold where my daughter, who really doesn't even like to sleep with the window open, will be laying her head down tonight:



...and here is a glimpse of the luxurious bathroom accommodations she'll obviously be sharing with a fellow camper - since that looks like a two seater to me:



...and where will she be washing her hands after using the "biffy", as they call it? Where will she be brushing her teeth? Funny you should ask... because here is the lovely vanity area:

The mess hall, shower, nurse, craft cabin are all (I kid you not) about 1/2 a mile down a steep, winding hill. It was a hike to get up that hill to the cabins, and she gets to do that walk several times in the few days. (We pick her up at 5pm on Friday.)

And I thought her biggest hurdle regarding this camping trip was going to be her morbid fear of insects. Boy, will that be low on her list!

She's back Friday, and she's an all or nothing girl - she'll either LOVE it, or HATE it. I'll let you know!

What a difference a school year makes!

First day - Last day

School year 2009/2010

Look what happens when you don't stop to notice them growing up! I can't believe the year is over - there were times I thought it would never end... and here we are again: POOL SEASON!