Friday, December 30, 2011

A Welcome Break from the Routine...

After the happy holiday hoopla, Team WestEnders prepared to kick back and coast through the days between the Yule and the New Year. Husband managed to arrange "Authorized Hooky" (that must be an Official Business Term, right?) for most of the work-week. And of course the young hooligans--I mean my energetic, enthusiastic, ever-so-entertaining sons--have the remainder of 2011 free from the scholastic grind. Now, when they were toddlers and much more high-maintenance, the prospect of a loooong unstructured period of time would have driven me into paroxysms of planning--that is, attempting to schedule playdates and outings and as many other activities as I could think of, to keep them busy and avoid the dreaded "Small Child is Bored So Must Create Mayhem Syndrome". These days, it's much more low-key. How have we been occupying ourselves during the hiatus, you ask? (Or even if you didn't...) Here's a sample:

--"It's 10:00, can we play video games now?" (Somewhere along the road, Derek and Riley got into their heads that ten a.m. represents the reasonable, acceptable hour to commence their daily electronic pursuits. I don't recall exactly how this happened--maybe one time they asked for permission the moment their eyes opened in the morning, and in exasperation I plucked "ten o'clock" out of the air to stall them. Whatever the case, it's now a de facto Family Rule.)

--And on a related note: "Can I download (fill-in-the-blank) app? It's FREEEEEE!" This would be Derek, who has been positively giddy exercising the power of his index finger with his new iTouch. I have to type in the password every time for him--but hey, the joy of being pursued by ravenous monkeys through ancient ruins (Temple Run, in case you were wondering) is evidently...priceless. Then there's Riley: "Hey, Mom, if I beat this level of Plants vs. Zombies I think I'll unlock a special mushroom!" (That's nice, dear, but don't distract me right now, I've almost completed the last episode in the very special Christmas version of Angry Birds: Wreck the Halls!) Well, at least we share our progress and accomplishments, yes? That's kinda...social...ish?

--Struck by my semi-annual French Fry Craving, (yes, these incidents only occur a few times a year, but when they do, you'd best hand over the potatoes or risk the consequences!) the boys and I took advantage of our lack of time constraints to get the heck out of the house in search of some crunchy french-fried goodness. (Also, feeding the Bottomless Pit Boys every few hours at home gets really old...really fast. Believe me, sometimes it's well worth it to pay someone else to prepare food.) In a strategic Mom Move, I sneakily rolled the promise of "lunch OUT" into a trip to Kohl's (Aaah, the exhilaration of Post-Holiday Bargain Hunting). So the boys did earn their reward, although they dragged their sorry carcasses around the store, eyes only half-open, yawning and groaning all the while about how tirrrreeed they were. Vacation--you know, all that eating and sleeping and playing--is apparently absolutely exhausting.

--However, bouts of unbridled rambunctiousness still seem to arise frequently, and when they feel one coming on, they have been known to explode with sudden bursts of creativity. This week for example, they've been staging Band Practice. The current name of the duo, I'm told, is Fearless Flyers, but as this changes on a regular basis, I wouldn't order a t-shirt just yet. Naturally they feature Derek on drums, while Riley handles the vocal duties. Are they any good? Well, it's hard to say...but I can assure you they are plenty loud! (Let's put it this way: even two floors above them, I can hear them...perfectly...) Hey, it's collaboration and not the alternative (which would be known by the delicate phrase: "beating the snot out of each other") so I shouldn't complain, right? And speaking of self-expression, Derek also inquired as to whether I wanted to break out our newest game for the Wii--Let's Dance 3--so he could "get his funk on". Volunteering to shake his groove thing...with his mother? Now I KNOW he must be starting to feel bored!

--Finally, what would Winter Break be without a little Me Time? (Even though that was rhetorical, I'll tell you anyway: it would quickly degenerate into "Time to Check Mom into a Nice Padded Room"...so let's avoid that, shall we?) I seized the opportunity to slip out for coffee (and donuts--B-O-N-U-S) with my sister and an old friend visiting from out of town. Just us three girls, and we had the rare and precious chance to chat for several hours (gasp!) without interruption from kiddies or hubbies or...life. We traded stories, we laughed (a ton), we had ourselves a grand time. And not once did someone beg for a taste my food, or interrupt me to report that his brother was strangling him (or fill in some other dangerous and painful verb), or pause my conversation to ask me to come find something...it was sheer bliss, I tell you!

So there you have it: start with a lot of relaxation, mix in some flurries of activity to keep everyone from totally morphing into Vacation-Couch-Monsters, and you have the recipe for a successful Winter Break. Next up: bring on 2012!

Monday, December 26, 2011

The Elf Report

Here we are on Christmas evening, having enjoyed a delightful day chock-full of family, frolic, and to be sure, a bit of frenzy as well. (5 cousins, ages 4 to 11...enough said!) Our traditional celebration takes place at Grammy and Pop Pop's (my parents') house. We begin with the solemn, dignified unwrapping of the presents...hahahahaha! Excuse me, what I meant to say was: "the uncontrolled whirlwind of shredding paper and flying boxes" (see the aforementioned "mob o'children"). Oh, and let's not forget the high-volume shrieking as each treasure is revealed. Sometimes an unexpected priceless moment occurs, such as when one of the kids (hypothetically, my nephew) receives an especially loud gift--suppose, just for the sake of argument...a Paper Jamz guitar--which he then proceeds to play incessantly...with his BUTT. (Now whose brilliant gift idea was that? Uh-huh, none other than Aunt Johna! You're welcome, my precious Younger Brother!) And for the Part 2 of Z's impromptu performance, picture a roomful of educated adults struggling valiantly to get that darned disobedient toy to play anything other than the same one song over and over (which would be the timeless classic Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult, if you're wondering. Never need to hear it again, trust me.)

Then when the Santa-rific mayhem winds down, Grammy always feeds the masses with her beloved Pancake and Sausage Feast. This year, in order to flip enough flapjacks to fill our clan (6 adults, 5 kids) she whisked through an entire box of Bisquick and browned two packages of sausage links. Perhaps the best explanation lies in the fact that Derek alone ate 9 pancakes and 6 sausages. (Maybe for 2012 we should begin a new ritual: drop Derek off at Denny's and set him loose on the buffet!)

This year, I was struck for the first time by the fact that after all of the opening and oohing and aahing over presents, each of my sons' piles of loot perfectly encapsulated his personality. From us, Riley requested a couple of DS games, some books, and a Peace Frogs pen and notebook set. (Reading, Writing, Video Games, these are definitely a few of his favorite things!) Derek, craving an iTouch, crafted a deal with the Parental Bank, way back in the Summer, whereby if he amassed half of the purchase price by socking away his allowance, Mom and Dad would contribute the rest as his Christmas gift. (You see, ever since I got one, he had been suffering a severe case of Tech-Envy, but I utterly refused to shell out 200-bucks to buy such a thing for an 11-year old.) His patience, perseverance, and penny-pinching paid off, and Derek was rewarded with his very own iToy this year. And permission to purchase some apps.

From the South Carolina grandparents, Derek got exactly what he asked for: a Snuggie (I'm not kidding--he walks around the house wearing a fleecy throw-blanket half the time in the Winter anyway, and as he explained it, "I want to feel warm, but be able to work the remote at the same time!" Such a...guy!), a new football...and snacks (junk food such as he only consumes when he's at Mimi and Pap Pap's house every year). Riley was thrilled to discover several new Lego sets to increase the ever-expanding Dresser Metropolis in his bedroom. (He proceeded to construct the items immediately...all 600-ish pieces...) Then he somehow delicately assimilated a Spaceship, an Alien Monster, a Bank, and several Police Vehicles into his planned community. (I'm not completely sure if the Monster is robbing the Bank, or if the Spaceship is the actual Thief's getaway transport...all I do know is I'm not moving to that town anytime soon.)

Finally, my extended side of the family made Derek's life complete, by supplying his most prized new possession of Christmas 2011: a Pillow Pet. Imagine one extremely contented pre-teen boy, lounging on his Pillow Pet, sporting his Snuggie and new baseball cap (featuring the logo of the AA Richmond Flying Squirrels. Not making that up.) Meanwhile, Riley got his own Pillow Pet as well, prompting him to carry it around and sing the bouncy tune, "It's a pill-low, it's a peeetttt" repeatedly for the rest of the day. And he was the proud recipient of yet another Lego set, this one a Tanker Truck...which he naturally assembled the minute we returned home. (Well, sure, it makes sense, when you consider that the Police Cars and the Spaceship need fuel, right?)

Truly, what more could one possibly want? The family gathered for a celebration that included entertainment, eating, and enjoying each others' company. Altogether a very Merry Christmas indeed!

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Dinner with Delightful Dorks

Yes, I'm talking about my precious children, of course. Don't get me wrong--I love, love, love that they have the chance to dabble in a variety of enriching topics while holed up in their respective School Environments all day long. And I am eternally, deeply grateful that they take their "jobs" seriously enough to pay close attention to the important subjects being taught. And yes, I even applaud the fact that they memorize a selection of fascinating tidbits to bring home and share with me, their Captive Audience--I mean Devoted Mother. All that being said, my sons' scholastic tendencies lead directly to dinner conversations such as we experienced this evening...

The tone was set while I  prepared to dish out pierogies, and asked each boy how many he wanted. Derek immediately announced that he would take "two times two, minus one!" Oy. "Just trying to keep my parents awake!" he cheerfully added with a huge grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Riley, not to be out...mathed...declared that he would like "the square root of four!" for his portion. That was my early warning that we would be enjoying an Academic Decathalon to liven up our normally-tranquil evening meal, but it was just the beginning...Next, while dousing his plate with ketchup, Derek invited, (in his best Game Show Host voice, which prior to that moment, I was unaware that he even had) "Let's play trivia!" Oh boy, here we go..."Is ketchup a liquid, or a solid?" (I swear I could hear the Jeopardy music playing in my head as I tried to puzzle out the answer before the imaginary buzzer went off.) I knew it had to be a trick, but I went the obvious route anyway: liquid. "Neither!" he gleefully corrected. Then he rattled off the explanation (which I am sooo NOT making up):"It's a thixotropic solution, which means its molecules are in a chain, like a solid; but when disturbed, the chain breaks apart and becomes like a liquid." (After I closed my gaping mouth and managed to rearrange my features back into a more intelligent expression, I wisely noted, "Like when you shake the ketchup to get it to pour." Yep, that was the sum of my brilliant contribution to the scientific discussion.)

Professor Derek ended that segment of the lecture by concluding "We also have a thixotropic solution in our bodies. It's called synovial fluid, and it protects our joints." But wait, he wasn't nearly finished! (Are you jumping up and down with anticipation and enthusiasm? I sure was! Actually, I was busily scribbling with my back turned to him, which caused him to suspiciously ask, "Hey, are you Facebooking this?" Um, of course not, sweetie...but you can bet your...buns...I'll be Blogging it later! Oh look, it's later!) He then fired out his next inquiry: "Can you name the 5 Kingdoms?" Okay, I assumed he wasn't talking about monarchies...so, Biology, right? I hazarded a guess: "Um...Mammals?" No! I figured it was quicker and less painful to just admit defeat, so I let him run down the list: Animalia, Fungi, Protista, Plantae, and Monera. (I really should have gotten Plants and Animals, but mushrooms and single-celled creatures I would definitely have forgotten...and the last one I'd honestly never even heard of. Incidentally, it's "Bacteria", who knew?) Furthermore, the "protista" category had to be specially created, as amoebas and such didn't fit the criteria for any other Kingdom. (And as he continued, I was thinking it's a good thing I took notes, since I wouldn't put it past him to quiz me on the material! Yeah...whose son is he?)

So, that sums up our lighthearted, stimulating dinner chat. The funniest thing of all to me was when Derek revealed that all of this...stuff...came up not in Science Class, but rather in English! Good grief! Shouldn't they be...Shakespear-ing, or something? (On second thought--then I'd have to dig out and re-read some of the plays in order to sound semi-literate in the subsequent Shakespearean Dinner Seminar...nevermind!) Now if you'll excuse me, I should go study my notes. I expect this teacher to grade very tough, and who knows what we'll be covering tomorrow night!

Monday, December 19, 2011

Out with the Old, In with the New...

A couple of random incidents that tickled my funny bone this week...

The first one transpired on Saturday morning at the breakfast counter in the kitchen. The Washington Post "Supplement Package" (Sounds vaguely sinister, right? Like we're receiving thrilling, dastardly Spy Instructions rather than boring, innocuous Sales Flyers...) had arrived as usual, and as per custom, I was distributing the choice selections. Derek claims the Comics; I peruse Travel (wistfully); and at this time of year, Riley snatches anything prominently displaying toys on the front cover. He was happily absorbing the advertisement for a local store called Five Below (where everything costs $5 or less...clever, no?) when he spotted an item that caused him to spontaneously squeal with glee: Angry Birds keychains. (Actually, he sounded exactly like the Pig Targets in the game, whether he meant to or not!) His delight proved short-lived, however, as he almost immediately became pensive and remarked, "Hmm, five dollars seems like a LOT for a little keychain..." I could have quickly, carelessly tossed out, "Yes, it does, honey!" and that would have been the end of it. But noooo...(I mean, c'mon, have you been paying attention? Does that seem like something I would do? Pshaw...) Instead, I launched (kind of like a vengeful flying avian! get it? ha ha!) into an explanation of Copyright Laws and why "Officially Licensed Merchandise" costs more and...some other semi-legal mumbo-jumbo (at least a portion of which I may very well have been making up. Apparently it was close enough for an 8-year old, though.) After an infinitesimal pause, Riley came right back with a snort and a pithy, "Then they should just call it (wait for it...) Irate Birds!" Yeeaaahhh...you think he's secretly been playing Nintendo Vocabulary Games behind my back? Don't ever let anyone suggest technology is ruining my kids' brains...

The second notable occurrence also involved an item from said newspaper. Parade magazine reported that the Concise Oxford English Dictionary (which must be an oxymoron...with a name that pretentious, I'm sure it's as big as a...castle, and weighs a ton...or would that be tonne?) added 400 new words in 2011. Among these: "jeggings", "retweet", and the extraordinarily dignified..."woot". Really? These are the terms deemed worthy of inclusion in the venerable OED? First of all, how many pounds (I mean "euros", blimey!) would you pay to hear, say, Queen Elizabeth let fly with a nice, rowdy WOOT at a Royal Dinner!? And jeggings? Are we to assume this fashion nightmare--I mean trend--is going to be around long enough to warrant even a footnote, much less an entire etymological entry in the world's most recognized and respected tome of definitions? (Wow, that was a lot of big words. And yes, I HAVE been waiting my whole life to use the word "etymological" in a sentence. I'm just so dorkalicious right now, aren't I!) 

Then of course there are the bygone phrases that have been judged obsolete, and will therefore appear no more. A moment of silence, if you please, for: cassette player. Wait, WHAAAAATTTT? It's like they're erasing my precious youth (or taping over it, if you will)! If I remember correctly, the first cassette I ever bought was Bryan Adams's Cuts Like a Knife, and I played that sucker until the plastic spool stretched so much it sounded more like Bob Dylan (shudder). I remember having to repeatedly use a pencil to rewind the darn string back into the case when it got tangled (inevitably) in car stereos. I broke more of those stupid little flimsy boxes they came in than I can possibly count. Since I possessed heaps and heaps of the things, I stubbornly resisted switching over to CDs for the longest time, for fear I'd have to recreate my entire music collection from scratch. But now that I stop to consider it, having fully embraced the age of digital media, I can freely admit that cassette tapes really were a fragile, temperamental, annoying way to play music. When I shared the blurb with the boys, briefly lamenting the passing of "cassette player" out of the English vernacular, Riley looked up from his cereal and innocently inquired, "What's that?" Indeed. Okay, then...good riddance! Now if you'll please excuse me, I must download Cuts Like a Knife to my iPod immediately! (Woot!)

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Feeding Frenzy...

Gosh, it's been weeks since I've written about food, so it must be time for an anecdote that revolves around eating, right? I ran into a friend in the grocery store recently, and while we did appreciate the chance for a lovely impromptu catch-up chat in the condiment aisle, (I guess you could even say we "relished" the opportunity to "ketchup"...hahahaha! Sorry.) we both lamented the fact that we seem to make these shopping forays every few days. Why is it, we wondered, that we can't seem to buy enough at one time to last, say, an entire week? We're smart, organized women, what's going on here? Then Derek came home from school, and--ding ding ding--I had my answer. After we exchanged the usual pleasantries about his school day, he got down to the serious business of assembling his afternoon snack. First he demolished the small bowl of trail mix I had left out for him. Then he asked if he could have a yogurt. Next he eagerly requested a bag of chips. Partially amused, a bit exasperated, and rapidly becoming incredulous, I instructed him to have some fruit instead. So he scraped the last bits of Nutella out of the bottom of the jar, and smeared it on an apple. "Now can I have chips? he finally implored. Good. Grief. And forget about it being a one-time thing: the next day he blew through chips, yogurt, an apple, and a bowl of dry Frosted Mini-Wheats at 3:30. Then he wandered into the kitchen at 5:30 and declared in an anguished voice, "I'm starrrrving!" So I let him have a Fiber One cereal bar to "tide him over until dinner"...in an hour. The way I see it, one of two things is happening--either A) BOTH of his legs are now hollow, and therefore able to hold twice the amount of food he could formerly pack in or B) he's going to wake up one morning very soon and have grown 3 inches in his sleep overnight. Stay tuned.

But don't get me wrong, I'm not really complaining about the fact that I have a kid who loves food. In fact, the one thing our mixed household--that is, a pack of meat-loving boys and one lone vegetarian girl--can completely agree upon is that we all like to eat. The rest is up for negotiation and compromise, such as this evening, when I presented Sloppy Joes made from a meatless, soy-based mix. Everyone's dinner disappeared in a hurry, with the sounds of contented chomping overriding any mutinous comments about the lack of animal content. This is one of those moments when I'm really excited to find an acceptable substitute for something that I've been missing. Another example: the other day I stumbled upon a packaged stuffing at Whole Foods. Now, you'd think stuffing would be a no-brainer--it's just bread crumbs, right? Yes, but...all of the prepared mixes contain either partially-hydrogenated oil, or chicken broth, or both. So when I picked up the package, resigned to scanning the ingredients and putting it right back on the shelf as usual, I was elated to be able to actually bring it home instead. Thanksgiving dinner is Derek's favorite meal of the entire year, so I thought he'd be very pleased to have a repeat of it as a surprise.

The next hurdle was gravy, which some folks can live without, but we tend to ladle over almost everything on the Thanksgiving plate. All of the bottled gravies on the mass-supermarket shelves contain the aforementioned two no-nos. But a trip to my local Roots Market netted me a vegetarian alternative. Yay! Now, in order that I might fully participate in the big Faux Feast, I just needed to get around the...well...turkey issue. Here, Tofurkey is the obvious choice...but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. (Besides the incredibly dorky name, which is a huge Strike One, my family absolutely puts their collective metaphorical foot down at the mention of tofu in any form...even smothered in gravy.) Therefore I went with soy chicken patties, which we've had before, and nobody minds (incredibly, it really does "taste like chicken"...and did I mention it will be swimming in gravy anyway?) Having assembled all of the necessary elements for our dinner, I was almost home-free...but I made one fatal error. You see, I always post a list on the calendar--mostly to remind myself, I didn't think anyone else actually even glanced at it--of what I plan to serve for dinner each night of the week. In retrospect, I should have known Derek would eyeball it, since the boy always wants to know exactly what his next meal will consist of (and precisely when it will be available, if possible). Here was my mistake: I wrote "turkey" next to the Thursday slot. "Hey, Mom", he curiously inquired, "what does that mean, in quotations?" Oh, drat! So I quickly explained that it was really a chicken-substitute, but hastened to remind him that he had eaten it before and liked it. (I promise!) He looked down his nose at me with an expression of mild skepticism, shook his head, and commented dryly, "Vegetarian Thanksgiving in December...we are a messed up family."

Okay fine, wise guy, but how much do you want to bet that cruelty-free, planet-friendly, environmentally-responsible spread looks fantastic at about 6:30 on Thursday night...when you're starrrrving? Until then, I probably need to make another run to the store...for more fruit...and yogurt...and chips...(sigh...)

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Musically Speaking...

Derek, who has been my own Little Drummer Boy (okay, not so "little" these days, but still banging on things...) practically since birth, finally got the chance to put his rhythm and talent to use in an organized way when he reached 6th grade. That's right, I'm talking about that shining example of culture and accomplishment: the Middle School Band! (Yeah, I may be overselling it a bit...so it's a few steps down from the National Symphony Orchestra, you gotta start somewhere, right?) Now, we narrowly escaped--I mean "missed the fulfilling opportunity the Elementary School Music Program offered", since the teacher there only allowed one percussionist. So after Derek expressed an interest in taking Band as one of his classes in 6th grade, I emailed the Director during the Summer to ask her if she accepted drummers. Her response was a warm, enthusiastic, "YES, I would love to have him!" Well, alrighty then, I thought to myself, that settles it! When I told the mother of Derek's best friend (incidentally the boy who happened to have been the lone Elementary School drummer), she described the Middle School Band Director in glowing terms. In fact, before school even began, I was treated to heaps of glowing praise--no, make that gushing testimonials--about this lady's skill and dedication. "Don't worry," I heard more than once, "when she gets finished with them, it sounds like real music!" (Evidently the 4th and 5th graders sometimes played with more gusto than...tunefulness. I'm so grateful we skipped that part!)

Off Derek went to Middle School, where for the first time in his life he received formal musical instruction for 45-minutes every single day. Armed with several sets of new sticks and a practice pad, he (and his best bud) studied proper techniques and procedures while learning a set of songs for the performance they would present in December. Then suddenly, the date of the Winter Concert peeked around the corner. Of course it would mark Derek's first ever public appearance as a Band Member of any kind, but even more significantly...he would be required to wear a white button-down shirt, black pants, and dress shoes. Why do I even mention this? Simply because this child managed to make it to age 11-1/2 without owning ANY of those items! He looked like a young businessman when all decked out in his "finery." (Well, either that, or a waiter!) On the evening of the Big Show, Husband and I strolled into the gymnasium with high hopes...but also fingers crossed. After all, the 6th-Grade Band includes kids from 3 different elementary schools, who just started playing together in September. (On top of that, Derek told me some of them had never played instruments before that! Others, like Derek, might not have ever played in front of a crowd...which might lead to an...interesting...sound...)

We got ourselves situated and watched the musicians file in and take their places. When Derek seemed to be scanning the crowd--surreptitiously looking for Mom and Dad, I guessed--I gave him a discreet, waist-high wave. He acknowledged this with a dignified nod, then busied himself arranging his sheet music. (Again, I want Parental Points for behaving in a non-embarrassing way in public. Please record it on my Scoresheet so I can build up a reserve...for future potentially-unavoidable incidents that may arise...mwah hah hah!) Finally the Director stepped up to the podium to kick off the entertainment...and I have to say, those 11 and 12-year olds sounded darn near professional! The advance billing was absolutely right, Ms. Director IS a miracle worker! After we knew our ears weren't going to be assaulted, we were able to relax and actually appreciate the concert. It was also amusing to watch the percussion section scurry around between numbers, switching places so they each got a turn with the Bass Drum, Snare Drum, and (I'm not kidding) Triangle. (Believe it or not, Derek said that was the hardest to play...since it required you to hold your arm up for such a long time! Who knew?)

So we all not only survived, but thoroughly enjoyed the first of Derek's Middle School Band Concerts (the worst side-effect being a numb tushie from those darn rock-hard bleacher seats). And I will add my voice to the relieved-and-thankful swell of Parental Band Boosters, who feared a night of discord and disharmony, but were granted a welcome interlude of symphonic delight instead. So far, 6th Grade Band...rocks!

Friday, December 9, 2011

Mathematically Speaking...

Growing up, I was the oldest of three siblings in my family. So, not only did I experience life from the Firstborn Perspective, but also quite a large age-gap separated me from my sister (7 years, to be exact). That meant, for one thing, that there just wasn't a whole lot of useful knowledge or applicable skills I could pass on from, say, a 12-year old to a 5-year old. I believe that's one reason why watching my own sons interact often warms my heart...while making me giggle. Riley (3 years younger) picks up on his brother's Middle School Humor (charming as that may be, currently providing a heavy rotation of Justin-Bieber-mocking jokes), Pre-Teen Boy Lingo (which can be an "epic fail" or "totally beast" depending on the situation--don't ask me, I'm studying, but not completely fluent yet), and even Academic Vocabulary. (This might explain why my 8-year old sometimes sounds like a little professor, such as when he requested to play with his DS until 8:45 before school, was granted the extra time, and responded matter-of-factly, "Thanks, Mom! I love privileges.")

During the course of Homework Time, Riley gets exposed to whatever concepts Derek happens to be working on in class. For instance, Derek has been learning about integers, and how to perform mathematical operations with positive and negative numbers. One night as he tackled his homework, he told Riley he was dealing with equations. A puzzled Riley naturally wanted to know, "What's an equation?" So Derek read him the first problem from his worksheet: x + 7 = 1. Riley furrowed his brow in thought, and began talking it through out loud: "Hmm, it has to be a negative number...-6? Because isn't it just like saying 7-6=1?" Um...yeah. (Derek's response was a delighted, "Thanks, Riley, for the answer to #1!") But wait, it gets worse. A Facebook friend (who happens to be a High School Math Teacher), posted this cartoon, which I personally found hilarious. (Yeah, I know, total Dork Joke, what can I say?) I showed it to both boys and explained that it was funny because you can't take the square root of -1, thus by Math Definition it's called an "imaginary number"--get it, ha ha? And they kind of gave me the weak chuckle ("suuurrrre, Mom--whatever you say...") so I thought it would quickly be forgotten. But the next night, Husband was harassing Riley--I mean "horsing around in a typical roughhouse Male Fashion"--and when Riley decided he'd had enough, he declared that "Mom was now his Preferred Parent (his words, I am NOT making that up) and Dad was...the Square Root of Negative 1! Now, while we were all rolling around on the floor in hysterics that Riley had even A) memorized and B) thrown that term out there, we had to wonder: what does that even mean? Dad's Parental Ranking has sunk so low as to be...imaginary? Dad's not as important as a Real Number? What? (Man, Math Insults are their own brand of...confusing, aren't they?)

All I know is, I'm gonna watch my back, because Riley might come up with something even worse if I fail to retain his favor. Hold on, I have a great idea as to how I can cement the Permanent Preferred Parent designation! I'll just offer Riley some...pi! (Hahahahaha! Oops. I guess it's obvious where the Nerd Genes come from...but I still crack myself up!)

Monday, December 5, 2011

All is Calm, All is Bright...

Well fa la la, my friends, it's December! And you know what that means: time for decking the halls, and gobbling sugarplums (whatever the heck those may be), and generally making merry. And in the calmer moments of the holiday season (if there are in fact any of those) I like to try to stop careening around like an over-caffeinated elf for 10 seconds or so and reflect on the true meaning of this time of year. What's really important, here? Sparkly decorations? 10,000-calories feasts? Fancy new toys? Well, sure! Wait, no, I mean of course not! I know this one...oh yeah! Catching up with friends, reconnecting with family, and nourishing your spiritual side, whatever form that may take.

With this in mind, I began planning for our annual Holiday Open House, an event that, while it never fails to bring much "comfort and joy" (hey, just for kicks, let's see how many Christmas songs I can work into this post, shall we?) also causes me massive stress each year. Granted, I do recognize that it's 100% self-inflicted drama, as I concoct an ambitious scheme involving multiple kinds of food with varying preparation times and degrees of difficulty. By the time I've scurried around to different stores to secure the ingredients and undertaken the actual assembling of the edibles, I'm already frazzled and tired, which ends up ensuring that I don't enjoy my own "reindeer games" as much as I should. Why do I insist upon doing this to myself, you may wonder? I guess it's because I've always had this notion that--as an intelligent, detail-oriented Adult Female--I just ought to be a natural Hostess Extraordinaire and be able to pull off magical Feats of Entertaining. (Logically, I know that's utterly ridiculous...I mean it's not like I have a degree in Crafts and Cooking from...Ladies' Finishing School, right?)

But with my newfound (even if most likely temporary) sense of self-awareness and inner peace, I reached a moment of astonishing insight into my own character. I suddenly realized with crystal clarity: I am NOT Martha Stewart! (Now let's all pause for a second to breathe a collective sigh of heartfelt relief...for oh-so-many reasons!) I will never pull off a 25-step appetizer recipe. I absolutely refuse to create adorable little napkin-holder-thingies from fabric scraps and a hot-glue gun, just so the table can look more festive. And you know what? I could not care less! Much, much more importantly, my friends and family will still show up, have a complete blast at my shindig, and at the end of the day, will still love me just the same. (I know: DUH! But for me, it was a freakin' revelation, I tell ya.) So what did I do this year to get ready for the event? One word: C-O-S-T-C-O. That place is a veritable wonderland for the lazy--um, smart--Party Planner. (One example of many: they carry what is possibly the best item I have ever seen: pre-cut cheese slices, sized to fit on crackers. Seriously? That's soooo brilliant! Now if they only sold "figgy pudding"...)

Once I laid out the spread and had time to relax (yay!) and await the arrival of my guests, I was struck by one final bit of personal knowledge, something admittedly so obvious I should have recognized it all along: my specialty lies in envisioning the desired outcome ("enough food for a medium-sized throng of people"), drafting a plan of action (i.e: "choose menu"), and implementing the necessary procedures for success (which we now know means simply "shop at Costco"...and "artfully arrange food on table") rather than "preparing a Gourmet Banquet from scratch". In other words, if you need anything organized, I'm your girl...but if you want something flambeed, souffled, or...decoupaged (yeah, like I even know what that means) you're on your own! Now let's just step away from the glitter-paint and have another cannoli (made from a Costco kit, naturally)! After all, it is the "most wonderful time of the year"!