Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Life Skills in the Modern Age

My boys are currently soaking up some kiddie R & R, enjoying a week-long Spring Break from school. (Because hey, the two surprise, bonus weeks off in February for snow-related...nonsense...weren't enough, ya know?) They have homework, but they also have the gift of plenty of time in which to complete it. Which is good, because the last experience I had with "attempting to help my child do his best work"...turned into quite a standoff...a Battle of Scholastic Wills, you might say.

It started innocently enough--I was doing something on my laptop in the spare room when Riley showed up with his notebook, to sprawl out on the guest bed and work. In the interest of keeping the audience up-to-the-minute with play-by-play commentary (for which he is well-known) he informed me that he needed to compose a paragraph. (I don't recall the topic...or which class it was for...but I was totally paying attention, I swear!) He appeared to be industriously scribbling away for a while...until he paused to ask me, "How do you spell 'possession'?" Rather than instantly providing him with the answer (and so promoting laziness...and dependence...and...probably a host of other damaging academic and personal habits) I first asked, "How do you think it's spelled?"

He sighed in a rather "Oh, here we go again, Mom's being difficult" fashion and said, "I don't know...p-o-s-s-e...t-i-o-n?" (Hmm...good try...and actually, that combination of letters DOES make the right sound...if only English weren't so...random and ridiculous. Sorry about that, kiddo...) So I tried another tack. "Okay, how do you spell just 'possess'?" But at the end of a long day, he had limited patience for my little reindeer games, and just wanted to move on, so he refused to take a stab. I was therefore left with no other recourse than to resort to the tack my own father would have taken (um...make that "did take" ...many, many times in my youth, in fact...) so I shrugged and said, "Fine, you have two choices: write it down several ways to see what seems right...or look it up."

Now, in my mind, of course, "look it up" triggers flashbacks to the 20-pound Webster's that dominated about half a shelf in my parents' downstairs bookcase when I was growing up. You had to haul that sucker out, drop it on the floor at your feet (because you couldn't get it much further, really) and start turning enormous chunks of pages to get to the one teeny tiny little word you needed. Good. Times. But in my determination to "teach my son a lesson" I had totally forgotten that we don't even own (or..."possess"...hahahaha!) a dictionary in book form these days. So what did the 21st-century student do? He picked up his phone from the bed next to him, opened up his messaging app, and began the process of using the keyboard to Swype the word he wanted. Once he got a few letters in, he simply flicked his glance downward--to where the auto-correct program helpfully gave him choices, based on what it guessed what he was trying to say--and selected the right one.

Then he gleefully told me how he'd solved the problem and added with a sly grin, "I texted it to you so you could see it." Oh. Good. Grief. I don't know if I should applaud your resourcefulness...or condemn your smart-aleck attitude. Sigh. A little of both, I think. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to run spell-check on this post, to catch and correct my typing errors...then perhaps I'll text Riley the results, just for fun...


Sunday, March 29, 2015

A lotta fun...in a little time...

You know those uncommon occasions when a crazy mish-mash of plans--involving complicated components like...traveling across state lines, 300 miles each way...communicating with an expansive cast of characters from various time periods and aspects of my life..setting up events in multiple locations...and squishing it all into 3 days--somehow, astoundingly comes together? Yeah, I just had a weekend like that.

The whole shebang got off the ground thanks to a Mom Friend--one of the original 8 who made up Derek's playgroup way back when the kids were infants. She contacted the gang to propose a surprise reunion, in support of another member who's going through a tough medical situation right now. Well, once the Wisconsin and Georgia contingents had committed, I knew there was no way I was going to let the villainous highway (that would be Route 95...specifically in Virginia...Fredericksburg, to be even more exact...or as it shall be known, the Pit of Despair) keep me from joining them.

After that was penciled in, I made it my mission to arrange a way to spend each breakfast, lunch, and dinner with a different group of people I wanted to see. When the dust settled, here's how it all went down:

Friday: leave Chapel Hill by 9:30 a.m. and drive like the proverbial bat out of you-know-where to try and beat that most dreaded of phenomena...Rush Hour in D.C. Once I was almost all the way to my dad's house, I stopped at Sugarloaf Mountain to meander through the woods for a while before finishing my trek. Then it was time for Pizza Night (a beloved tradition that began when I was in 10th grade, and needed quick sustenance between arriving home from field hockey practice and racing back to school to watch the varsity football game). After that, my sister, my niece and I headed out to the theater for a girls' movie date, watching the entirely entertaining Cinderella.

Saturday: return to the old hometown to meet up with an interpreter buddy from my former job. There was coffee, there was catching up and sharing news...it was lovely. From there I joined the Playgroup-Without-Kids for an emotional and awesome 5-hour lunch. Seriously, it's been a looooong time since we've been together....and some of us haven't seen each other in years...but it felt to me like no time had passed at all. Well....except for the fact that our eldest "babies" are now 15-year old 9th graders, of course! At one point the friend who had summoned us all laughed and noted, "Back in the day, it was all 'I'm not sure if my baby is nursing the right way'....and now we're picking each other's brains about stuff like Internet security and peer pressure!" And once again we marveled at how blessedly rare and special our circumstances are: a gaggle of women...basically thrown together randomly because our kids were all born at about the same time...who all like each other and get along like gangbusters. Can you get luckier than that? I think not...

But wait, we're still not done with Saturday yet. After the mommy bonding broke up, I motored northward towards my next engagement: dinner with some more dear friends in downtown Frederick. We were dining at a farm-to-table restaurant. (I know, right? Do these people know me or WHAT? And by the way, why not have one more social item on my agenda that revolves around a meal? Okay, in my defense, I took a brief detour on the way, in order to squeeze in a walk...scoffing at the 30*, with 20 mph winds...or shivering uncontrollably...whatever...)  So, a girl's gotta eat...might as well be a delicious portabella mushroom sandwich with some kind of fancy garlic mayonnaise and pesto...and a tart-cherry flavored ale, yeah? Some more yakkity yakking...a little NCAA basketball on TV...and it was time for a snooze-o-rama.

Which brings us to Sunday: one more coffee date before I blew the (almost literal--dang, it was frigid!)) Maryland popsicle stand. This one involved a college pal...to go along with the caffeine and conversation. After sharing the full scoop, if you will, on our respective families, we said "so long until Summer" and went our separate ways. For me, this meant crossing my fingers and imploring the Gods of the Open Road for my southbound path through the state-beginning-with-V to be a model of smooth sailing...rather than a parking lot. Thus it transpired that I made my way home...Big Gulp in hand, new memories saved, stories filed away to retell to Team WestEnders upon my return. It was the kind of getaway--where everything goes darn near perfectly--that only happens once in a long while. And I'm sure I'll appreciate it even more after I have a chance to rest and recover from the whirlwind!

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Trouser Tales (?!)

Today we're going to talk about that most humble of garments...the one that we throw on every morning automatically...the article that quietly and faithfully covers our legs and protects them from the elements...the item for which no one even spares a second thought (unless of course they somehow forget to don them, but that's a whole other story...or recurring nightmare better addressed by a licensed therapist)...that's right, of course I'm referring to PANTS. Why, you might wonder, is this even worth mentioning? Well, believe it or not, the topic came up not once, but twice in the past couple of days in our household. (And also...it's been an otherwise slow news week, so you get what you get, okay?)

First we have Husband. Now, you might recall that when we moved to NC, his job became home-based. Thus he has a cozy office downstairs in what would be the "formal dining room" (if we were the sort of family that would ever use it as such...yeah, "workspace" seemed a much more reasonable way to re-purpose the area). This allows him the freedom to just roll out of bed, pull on a set of sweats, and consider himself ready for his professional duties. We have often joked that the colleagues and clients he IMs or teleconferences with not only can't see, but also couldn't care less how he's attired. But--all kidding aside--early on in his new work paradigm I set the incontrovertible House Rule that he must, at all times, at least be wearing a full outfit. After all, though he might be toiling away in the comfort of his own domicile, rather than occupying a desk in the company HQ building...this is still a No Nudity Job Site. (I know...this does seem to go without saying...but I still felt it needed to be crystal clear...just in case...)

Well, it just so happens that every once in a while he is called into the nearest actual-rather-than-virtual office (in Durham) for a meeting...or this week, Managerial Training...and Whatnot. So you'd think that after spending so many hours alone in front of his computer, he'd absolutely relish the opportunity to mingle with other human beings in person, right? And he probably does, but the only comment he made was a melodramatically anguished, "This means I have to...WEAR PANTS!" After I gently pointed out that, in fact, he does this every day (you know, since it seemed to have inexplicably slipped his mind...) he clarified, "Yeah, but...dress pants!" I admit I could not be held up as a shining pillar of wifely support when I snapped back, "Oh, you poor dear! Now go put on some nice clothes, get out of the house, and practice interacting with real, live adults for a change!" Oh, and...um...have a good day, honey...)

However, I was definitely more sympathetic when the 6th grader came to me with his dilemma. It seems he had to participate in a debate in Language Arts class, and his teacher very specifically instructed them to show up in--you guessed it--long pants. Riley expressed concern, because while jeans were deemed acceptable...he doesn't own any. He explained this to Ms. M, who assured him that windpants would be fine as well. Great, problem solved, right? Sure...except that there's a veeerrry fine line between "windpants" and "sweatpants"...and after both of us intensely scrutinized the contents of his drawer, we decided that what resides there falls squarely into the latter category. Fortunately I remembered that the solution lay mere steps away, in Riley's closet, where several pairs of hand-me-down pants hung neglected and all-but-forgotten. These were leftovers from Derek's season of attending about a dozen of his friends' mitzvahs--2 options: both black Dockers, one casual cotton twill, one fancier polyester/rayon/wool blend.

This raised a hue and cry from Riley, of course--"Ewwww! I don't waaaannnna wear dress pants!" (What are you, channeling your father? Suck it up for a couple of hours, dude! Oh, wait...I was being compassionate, right? Oops...) After reminding him that this was indeed his only choice...as I was not under any circumstances going to be traveling to a retail establishment to purchase him a pair of pants to wear for ONE DAY...I got him to try on the offending apparel. It's worth noting, here, that Derek wore these at age 13. And because he'd had a growth spurt already, I was forced to buy Size 16 to accommodate his height. Riley is 11--taller than his brother was at the same age, but just as lean. Aaannnnd...the cotton pair wouldn't button. But the second pair--lighter weight material, softer feel, with a more forgiving hook closure--fit him pretty darn perfectly. So after the obligatory whining about being required to tuck in his shirt (per the Debate Regulations, evidently)...there stood my middle schooler...looking bigger...and older....and waaaaay more grown up...than he should...or his mother was prepared for...(as usual...sigh...).

And that's far more hoopla...about pants...than you ever expected to occur in one family, yeah? I'm happy to report that Husband seems to be surviving his mandatory wardrobe restrictions this week. And Riley? Naturally he wore the Dockers to school, kept them on through his 2nd period debate presentation...then immediately crumpled them into a wad, stuffed them into his backpack, and swapped them for the shorts he'd stowed there in the morning. All is well...and back to normal...and we made it through the Great Pants Panic unscathed...whew!

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Rabbit Food...and More

You could say I'm in the distinct minority in our house in several ways, being the only female as well as the only vegetarian. You might be surprised, however, by just how many chats the 3 carnivores and I have, around the topic of "plant-based nutrition". Some of these are quite simple...yet serious...such as me reminding Derek to include a piece of fruit in his afterschool Carbfest O'Rama at snack time. Others are downright ridiculous (as is probably inevitable in a house full of Male Humor...and believe me, I use that term veeerrrry loosely) like when Husband expounds upon the effect of asparagus on one's...ahem...."urinary odor and tint". (No, sadly I'm not making this up...terribly appropriate dinnertime banter, yeah?) And let's not forget the many, many discussions that have been waged, touching on the subject of "Oh, How We Loathe Tofu...Let Us Count the Ways". (Tragically, despite my concentrated and sincere efforts, I have been unsuccessful in converting the masses to an appreciation of fermented soybean products...)

Recently we've had a new reason to talk about nature's bounty. Riley's middle school participated in a promotion, whereby they would receive $10 each time a family signed up for a delivery service called The Produce Box. It's a Raleigh-based cooperative that supports area farmers by purchasing their crops and passing on the fresh, local, in-season fruits and veggies to the public....neatly packaged...and placed right on your doorstep. I had considered joining one of these years ago, in Maryland, but was reluctant to commit to it. Basically, I feared trying to figure out what to do in the Winter...when we would get a container full of, you know, turnips...and parsnips...and...who knows, maybe rutabaga? Not only is there a limit to what you can do with these items...I balked at the effort it would require to determine just how the heck to cook and serve these...for months at a time.

So one of the things that excited me about this particular company is that each Friday you are allowed to choose among a set of offerings, based on what your needs are for the coming week. For instance, you can get the regular group of stuff, which includes typical salad components (so far we've had grape tomatoes, cucumbers, and lettuce) as well as whatever else is currently growing either outside or in a greenhouse. (We're already getting some strawberries here, and the ubiquitous North Carolina staple: sweet potatoes. And next time we even get peanuts!) Or you can select the "adventurous option" which pledges to include more unusual stuff. And if you're just not feeling the fruit and veggie vibe that particular week, you can instead go for such cool alternatives as the Breakfast Box (with bagels and bacon--Husband lobbied HARD for this one next week), the Smoothie Box, or the Pizza Prep Box. In addition, if there's a food you don't care for in the group of items you do choose, you can swap it out for another item. Or at any time you can add in something that sounds good--loaves of bread, locally produced jams, chipotle lime goat cheese (which Riley and I practically drooled over) or of course any fruit or vegetable you need more of for any reason.

Well, this is just super-cool...not to mention all kinds of granola, tree-hugging fun, to browse the website and decide what will be showing up on your porch on Thursday. I mentioned before that it has sparked a pronounced increase in the amount of conversation...about edible flora. The first incident occurred when we were unpacking our initial box, and Riley spotted the lettuce. He read aloud, sputtering in disbelief, "Hydroponic...Bibb...lettuce? That's the silliest thing I've ever heard! What does that even MEAN?" (See there? Who knew vegetables could be so educational?) Then there was the argument--um "passionate exchange"--in which Husband vowed he would never, E-V-E-R eat a beet. No way would he even suffer it to pass his lips...no matter how I prepared it. Unfortunately, he indulged in his little rant in front of Derek....whom I assured that he would, in fact, be required to taste a beet...at least once...before making a rational decision as to how he felt about them.

Next we had the...Kale Conundrum. You see, kale was included in our first box, and I elected to keep it in, even though the rest of the family had a serious bias against the innocent leafy stalks. (How they had developed this, I have no idea, as again, they have little to no experience with actually consuming kale. So I blame it on Media Overkill--they've decided to hate kale because it's been so hyped...or whatever...) How to win them over to the Dark...Green...Side? Make kale chips, of course. And I'd have to say it worked like a charm: when Riley tried one, his eyes widened, and he went back for a handful. Then he declared, "Let's sub something out next week...and get more kale!" Wow. It just goes to show you, olive oil and salt really do transform even the most suspicious vegetable into a delectable treat!

Finally, we had the...Sweet Potato Problem. Again, the Male Posse isn't too fond of the orange tubers, while they've grown on me (ha! yeah, I accept responsibility for that one...) over time. However, tucked into our basket of goodness this week was a small piece of paper...with recipes. One of these happened to be for something called Sweet Potato CAKE. "Whoo hoo, now you're speaking my language!" I thought. When I shared the good news with Husband, though, he wrinkled his nose. "Potatoes...and cake? That just sounds so wrong!" I earnestly tried to help him understand by making a comparison, "You know, it's like...zucchini bread--you don't even taste the vegetable, and it's yummy!" He mulishly countered, "But....that's bread...and this is cake..." Exasperated, I cut him off, "It's the SAME CONCEPT!" In his most reasonable tone, he replied, "Then just tell me it's bread." Slapping my forehead, I conceded, "Guess what? I'm making sweet potato bread!" At which point he nodded smugly, turned on his heel, and headed upstairs. Sigh...

So I made the sweet potato...what have you...for tonight, since some of Derek's friends are coming over to watch the NCAA Tournament...and I figured there's no better group of people to spring something like this on than a ravenous pack of teenage boys. (I still contend that falls into the cake category due to the fact that I chose to frost it...because when faced with the dilemma of whether to slather on a layer of buttercream or not....well, there's really no question...) The consensus? Raves all around, from the Home and Visiting teams alike. There's no doubt I'll be making it again...but altering the recipe to be just a tad healthier. (Seriously, I thought I read it wrong when I saw 2 cups of sugar...gulp...and 1-1/2 CUPS of oil. What the what? Um...yeah...I think we can do a little bit better than that...)

But all-in-all, I'd say our first Produce Box could only be counted as a rousing success. From the nightly salad to the crispy kale to the sweet potato...baked good...we thoroughly enjoyed our harvest. Bring on next week's fruit and veggie extravaganza!

See? C-A-K-E!!!!

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Yep, they've got class(es)...

The past week or so has left me feeling nostalgic (okay, not quite entirely, but...almost) for those simple byegone days of...Elementary School. You know what I'm talking about: when one academic year came to a close with little or no fanfare, and you enjoyed your time off in the Summer, and things just picked right back up again in September automatically. There were no "Graduation Requirements" to review...or "Course Selections" to research...or any other such confusing and exasperating...nonsense.

But the (much anticipated and welcomed) arrival of Spring brought (the far less popular) Registration Time along with it. Even with some misgivings as to how complicated it might be for us relative newbies, the process began smoothly. In fact Riley's Middle School procedure was completely painless, and required approximately 10 minutes of our precious time. Most of his standard classes are pre-designated anyway, and he has a limited number of options for his open slots. He merely had to number them in order of his favorites, and hope he gets his top 4 choices. Easy peasy.

Then...there was that whole High School shebang for future-Sophomore Derek. He brought home an innocuous pink paper (to give you cheerful, relaxed vibes, I'm sure...didn't work...) with a couple of lines already pre-filled. Seemed like an auspicious start--the English and Social Studies trajectories apparently follow some sort of pattern up to 10th grade. Just check the appropriate box for Regular or Honors, and you're done. Whew! But from there it gets a whole lot...murkier. For example, we didn't really have a clue what to put down for Math or Science. After wracking our collective brains for a moment or two, I sagely advised him to "Ask your teachers." (Yeah, yeah, admittedly "making it up as I went along"...but in fact this turned out to be what the counselors wanted you to do anyway. Yay, Mom! I mean, "Sure, I totally knew that!")

Once he got those recommendations, his Core Curriculum was set. Now it was time to focus on filling out the rest of his day with electives. But wait--you can't just pick stuff out of the online catalog...willy nilly! There are rules! You must accumulate a certain number of several different types of classes, to fulfill the requirements for obtaining a North Carolina diploma. Oh-kaaaay. So you need Art of some kind. And something called...CTE. What the hairy HECK is a CTE? Oh, Career and Technical Education--this encompasses things like health sciences, business and marketing skills, what used to be called Home Ec but is now referred to as Family and Consumer Sciences, and a whole lotta...computer...stuff.

Ay yi yi. Where does one even begin to decide what to commit to, with the overwhelming load of information available? Oh, right...with one's friends, of course. (Parent Duh!) Derek assured me that he'd quiz his Bus Stop Boys on what they'd tried, what they'd liked, what they were thinking about signing up for next year...etc. And believe it or not, he came home with a surprising wealth of...actually helpful details. So we jotted down a few choices--in pencil--for him to discuss during his brief face-to-face meeting with his counselor, at which time they would finalize the whole thing and enter it into the computer database (That's right: marking it down on your dreaded Permanent Record! Aaaargh! Choose wisely, young Jedi! Sorry...I was just caught up in the stress of it all for a moment there...I'm better now...)

After all this rigmarole...and the day before Derek was due to turn in the sheet...the Parent Information Meeting was finally held. (I know, right? Suuuuper timing! Just kidding--in all fairness, it was canceled and rescheduled several times by the Two Week Winter Event we experienced in February.) But if my brain wasn't already full enough before this little get-together...this put me right over the top. We heard about changes to the grading scale, (Yaaaaayyyy!) and the "weighting scale", (Whatever...I confess I didn't really understand this part so well....). Also they explained Virtual School classes, and the Dual Enrollment Program...and a long list of other topics that thankfully fall under the heading of "Important Stuff...I Can Figure Out at a Later Date".

Wow. All I can say is "I'm certainly glad I didn't blow off this meeting!" When I came home and relayed all of the pertinent facts to Derek, we finished his worksheet as fully as we could. I attached multiple sticky notes to it with the questions I wanted him to address with his counselor (the most burning of these being "Is it reaaalllly okay to take a Study Period again as a 10th Grader? Or is that discouraged as, you know, "Being an unmotivated Slacker, rather than a suitably Dedicated Student"?). Then I sent him off with a wave and a hearty "Good luck, honey!" And I suppose it went well, because he came home reporting that it was all over with, his selections were accepted...and she assured him there's no problem whatsoever with using another Study Period to round out your schedule.

Well, that's a relief. Now we can just relax, without worrying about this for a whole 'nother year. And on the further Bright Side, by the time Riley gets to High School, we'll probably be able to do this with our eyes closed...um, with one hand tied behind our backs? How about: without having to go to the Parent Meeting! I'll settle for that...

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Somewhat of a logistical nightmare...

If my life this week were an episode of Sesame Street—and it does feel that way, what with the…furry monsters…and schoolwork…and whatnot—the special word of the week would definitely be “SCHEDULE”. As in “that thing which rules my life”. Or “the item which is absolutely necessary for the sanity of a Household Manager who prefers to run a tight ship”. However, in this particular case, it also refers to “something that is being messed with by outside forces, who obviously don’t have the same….compulsion….I do, and who are currently ruining my carefully organized schemes with their lack of decision making, and/or communication. (What? Doesn’t everyone make detailed To-Do Lists, and cross things off, and rewrite or reorder the tasks—sometimes several times in a single day—to more accurately reflect what might actually get accomplished? Isn’t this totally normal, average behavior? Yeah, I know…just humor me, will ya?)

Here's the scenario: of course I wanted all of us on Team WestEnders to jump into life in North Carolina, and pursue interesting activities and new friends.  The boys joined soccer teams pretty much immediately, and so gained access to their own little sports fraternities. Then it was my turn to go in search of entertainment, and I found the walking enthusiasts…the hiking club…the Spanish group…the ASL conversationalists…and a dance class. (Because, hey, why not fill every spare minute? I just don’t do boredom very well…) Finally, Husband decided that things were settled enough (ha!) to sign up for an adult soccer league, so he’s playing this Spring as well.

And believe it or not, all of this…hoopla…is perfectly manageable…as long as we have all of the required information to fill out the Master Calendar and plan properly. That’s where we’re experiencing some…let's call it "not-our-fault difficulty"…at the moment. You see, Derek has been practicing with his team since December, and we always know what day, time, and venue. We even have his games penciled in (mostly…more on that a bit later).  The issue is that we don’t have Riley’s team’s schedule for matches yet—including the one that’s supposedly happening this weekend. (Yeah, that would be in 2 days...and counting down…)

This means that some days fall into the category of Crazy-But-Doable, like this evening, when Derek and Riley each had practice starting at 5:00, but at 2 separate fields, while Husband’s team was meeting at 6:00, somewhere else entirely. So, I dropped Derek off early, shuttled Riley to his field (a few minutes late, but whatever), waited for him to finish, then swung back around to pick up Derek (15 minutes after his session ended, but what can you do? Without some cool space-age technology, that is…Memo to Me: gotta find a Transporter…Thingie…like on Star Trek…) Then I raced them home—um “drove slowly and safely, obeying all traffic laws”…ish—shoved dinner (which I’d assembled earlier—yay, me) at them, and called over my shoulder as I breezed out the door to go get my Cardio Funk on, “Bye, guys! Dad should be home in about 10 minutes!”

And keep in mind: that’s the part we can actually handle with…relative…ease. Tomorrow night, Derek has a game in Raleigh, which Husband offered to cover, since it might be cold and rainy. (Thanks, dear!) From there, it gets...downright silly. Saturday morning I’m supposed to get together for my weekly walk with my fitness buddies at 10 a.m. Derek originally had a match scheduled for 3:00 in another town about 30 minutes away, (here we go) which conflicted with Husband’s contest (nearby) at 3:40. No worries—I’d be done long before then, and would simply get Derek to and from his game. 

But TODAY for some reason, the time was changed to 11 a.m.  So I can either stroll with my pals, or see my son play. Dang it! Worse: since the promised email about Riley’s theoretical game hasn’t arrived, we STILL have no idea if it’ll be Saturday or Sundaymorning or afternoon….close by or at some distant location…all of which prevents me from RSVPing to the Sunday 1 p.m. hiking trip that I wanted to attend. Ohhh, and lest I forget, the weather is predicted to possibly continue with general drizzly yuckiness into Saturday morning, so Derek’s match, which takes place on a grass pitch, could be canceled. But...my walkers will just move into the mall that’s conveniently adjacent to the trail. (Uh huh, how’s that for inspired? Meander, chat, window shop…stop for coffee…)


Is your head spinning? ‘Cuz mine feels like it’s on a merry-go-round…and not the fun kind, either. I’m serious—I need a flow chart…or a Venn diagram…or some such nonsense….to keep all of this straight. Hmm....and possibly an extra Family Chauffeur...and some of that java I mentioned earlier. I don't know about you, but I'm just gonna keep my fingers crossed that everyone arrives at the right place at the correct time--or thereabouts. And if we all make it home for dinner, I'll definitely call it a big old WIN!

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Signs (signs, everywhere the signs)

With all the chaos that has ensued from an unexpected "Winter Break...The Sequel" my brain has--not surprisingly--been a bit befuddled...and scattered...lately. (What day is it? Where am I going? Whaddya mean the kids are staying home AGAIN?) So, befitting my mental state, here are some random things I've noticed in the past week:

Signs That Our 2-week Winterlude Might be Good...And...O-V-E-R. (I'm sorry, excuse me whilst I knock wood...throw salt over my shoulder...attempt to type with crossed fingers...): The last vestiges of crusty snow have been vanquished from yards and parking lots. The precipitation a few days ago that was supposed to change over to sleet...didn't...giving us a more Spring-like day of torrential rain instead. And the boys were outside earlier in shorts and tee shirts on this 70* Sunday, throwing a baseball around...that is, until they paused for lunch...which they're currently enjoying alfresco on the screened-in porch.

On a related note, Signs That the Children Might Have Joined Me in the Anti-Winter Club: We had a delightful balmy day this past Wednesday, and when Derek returned home from school he reported in an exasperated tone, "All anyone wanted to talk about was 'I wish it was cold; I want snow!' And I was like, 'Guys, we HAD snow--it's not all that great. I'll take this kind of weather for the rest of the year!'" (This from the kid who whined a couple of months ago that I'd forced him to relocate to a place where he'd never see the frozen white stuff again...) Then when that icy mix was forecast for Thursday night, BOTH of them reacted with ear-splitting groans, followed by these words actually issuing from their mouths: "No! School better not be closed! I hope it's just a 2-hour delay." (Apparently a 14-day frigid season is just about enough for them, too...who knew?)

Signs That Derek is Getting (Even More) Comfortable in his New Hometown: Last night he was invited over to a friend's house around the corner for pizza...and to watch UNC take on Duke in a massive local rivalry game. (And can I just take a second to commend--and sincerely thank--the parents who welcomed seven 15-year old boys into their home...and FED them! Saints, I tell ya...) Now, being former Maryland residents, we have always supported the Terps. However, since they switched conferences, we are free--and have a clear conscience--to also root for the school that's situated approximately 3 miles from our front door. (Just as long as they're playing anyone besides UMD, it goes without saying...) What we shall N-E-V-E-R do...is rally behind that other university in Durham. So when I was lamenting that the contest started at 9, and Derek would get to bed pretty late, he fervently argued, "Mom, it was your idea to move here, to a college town, and this is a a huge game. So I have to stay...for the whole thing...that's just how it is!" Well. Alrighty then...Go, 'Heels!

Signs I (Fortunately) Haven't Forgotten Everything I Ever Learned: After last week's awesomely fun Spanish experience, this week it was time to shift gears and try the ASL group. While "group" turned out to be a misnomer (only the founding member showed up for this particular meeting) it was nice to "chat" with someone and to reassure myself I can, indeed, still sign after 10 months of not using it. (Next week: Swahili! Just kidding...)

And finally, (Further) Signs That My Baby is Officially Growing Up (I mean, besides the obvious fact that he's almost taller than me by this point): Just when I was convinced that Riley would most likely maintain his stuffed animal collection--oh, I don't know...until he went to college, maybe?--he decided of his own volition to whittle it down by just-over-a-third. (Couched in purposefully Riley-precise terms, you'll notice...) Mind you, I'm not suggesting that I'm opposed to him clearing out some clutter...ever. But it seems like every day he becomes just a little bit less...childlike...and a wee bit more...like a little man. (Okay, not so "little", but you know what I mean...) So we'll find someplace that will provide the creatures with nice homes and new children to love them. And I will continue to live in blissful denial about how much my sons are changing...yeah, that should work out fine, right? Sigh...

So there you have it, the contents of my Weekly Brain Purge. I feel so much...more organized! But then again...not enough to actually, you know, try to accomplish anything. Hey, we lost an hour of sleep last night, so the Signs point to it being time for...a nap!


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Vamos! (But...not quite yet...)

Each year, sometime in the Dead of Winter (a very unpopular subset of the cold season), I initiate the planning for our WestEnders Summer Vacation. On the upside, this gives me something exciting to do when it's still frigid and dreary outside in our little corner of the world. On the other hand, once all the details of the fun are figured out...it means 5 or 6 months of breathless anticipation as we bide our time until we embark on our adventure. This year we're picking up a notion that was originally supposed to happen in 2014--until it was supplanted by the un-postpone-able Move to NC, which kind of commandeered all of our available resources at the time. (Hey, we got to go somewhere, and explore a new place...as far as vacation parameters, it sort of counts, right? Yeah, the kids didn't think so, either...)

So, where are we thinking of traveling to in the Summer of 2015? The lovely Central American country of: Costa Rica. This has actually loooong been on Husband's and my list of Must-See Locales. We're excited to visit a rainforest--with all of its fascinating creatures and greenery--firsthand, and I'm keen to view a volcano (from a safe distance...as recommended by the trusty Tour Guide, of course). Throw in the possibility of a beach, and you have 4 potentially verrrry happy campers. (Metaphorically, that is...without the actual, you know, "camping"...uh-uh, give me a resort, baby....this is my once-a-year escape from my regular life, after all...but I digress...)

Usually my first step is to sit down with my laptop and commence researching. I aim to learn what I can about our destination and get as much information as possible about logistics, before I take all my data in to the local AAA office and consult with one of their experts to pin down the nitty gritty. This worked just fine and dandy for past getaways to Disney World, Mexico, and the Bahamas (via cruise ship)...however, I quickly became aware when delving into Costa Rica...that I have abso-freakin'-lutely NO prior knowledge about this country. For example, I didn't know what region we should focus on...or which airport to fly into...or where to stay in order to best access the sites and activities that most interested us. The depth of my ignorance was, frankly, overwhelming.

At the end of my semi-fruitless Googling session, I at least had a couple of maps to print, and a vague idea of perhaps where I instinctively thought maybe we should steer toward. (How's that for...non-specific?) What to do next? Only the obvious: go see an actual Travel Specialist, throw all of my questions and requirements at him or her, and humbly accept the assistance I so dearly needed. Thus I told Mr. D what we wanted to do and see....and made sure to emphasize that for this particular trip, with 2 adolescent boys in tow, an all-inclusive option was absolutely essential. (Otherwise, we've discovered from past travels, "relax and have fun" has a distressing tendency to translate loosely into "Oh, it's been 2 hours already? Time to feed the ravenous children....AGAIN...")

As it turns out, my gut was not wrong about the area that would be best for our first foray into Costa Rica: the region called Guanacaste. There's much to recommend it, including a rainforest, a river, an active volcano...and a Pacific coastline with a plethora of beaches. (They're speaking my language--in either English OR Spanish, I'll take it!) The burning question (no pun intended...this time...) was whether we preferred to locate our Home Base at the shore, or closer to the volcano--but either one we chose, we could take day trips to the other. Knowing my family as I do, I had a clear idea what the consensus would be, but I put that query on hold until a Family Meeting at dinnertime, when I could present my research, bring everyone up to speed, and make some crucial decisions as a team.

Well, would you look at that, progress has been made! At least I now have some intel on where to fly into (Liberia--just...not the one in Africa with the history of crazy dictators, thank goodness...), the identity and location of the volcano (Arenal...somewhere in the middle-ish of the region, 3 hours or so from the ocean), ideas for several excursions that sound entertaining, and the names of several nice hotels directly on the coast. Armed with all of this--and a shiny, colorful booklet with tons of pictures and descriptions for everyone to peruse--I approached Team WestEnders to share my findings. As expected, everyone voted to center our Costa Rican experience around the surf and sand. As Riley put it, "I don't want to sleep where the gigantic spiders are!" Hmm....point taken. Derek was equally adamant, but for less serious reasons: "The beach is where all the hot chicks will be!" (...he said with an enormous, cheesy grin...sigh...)

So it seems like now "all" we have to do is: select an all-inclusive hotel...reserve our airline tickets...pre-book the Arenal day trip, to make sure we get 4 of the limited spaces...oh, renew the boys' passports!...and then sit back in a holding pattern...until July. Are we there yet?