Laundry Musings

This afternoon as I was folding the 5+ loads of clean laundry I did on Monday, I pondered many deep questions.

• Why does Josh only have one pair of underwear in all these loads?  (ick - you can probably guess why)
• And why does Michael have ten?  (multiple wardrobe changes on some days apparently)
• Will wrinkled clothes ever be fashionable?  (sadly, probably not)
• Does the laundry reproduce in the basement?  (if it does, it is probably mating with the toys because those seem to be reproducing as well despite my attempts to purge the toy boxes periodically)
• When Jason and I got married, I did two loads of laundry a week.  Now that we have 3 kids, I do about 8.  How is that math supposed to work?  (really, I don't know - they are all much smaller than us ergo should produce less laundry by volume - a mystery)
• Is there a gremlin who chews holes in our socks?  (yes)
• How is it that in wardrobes consisting almost entirely of various shades of blue, green, black and brown my kids still manage most of the time to pick outfits that don't match?  (no idea)

Homecoming Parade

On October 14th, Michael was in his first Homecoming Parade.  He was part of an elite group of preschool students who sat on a float covered in toys while the truck drove slowly through Old Town and then down towards the high school.  It was a fun little parade.


However, before the parade got started, Josh and his best friend J had a Star Wars moment.  A completely unplanned, spontaneous Star Wars moment.  Sitting on the side of the street, we happened to see J and his dad (we did not know they were coming) on the other side.  Josh and his bestest friend (the are psychically linked, as you will soon see) ran towards each other and simultaneously drew out their lightsabers and began a Jedi battle in the middle of the street.  While cute and hysterical with 7-year-olds, I could totally see these two doing the same thing when they are 20.  Oh dear.

Shortly after their battle, the parade began with the marching band and cheerleaders.  There is something about a marching band music that just makes you smile and feel excited.

Michael's preschool is a lab class for high school students, so the little kids got to sit on the float with some of their "teachers" as well as the wonderful teacher who runs the program.

Michael, a bit of a non-conformist, wore his soldier uniform (just like Uncle Doug) instead of school colors.

The floats were fun and all the high school students were very enthusiastic.  And they were throwing candy at the kids.  My boys decided that they love parades where people throw candy at them.

Josh got some other loot as well.  It definitely was a fun way to spend a Friday afternoon in the Fall.

Fox Hunt

Michael and I did the coolest thing on Saturday.  We attended the opening ceremony of a fox hunt.  A real, Virginia fox hunt.  This fox hunt is 102 years old.  A friend of mine, K, invited us to come watch when we went to her house this last week and she let Michael ride her daughters' pony.  Well, rather let him sit on the pony while the pony cooled down.  Michael loved it.  At least, I am pretty sure he loved it.  Michael and Chuck Norris have one thing in common: one facial expression for a myriad of emotions.  But he said he loved it, so I took his word on it.

Early Saturday morning we drove out to the Green where the ceremony was going to be held.  We got there early so Michael spent some time petting the horses in the adjacent field.

Around 9am, the horses, riders and hounds came down the street heading towards the Green.  They were quite a sight!  All the hunters dressed up in their coats and hats, the horses with their hair braided and the gorgeous hunting dogs (and I am not usually a dog person).

The dogs were ready to go.

My friend.  Hello!

All the riders waiting to get started.

The hounds and the master of the hounds (should that be capitalized?).

Part of the tradition includes a blessing of the hounds by a priest.  In this case, the priest from the nearby darling little stone Episcopal church across the street.

A blow of the horn and they were off!

It was so exciting to watch and Michael had a great time.  We may have a horse lover in the house.

Conversations With My Kids

Me:  Which of you good looking boys is going to take care of me when I am old?
Josh:  I just don't know.

Michael:  Who is that man running on the road?
Me:  I don't know.
Michael:  Is he the mayor?
Me:  I don't know, but I doubt it.
Michael:  It is the mayor.
Me:  How do you know?
Michael:  Because the mayor runs the town.

Home Sweet Tent

We did it!  We finally did it!  We went CAMPING!  As I was relating our Shenandoah experience to my Dad, I had an epiphany.  My Dad and Step-Mom have some land down in Dahlgren area where my brother-in-law and his kids have camped, so why shouldn't we?  It was ideal.  We were guaranteed a spot, there is a toilet (deal breaker for me), and since Dad has been clearing out the land there was a lot of free firewood.  After a cub scout hike that morning, we packed up and headed south.

The ground was still pretty muddy since the entire state of Virginia hasn't had a chance to dry up after our month long monsoon season.  But, part of the property is grassed in and so we still found a great spot for the tent.  It was exciting to put the tent up somewhere that wasn't the basement.  It is an 8-man tent that takes 2 adults, 3 children and a hammer to put up.  Or that is what we would have the children believe.  Despite the wetness, we still found plenty of wood that was dry enough to burn from Dad's bonfire pile.  We opted against a bonfire and used about half the pile to keep our campfire going for about 6 hours that night and a few more in the morning.

There were a few good logs that were accessible in the pile, but most of what we used was kindling.  Which meant that it took a lot of work to keep the fire going.  Jason taught the boys to "karate chop" the longer pieces with their feet so the area was resounding with the sounds of "HI-YA!" and the crack of wood breaking.  They loved it.

After the fire got going, Jason brought out the roasting sticks and the hot dogs.  They boys were still pretty cautious about the fire at this point and would sit several feet away trying to warm their hot dogs for all of 30 seconds.  Living in a microwave world has given my children an unrealistic expectation of food preparation times.

Then it was time for Jason, Rachel and my tin foil dinners.  I packed chopped potatoes, chicken and carrots with some spices in aluminum foil and we put them in the fire.  The fire looked like this when we put them in:

But, it grew in size and intensity in the hour that the dinners were cooking and so came out looking like this:

Yep, that is what food looks like when it is turned into charcoal.  Turns out neither Jason nor I have made tinfoil dinners since our early teens.  Luckily, Rachel hadn't arrived yet so I gave her a call and she stopped at a grocery store on her way down to pick up some edible foods.

Rachel also came bearing graham crackers and chocolate to add to our marshmallows for s'mores.  Yum.  Well, would have been s'mores except that Michael didn't want to wait for the marshmallows to get melty so ate a marshmallow sandwich, Ben just wanted to eat the marshmallows right out of the bag, and Josh finally made friends with the fire but only ate some roasted marshmallows.  I think Rachel enjoyed some s'mores though.

As it got completely dark, we busted out the glow-in-the-dark bracelets.  The boys had fun chasing each other around in the dark.  It was fun to watch since all we could see were the bracelets moving in the dark.  Then Rachel had the brilliant idea of putting a bracelet on each of Michael's wrists and ankles.  Best. idea. ever.  We almost died laughing watching Mister Speedy's limbs race around in the dark.

After that, Mister Speedy and his brothers were exhausted and it was 9pm, so we went to bed.  I had convinced Jason to leave the top off the tent so "we can see the stars" which also meant that it was freezing.  For all that I complain about how the temps don't get cooler at night in the summer in Virginia, they do drop in the Fall.  Ben ended up sleeping with me, which meant that I didn't get to sleep much.  The other boys did better and we all learned some important lessons (put the top cover on the tent, bring more blankets, don't feed Ben dairy etc).  

  

But the dawn came, eventually, and we got up to gather more firewood for the fire Eagle Scout Jason restarted with no matches.  We got to use our new Colman stove for the first time as Jason cooked up pancakes, bacon and hard-boiled eggs.  Camping apparently does incredible things to one's appetite as our boys, with whom breakfast is normally an epic battle, devoured 1 1/2 batches of pancakes, 2/3 pound bacon and graham crackers.  Ben out ate everyone with 6-7 pancakes, 3 pieces of bacon and who knows how many graham crackers.  

We had a great time.

Leaves!

It's FALL!  Which means all the leaves that have been piling up in front of our house for 3 months finally have a legitimate reason for being there.  (The trees here have some serious anticipation issues and try to beat all the other deciduous trees in the area to the punch.)  And since the weather was nice and cool Friday, a bit of exercise seemed worthwhile to have some fun.  So, I took Josh, A and L outside to make a leaf pile (Ben and Michael being elsewhere).  For 20 minutes we labored to make this pile, me with my feet and the kids filling paper bags, before Josh wished aloud for something to speed up the process.  I told him that most people use rakes to do this.  He reminded me that we have one in the backyard.  Then I felt foolish.  We trekked around back to retrieve the rake and brought it to the front to quickly finish the job.  Our neighbor, S, joined us and here is what we made:

 Of course, there was a lot of discussion about who would get to jump in first.  We solved the dilemma by making the pile big enough for everyone.

As one would expect, it turned into a free-for-all.

Due to either the limitations of my camera or operator incompetence or a tragic combination of both, I have lots of blurry action shots.

The kids had a great time and even fought over using the rake to fix the pile after it sustained too many jumps.  I love it when kids fight over who gets to do work.  Then, sadly, there was a mishap involving Josh's nose and someone's leg (unknown, but there were three possibilities), so he left the party and went inside.  Occupational hazard of being a kid.  But, here is a cute picture of A, S and L.

Now that I know remember that we have a rake, we'll definitely do this again.

Why We Love Grandma Jo

Okay, there are TONS of reasons why we love Grandma Jo, but this definitely makes it towards the top of the list.  Grandma Jo sent the boys a box of Halloween goodies.  We have been doling them out every day or so to  make the fun last longer.  I left for Chorale practice the other night before Jason gave the boys a goodie out of the box.  But, today, I found this picture on the SD card.

Awesome.

Michael and a Girl

We have a 4-year-old girl over to play today.  The conversations between her and Michael are hysterical.


Girl:  Can I tell you something?
Michael:  Yes
Girl:  Farts are flammable.
Michael:  What are farts?
Girl:  I knew that even before I was born.

Michael:  Skeletons poop out other skeletons.
Girl:  Do they poop out baby skeletons?
Michael:  Yeah, they poop out baby skeletons.  Baby skeletons are dangerous.
Girl:  Did you make that up or did you learn that at school?
Michael:  I learned it at school.

Girl:  I have a pink plate and cup and you have a green plate and cup.
Michael:  Yeah, because you are a girl.  If I had a pink plate, I would be a girl!

Why I Think This Is Offensive

This picture has been posted on Facebook recently.  I find it offensive.

Not all of it.  Just that last sentence.

Why am I offended?  Well, let me tell you about two incredible people in my life whom I admire greatly.  And they graduated from college with debt.  But, it turns out not everything in your life is YOUR decision.

My sister.  My sister is wicked smart.  And dyslexic.  Since the schools offered her little to no assistance, she graduated with less than a stellar GPA.  It was a good GPA, but she worked at least twice as hard as some of those all A's students and didn't get all A's.  But no scholarship.  She lived at home during college, went to the state university, worked and biked/rode the bus to school.  Then my parents divorced in the middle of her college years.  They both moved out of state and were unable to help her.  She worked nights, went to school days and lived in a beater car for a while trying to graduate without debt.  Being homeless was very difficult and took a toll on her grades.  Finally, someone convinced her to take out a student loan to move in with a group of girls so she wasn't homeless anymore.  She joined the ROTC and did eventually earn a partial scholarship.  She graduated as a distinguished military graduate who had worked hard AND had some debt.

My husband.  My husband is wicked smart.  His father abandoned them when he was young and never paid a cent of child support.  Jason, his mother and four siblings were very poor.  Jason almost became a high school dropout, but pulled it together to graduate and be the first in his family to go to college.  He worked during college, lived modestly, had no car and little to no financial support from family.  He graduated from BYU with some debt, but I consider that a huge achievement under those circumstances.

If you are someone who manages to graduate from college with no debt, like the person who wrote the statement above, I applaud you for your effort.  Because it IS hard work and quite an achievement of self-control and hard work.  However, you didn't do it alone as the statement above proposes.  Your family and life situation most likely contributed greatly.  Even if your family wasn't handing you money every semester for tuition, they have contributed to you financially in ways that made it possible for you to live that way once you got to college.  Did your parents ever buy you clothes in high school or college?  Did they facilitate your studying?  Did they encourage you to go to school?  Did they pay for your plane tickets so you could attend an inexpensive university in an inexpensive state?  Did your family send you boxes at school?  Did you get money for your birthday or Christmas for clothes or books?  Did your family pay for your health insurance?  Did your parents pay for your auto insurance in high school?

Good for you.

Lucky for you.

Because that kind of assistance is ideal without paying directly for your tuition, books or housing.

But, don't tell other people that it is THEIR decision to have debt.  That line of thinking means that only people who are able to get really good grades and come from well-off families should get to go to school because they are the ones who have the best chance of graduating debt-free.  I agree that there are plenty of people who take out loans for unnecessary expenses and squander their money.  However, the purpose of student loans is to even the playing field and allow people the opportunity to get higher education who may not come from an ideal background.  That doesn't make debt their fault.

I don't know who the 99% are, but I do think it is unfair to judge those who may have worked as hard as you, sacrificed as much as you (or more) but who didn't have the same opportunities or background as you.

Ill-fated Camping Trip

We would love to go camping.  Would Love To.  We have the tent.  We have the camp stove.  We have the marshmallow roasting sticks.  We are ready to go.  We already tried once.  But after Noahesque rain, it just didn't seem like the best idea.  We tried again today.  Apparently all of Northern Virginia went camping this weekend.  And, sadly, we weren't the first.  Or the 10th.  Or the 300th, because when we got to Shenandoah National Park all the campgrounds were full.  I could go on and on about the differences between camping in Virginia and in Colorado, but I will spare you the diatribe and just show you the adorable and expectant faces of our children before we knew what was awaiting us. 

So, we picnicked among the bugs and not-quite-yet Fall leaves.  Then we headed back down to our area for a Childrens' Festival.  Which should have been advertised as a great opportunity to help your children learn how to stand in lines.  Because we did.  Lots. And lots.  Like we may never go to this annual festival again.

But, they did get to make sand art.

And play in a hay maze.

And get temporary tattoos.

And eat ginormous Popsicles.

The longest line, however, was for the horse ride.  It was deceptively short but moved impossibly slowly.  When we got in line, there were two horses but only one giving rides.  After 45 minutes in line, the guys below started dancing and playing music and spooked the last horse.  Which was very unfortunate since we were still about eighth in line.  Michael had been very patient and dedicated while waiting in line.  He dealt with the disappointment pretty well, but I was heartbroken for him.  

It was definitely a mixed bag.  And so disappointing that we didn't get to go camping.

Maybe next time.

The Sad Saga of Sokka

My husband used to be an animal collector.  On his mission in Alabama, he and his mission companion caught 10 baby turtles and kept them in the sink (in case you were wondering, it was a split sink).  Later while teaching in New Mexico, he caught tarantulas and brought them in for his 3rd graders to see (tarantulas were the school mascot).

So, while driving home from proctoring the SAT last Saturday when we saw a turtle on the road, Jason stopped to take a look and we brought it home.  The boys were so excited.  Josh named the turtle "Sokka" (Avatar: The Last Airbender anyone?).  Jason made a little habitat for it (not versed in identifying reptile gender) in the back yard.  Josh had to rush out a couple of times an hour to check on Sokka.

The next day or so were unseasonably chilly.  Sokka spent most of his time tight inside his shell.  Whether that was due to the temperature or Josh's diligent care is unclear.  At one point, we watched for an hour or so while Sokka stayed with his body half in and half out of the water and his head mostly submerged.  We were uncertain if this was normal behavior for the turtle or if it was stuck or if it was suicidal.  As Jason and I thought about it, we decided that as we didn't really know anything about caring for a turtle and were not prepared to bring it inside, it would be best to return it home.

While that was a relatively easy decision to make, it was a bit difficult to implement.  We decided to have a family discussion about the turtle.  We talked about what we need to be happy (home and family) and what Sokka needed to be happy (home and family - the boys had decided that "he" was a "daddy" turtle).  With tears and heavy hearts, we all decided to take Sokka back to his home.

Here are the boys and Sokka getting ready to head out Sokka's home.

Here is Sokka out of his shell in his shoe box transportation and very friendly in the warmth of the car. 

And Sokka being returned home.

Anyway, it was a very sad day.  We didn't realize how very attached Josh had become to Sokka and there were a lot of tears.  Poor guy.  

Cox Farms

Last Friday we did something that I have done almost every year since we've had kids - we went to the Cox Farms Fall Festival.  So much fun.  It is a little bit of a drive, but definitely worth it.  Every year there is a slightly different combination of people in our family who get to go.  This year it was Michael, Ben and I.  This may have been one of the funnest years:  Our youngest is 2 1/2 and I am not pregnant.   Hooray!

We had a tight schedule this year since I worked at the gym in the morning and we had to be back in time to get the kids off the bus, but we did squeeze in 2 1/2 hours of fun.  Michael, a super speedy runner, made good use of his legs and ran up again and again to go down the slides as many times as possible.  Ben and I went down several times and he loved every minute of it.  He even went down one of the slides by himself!  

Ben, king of the hay-bale mountain.

Michael, going down the volcano mountain slide.

 Big boy, big slide.

Little boy, little slide.

Tunnel slide.

Hay ride.

Ride home.

I love Fall!