Thursday, August 31, 2017

Total eclipse of the...never mind...

With all the...personal hullabaloo...stirring up Camp WestEnders over the past several weeks, some of the more globally-relevant news items inadvertently got left out of the narrative, such as….what was it…oh yeah, just the first total solar eclipse to grace the continental U.S. with its presence since 1979. Furthermore, the last one wasn’t even visible where I lived when growing up--and this time, we were going to be in a region of 93% totality….so you can understand that it was kind of a Big Deal around here, and folks were pretty doggone psyched up about the whole thing. In fact, some people apparently decided that “almost” simply wasn’t good enough, so we began to hear stories of those who made plans to trek into the path of the full eclipse, in places such as western NC and Charleston, South Carolina.

Then, in the weeks leading up to the phenomenon, warnings started popping up all over the Internet, about the catastrophic eye damage that could occur if you were…unwise (I read this as “idiotic”, which the doctors were either too polite...or too timid...to say) enough to gaze directly at the giant, glowing celestial body, even while it was partially obscured--without proper protection.. Not to worry, though, as our family was prepared, thanks to…my co-worker’s wedding. 

You see, my colleague is a Research Scientist, and her husband is a Physicist, so when they got married, several weeks prior to the eclipse, they had the brilliant idea to provide NASA-approved cardboard glasses at each guest’s seat, as their wedding favors. (I know, right? How AWESOME is that?! And I swear, you have never seen such an ecstatic room full of nerds, as we all found our place settings, discovered the specs, and collectively gasped in delight...)

As E-Day approached, the discussions among everyone in our area became more focused, with people wondering where to get the best unobstructed view of the sky, how traffic was going to be during the hours of the heavenly show…and whether the eyewear they planned to use was adequate to safeguard their vision while they tried to enjoy the rare occurrence in the stratosphere. (Not everyone obtained their gear from friends with advanced degrees in science-related fields, as we did…we were just the super-lucky ones!)

In the end, three-fourths of our little clan opted to watch from the comfort of our own front yard, basically. Derek, on the other hand, asked Husband if he could accompany some of his buddies to Kenan Stadium (the football venue on UNC’s campus) to hang out and catch the action. When his father asked him why he wanted to do this, the teenager glibly replied, “You know…an iconic location for an iconic event!” Apparently Husband responded with a skeptical expression, prompting Derek to admit, “Yeah, not really….it was all Rick’s idea.” (Yeeeeaaaahhh, that explains a lot, since historically, a number of the friend group’s…questionable notions…can be traced to this particular individual’s--ahem--“brainstorms”.)

Husband eventually gave him permission to go, but asked how Derek intended to actually watch the eclipse unfold. “We’ll make a viewer out of a cereal box. Rick found a video that showed how to do it on YouTube!” Derek brightly assured him. Far from alleviating his concerns, however, this statement alarmed Husband enough that he immediately offered Derek one of our pairs of glasses instead. I mean, stop and think about it for a second: did he truly expect us to trust the…crafting talents…much less direction-following abilities…possessed by a pack of adolescent boys? (Pffftt…puh-lease…)

At last, after much anticipation, the hour arrived, and the moon commenced its slow march towards blocking its bigger, brighter solar-system-cousin. And overall, it was…pretty cool…if a bit…underwhelming. We honestly kind of expected it to get much darker, but the effect was more like late afternoon, or maybe twilight, than full-on nighttime. It did create some awesome shadows, which we had a chance to appreciate while loitering in the road, admiring the free-of-charge, public access “space programming”.


In other words, to get an idea of what “totality” actually looked like, we had to rely on news coverage from the Pacific Northwest, or a bit further south of here….which I have to admit, was utterly awe-inspiring, and I get why people wanted so badly to experience it in person. But hey, at least we got to say we were around for a “near-total eclipse”, right? AND, we didn’t get stuck in horrific gridlock returning home from our eclipse-chasing-adventures, as I heard from a number of my pals. Finally, of course, our peepers are still healthy after we faithfully utilized our uber-stylish wedding favors.

To sum up: it may not have been mind-blowing, but I’m gonna go ahead and call it a Win. Besides, the next one that comes anywhere close is set to pass over a few states away, in 2024. Gives us plenty of time to put together a road trip, yeah? Hmm…(begins scheming…stay tuned!)

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Starting 14 off with a bang (or...several...)

So, it's been a bit of a...momentous whirlwind...for the youngest member of Team WestEnders, who celebrated his 14th birthday, attended Freshman Orientation, and kicked off his High School career...all within a span of 4 days. (I don't know about him, but I'M exhausted--can we have another weekend now, please? I don't think I've ever said this before in my entire life, but seriously, Labor Day cannot come soon enough...)

Since it felt as though August had been rattling along like a runaway train, the first sign that Riley's birthday was approaching honestly came in a less-than-special way...with his annual check-up at the doctor's. (Hey, it can't ALL be cake and ice cream, ya know...which is too bad, really...although at least this was a "shot-free" year, so there's that little bright spot...) It was pretty routine, since he's (knocking on wood) generally very healthy and we had nothing unusual to report. There were even a few laughs, believe it or not--like when they measured his pulse, and it was...48 beats per minute. Riley didn't understand why the nurse and I seemed so amazed, until she explained that, "If you were a, let's say "not very fit" adult, and we saw that number...we'd be resuscitating you right now!" So, yeah, all that soccer is apparently paying off, in terms of his cardiac function.

The second chuckle moment came when the doctor examined a bump that has recently developed on Riley's leg, proclaimed that it was caused by a minor case of bacterial growth (obviously NOT the amusing part yet) and prescribed a "topical antibiotic" to help speed up the healing. It wasn't until we were discussing this in the car on the way home that Riley sighed resignedly and said, "Well, at least I'm used to taking a pill twice a day, after my foot injury." I turned to him to see if he was joking, and when it was clear he wasn't I replied, "Um, sweetie? 'Topical' means you rub it on the wound." His face brightened in comprehension and he exclaimed, "Oh! I'd never heard it used that way before...I thought he just meant that the medicine was 'relevant' to the infection!" (Hahahahahaha! So you get your skin cleared up, and a new vocabulary word...B-O-N-U-S!)

Now that he'd passed his physical, we could safely move on to the more exciting topic of how to help him enjoy his birthday...which somehow morphed into a multi-event endeavor. First he went to a Carolina Courage match (women's professional soccer) with Derek--each of them inviting one friend along. Next we had the family Durham Bulls game, to which he was also allowed to bring a buddy. Finally, Husband plans to take the boys to a zip-lining adventure park, so they can....I don't know...swing around in the trees like monkeys, or something. (Can you tell that this is very much NOT a "me" thing? Yeah, I'll be at home, feet planted firmly on the ground...drinking coffee and reading a good book. And everyone will be happy...)

As for actual "presents", Riley informed us that he didn't particularly want anything this year. So...it was an extra-nice surprise when Derek went behind his back and secretly ordered him a t-shirt printed with the name and club of his favorite international men's soccer player. Then as his actual birthday got closer, Riley did waffle a little bit, and decided that maybe he could use another baseball cap. When I started to tell Derek about this, he interrupted me with, "Hold on, I know exactly what he said: his UNC hat is to wear while playing sports, and it gets sweaty, so it can't be used for anything else. His Costa Rica hat is his favorite, and it's for special occasions, so he doesn't want to mess it up. He needs one other hat, to wear when he's just hanging out with friends, being casual."

I sat there and gaped at him, momentarily speechless, because he'd just recreated, practically VERBATIM, the monologue that Riley had delivered when explaining why he wished to add to his hat collection. Utterly pleased with himself and with my reaction, he finished smugly, "See? Riley and I are close!" (Well, yes--yes, you are. Thanks for the irrefutable proof, son...) In the end, we let him pick out a Bulls hat for us to buy him while we were at the stadium, so it worked out well for all concerned.

And then, Sunday rolled around, and....9th grade suddenly sprang upon us. Riley took care of some routine preliminary tasks: loading up his (new, super-sized, "serious academic High School student") backpack, gathering his soccer supplies for practice, planning what to bring for his lunch and snacks. Then came the question mark items, such as "when will the bus come to pick me up?" and "Where do I go for 1st period?" (since his brother had mentioned in passing that the schedule is typically rearranged on Day One, to accommodate a homeroom slot that isn't part of the regular agenda).

Beyond this, however, Derek was unable to offer any further details or, you know, "helpful information". In fact, when Riley conveyed his concern about the transportation issue, Derek shrugged and gave a response something along the lines of, "Eh, I was hoping YOU'D figure that out...and tell ME!" (Can I just pause here for a second and express the following: Oh. My. Freakin'. Gosh. There are times that this beloved child of mine crosses the line from "delightfully laid-back" to "would you please, for the love of Pete, stop drifting blithely along on your pillowy cloud of 'whatever...it'll all work out'...and get your...butt...in gear?") Needless to say, he did NOT come to his brother's rescue, in terms of  reducing Riley's night-before-school anxiety.

Fortunately, I already knew how to find the necessary facts, using the website--which also revealed that there was an alternative bus stop that hadn't existed before this year, so it was a good thing I checked for him after all...and kept Derek in the loop (Sigh...). So that was one crisis narrowly averted--but the true emotional turmoil was still to come. You see, Riley admitted to being struck by some pre-High-School jitters at the last minute, and was worried about the next day. Like me, he prefers to know as much as possible before facing any situation, in order to feel comfortable and on-top of...stuff. Therefore the vast unknowns presented by a different campus (with four buildings...and trailers!), hordes of strangers, an unfamiliar class structure, and seven new courses, all combined to overwhelm the poor kid--before he even arrived to jump into his Freshman year.

But because he chose to share his nervousness with me, we were able to talk it through and--I believe--alleviate some of his qualms. One conclusion he came to on his own was that, if he got lost in the hallways, he'd look for one of the Tiger Links (who'd be wearing their distinctive shirts, to make them stand out for just such emergencies) and ask for directions. He also engaged in a flurry of text conversations with some of his pals to discuss such important topics as: "where to meet for lunch" and "which gym we should go to for our homeroom session". See? Look at that-- you're already problem-solving this whole "High School Novice" challenge! Whoo hoo! You've totally got this, kiddo, and I'm 100% confident that you'll be able to handle anything you may face. Let me just offer one teensy piece of advice, if you don't mind...whatever you do...if you're not sure about something...don't ask your brother! (Bless his little pea pickin' heart...)

Saturday, August 26, 2017

High School...Times Two! (gulp...)

Big Friday goings-on to report from...Camp WestEnders. (I've decided we might as well call it that, at least through the weekend, until  it's all "back to the salt mines"--I mean "academia"--right? I think it projects a happy, upbeat vibe....but somehow I don't think the kids are buying into it. Oh well, can't say I didn't do my part to try and stave off the End-of-Summer blues and boost Rah-Rah-for School morale around here...)

Anyway, as I was saying, somehow we had two major activities scheduled for today: Freshman Orientation for Riley, and Senior Portraits for Derek. ('Cuz, you know, why not just go ahead and strap their mother in, on her year-long Emotional Rollercoaster ride, right from Day One? Ay yi yi...) For the 9th grader, there wasn't much preparation needed...we got a few emails from the High School with details about the itinerary/timing/etc. And let's not forget the phone call from his student guide, called a Tiger Link, who'll be shepherding him through his tour...information session...and apparently "fun and games" if you believe the pre-event hype. (Riley took this with a healthy dose of teenage skepticism, as recommended by his jaded older sibling. Siiiighhhh....proving that there are both benefits AND drawbacks to having a brother who's gone before you and experienced it all...)

And then there was the time-honored tradition of having one's Senior Portrait taken--a rite of passage, if you will, as it captures on film your 17-year old self, however you'd like that person to be remembered. Furthermore, this is something that takes time to plan, and should be approached with great care for the results, as they'll be displayed on your parents' and grandparents' mantels--not to mention in the yearbook, for crying out loud--forever. In fact, the brochure that arrived in the mail weeks ago with Derek's appointment time suggested that one should bring "multiple outfits, props, and accessories" to personalize the experience. Ohhh-kaaay.....I read that out loud to my son...then he and I shared a side-splitting howl about how far away from reality THAT scenario was...or as he put it succinctly, "Um...I'm not a girl...and I don't care...at ALL!"

I could see where this was rapidly heading, so right from the start I jumped in to steer the bus back on course. "You could pick out something sporty," I suggested--which got me a side-eye and exasperated snort. So I got to the heart of the matter: "Well, I'D like you to wear one nice set of clothes." Before I could continue, he evidently thought it'd be best to just nip this conversation in the bud by conceding, "I'll show up in whatever you want me to, because you're the one who's going to look at this picture for decades, not me!" Hmmm....DEAL! (That was pretty easy...once again, thank goodness for low-maintenance male children, dude...)

As the actual photo date drew closer, we refined the wardrobe to "khaki shorts and a polo, with a dress shirt and pants in reserve" as the final options. Since his hair is too short to even recommend brushing beforehand, I settled for advising him to make sure his glasses are clean, and figured my work here was done. Husband, surprisingly, actually took it one step further, counseling Derek to practice smiling in his bedroom mirror, so he could summon a natural expression on demand in front of the camera. However, I believe it goes without saying that Derek was never, in a million years, going to follow-up on this little gem. Aaannnd, hopefully the proof in the....proofs...will be satisfactory to all. Or, worst case scenario, there's always make-up day, I suppose? We'll just (all) keep our fingers crossed that no one has to go through nonsense this a second time...

As for the OTHER calendar item, last night I warned Riley that, if I was going to be driving him anywhere first thing in the morning--and also sitting through yet another Parent Meeting--we'd be making a detour for me to pick up coffee on the way. Now, keep in mind that Riley is the member of Team WestEnders who MOST prefers to be...not just "on time" (which frankly is good enough for me, on the rare occasions that I actually achieve it, that is) but rather "as early as possible". So it turns out that, during our ever-so-slight deviation from the most direct route to the school, Riley began texting a pal about how his mother took him "5 miles in the wrong direction" and we were going to be "15 minutes late".

However, he was busted shortly thereafter, when I ran into his buddy's mother, who happens to be MY friend, and she laughingly told me all about it. (Consider that your first lesson of the term, kiddo: you have more parental eyes on you than you know what to do with...you're welcome!) Oh, and we strolled in EXACTLY when the program was starting, and missed nothing whatsoever...and there was java...so it all worked out beautifully.

Then we dutifully listened to the introductions, the overview of the day's agenda, blah blah blah...before they called for the Freshmen to follow some of the Tiger Links out of the auditorium to commence with the...shenanigans. Unable to resist a brief moment of feigned drama, I sniffled loudly, threw my arms around Riley and proclaimed, "Bye, sweetie! Have a good time! See you later! Don't get lost!" He staunchly endured my silliness, but muttered under his breath, "I don't know about this...it could be...another Hamanasi!" (The name of our Belizean resort, cleverly used to compare his current situation to some of the tribulations he suffered towards the end of our Central American adventure. Well played, buddy....and congratulations...I think that just became part of Team WestEnders lexicon...)

Meanwhile, I'd run into the other mom I mentioned before, who'd ratted out Riley for his digital complaining--and after a quick glance at the remaining topics that were going to be addressed in subsequent speeches from various teachers and other faculty, we agreed that we'd probably already heard the whole spiel, from going through the process with our older boys. So we chatted for a while instead, then just...took off. (So...rebellious! It felt like playing hooky, I tell ya...)

In the afternoon, when it was time for Derek to take his turn in Senior Pictureland, I sent him back to the school with the dual responsibility of "saying cheese" and retrieving his brother. Both then returned for the day--one having successfully located all of his classrooms, spent some time catching up with friends, gathered some valuable intel about his new institution of learning for the next four years...and eaten complimentary Jersey Mike's sandwiches provided by the PTA. Oh, right--and the other one, when quizzed about how his Senior Portrait had gone, shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "Eh, fine, I guess?"

So there you have it. All that's left to do now is enjoy one final weekend o'freedom...and get (mentally) ready for Riley's first day of High School...and Derek's LAST first day of High School. And the continuation of Mom's slow ride up that first, enormous hill of the Countdown to Growing Up Rollercoaster...wheeeeee!!!!!

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Smiling all the way to the bank...

So, Derek's about 2 months into his first employment gig, and I'd say that overall it seems to be going fine...or, you know, as well as can be expected for a part-time High School fast food position, anyway. When he began this journey, he naturally had NO idea about what was involved, procedurally, to become a member of the Working Class. For example, Husband and I asked if he'd filled out any official-looking paperwork, or provided banking information to the manager, so he could get paid at some point. Derek gave us a blank stare and shrugged, "Um...I don't think so." Oh-kay....so we backed up a bit and inquired as to whether he even knew when--or how often--he'd be...ahem..."reaping the rewards of his labor". Again, he professed to have nary a clue. "I assume it'll happen sometime," he helpfully offered, when I sighed in exasperation. (Oh, thanks, sweetie--that's such useful information! Grrr....)

Well, it took a while, but apparently the manager did eventually get around to filing the requisite forms, because one evening, Derek came home after his shift, and waved...something...triumphantly in my direction. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be one of those waxy paper bags they put the cookies in for customers, so my first thought was that he'd brought me a treat. Alas, this was not the case, as he informed me that this was the standard delivery measure not only for baked goods, but also for...his every-other-week PAYCHECK. (Oh, fine--I guess that's also exciting....)

"Well, how much is it?" I demanded. He shook his head, "I waited to open it until I got home!" Aww, that's sweet--so we could share this momentous occasion of your very first payday. I absolutely appreciate that...now let's see it, already! He ceremonially extracted the paper and excitedly read out the total...which, while not "professional sports star money" or anything, represented a decent amount. Especially since it was a bigger chunk of dough than he'd ever been given at one time, before! I took a closer look, however, and had to burst his bubble just a little bit. "Er, honey? Let me teach you a little bit really quickly about....TAXES. You noticed that number on the paystub? Now compare it to the actual portion that you'll be keeping. Yeah, those minor things called "deductions"--they're your government's piece...sorry." 

Fortunately, the realities of living in--and having to contribute to--a well-established society failed to dampen his enthusiasm for his newly acquired...wealth. I chuckled a bit at his glee...but also took a moment to reinforce that THIS was the reason we'd been so adamant that he get a job, so he could acquire his own pocket cash...that he, himself worked to earn. "You know when your friends are able to buy something they want, and they say it's because they have 'Subway money'? This is what they've been talking about!" I could see the wheels turning in his teenage brain as he slyly replied, "Yeeeaaaah, I already have enough to get season tickets (to the Carolina Courage, the local women's pro soccer team)...so now...I can QUIT!"

Uh...nooooo, son, that's not how it works (Ha!). He grinned mischievously, "I know...just thought I'd give it a shot." Hmm...nice try...moving on. The next step, of course, was to actually get the virtual moolah into his bank account, where it could actually benefit him. Since he'd never had any reason to make a deposit before, he and I took a little Life Skills Field Trip to the ATM to walk through the steps: insert card, type in PIN number, endorse check. He stopped me there, “What the heck does that mean?” I clarified, “Sign the back.” “Well, why didn’t you just say that?” Dude, you should know the lingo, just in case!

I mean, you never know when it might come in handy...such as, for instance, the very next time we attempted to use the machine, and it couldn’t read the check, because whatever electronic process had produced it had printed the numbers on top of something else, making it difficult for a non-human to decipher. We actually had to do something totally primitive—go inside the building during business hours, and talk to a teller...who just might use that kind of language, since it’s part of their daily activities, and all. Do you want to appear ignorant to the staff, or do you want to know what you’re doing, and smoothly handle your financial transactions? (Gasp! Yet another educational experience in this whole Late High School chapter of an adolescent’s life, yeah? Even though, to be perfectly honest, Derek probably couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of him…but I’d still like him to be informed...)

When we had completed the exchange and had the receipt in hand, I instructed him to look at his new available balance, just to drive the point home a little more firmly. “See how much is in there…after just one payday?” He was practically giddy when he saw the amount that first time...but of course now that he’s been at this a while he has realized that it’s not all fun and games…or incentives. One night he came home from a particularly trying shift and threw himself into a chair, groaning, “I’ve only been working a month…and I already need a vacation!”

This is equal parts amusing and ridiculous, since I’ve discovered that Derek takes it upon himself to mark his availability for shifts….“very...judiciously”. As in, not only does he note legitimate conflicts, like when we left the country for a week, or when he’s attending other events with his family...but he also chooses random days he doesn’t want to be scheduled….such as...“Saturday”. When I queried him about this he breezily explained, “I deserve a day off—it’s a weekend!” (Ay yi yi...forehead, meet palm…)

Then again, the subject did come up today in a more serious fashion, as he and I discussed--one week out from the start of the academic term--how his work hours might have to be modified, in order to make sure that his homework (which with 3 AP courses might be considerable this year) continues to get top priority. He and I share this concern, especially given what happened the other night, when the shop closed at 10, and he didn't get home until 11:30 due to some kind of "technological difficulties" that prevented him and his co-workers from completing their duties in a timely fashion. I assured him that I was totally cool with pulling the Mom Card and allowing him to tell his manager that his parents wouldn't permit him to work until closing--at least during the school week.

He seemed relieved, although--perhaps because we were having such a pleasant, candid chat--he also couldn't seem to stop himself from admitting, "I don't really WANT to work on Fridays, because it's the end of the week, and I'd rather take it easy." Then he added, musingly, "Or Saturdays...because college football." Before I had a chance to deliver a snarky comment, he hastened to add, "But I get that it's part of the whole 'growing up and taking responsibility' thing!" (Yes, THAT. And nice save, honey...)

Anyway, I suppose I’ll just let this go, since he is making enough of an effort that it actually keeps a steady stream of...well, maybe not "Benjamins", but at least some of the other notable (Ha!) presidents...rolling into his Checking account. However much he jokes about it, I know that he does, in fact, now really understand the value of having a job, and is greatly enjoying the taste of independence it offers him. And, of course, he’ll never forget these important details, since I’m here to remind him--say, whenever he uses his own debit card to purchase something online that's caught his eye. Yep, that’s me….just doing MY job! (And for the record, willing to accept my hard-earned pay...in COOKIES!)

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Again with Virginia!

As I mentioned in the last post, after our entertaining, enlightening…and lengthy experience at James Madison, Derek and I still had another college drop-in on the roster, before finishing our day. In hindsight, this MIGHT have been, I don’t know….”ambitious” is the nice way to phrase it….”idiotic” would be less kind, but more accurate. You see, I didn’t check the distance between the two cities, before we traveled. (Confession: because I didn’t actually want to know, since it would be a deterrent to the Trip Agenda if I’d had this information. Call it denial, or stubbornness, or whatever—I was determined that we could Get. This. Done. Don’t get in the way of Mom on a Mission, folks…)

As it turned out, GPS helpfully told us that Harrisonburg and Blacksburg are separated by 136 miles, which we were projected to cover in about 2 hours. Alrighty, then…to the Subaru! (Groan…) Now, keep in mind that by the time we found a mutually-acceptable lunch spot near JMU, sat down for a while, and enjoyed our well-earned repast, it was about 2:45. This obviously meant that we wouldn’t be rolling into Virginia Tech until maybe 5 or so—fortunately, Derek checked while we were on the road, and the Visitor’s Center stays open until 6 (which seemed extremely generous, given that it was a Friday, in the SUMMER, no less. Score one for Tech!).

However…we had some bothersome rain to contend with, which might have contributed to the excursion taking longer than the optimistic Google Maps estimate. Thus we pulled up to the Visitor’s Center around 5:30, in the midst of a shower, making us less-than-upbeat about the self-guided walkabout we’d hoped to take around campus. Nevertheless, we ducked inside, hoping to talk to a representative of the university and pick up any materials they’d be willing to share about their fine institution (including the all-important map of the surroundings, so we’d be able to figure out what the heck we were looking out, without a handy student ambassador at our beck and call).

I have to say, the lady we met was super-friendly and full of useful information. She not only handed us a brochure about the school, she reviewed the map in detail with us--demonstrating the driving route she recommended we follow, indicating the buildings we should be sure to see, showing us where it was safe to park without getting a ticket, and even suggesting local restaurants (tailored to our specific food preferences—she was GOOD, I tell ya) where we could have a meal before heading home. 

By the time we finished chatting with her, we felt fully prepared to take on the Hokie Nation.
As an incredible bonus, while we were inside loading up on valuable intel, the downpour slowed to a trickle, then stopped, and the late-afternoon sun valiantly attempted to poke through the clouds. A positive omen, if I ever saw one! Therefore, while we’d almost resigned ourselves to staying in the car and having to be satisfied with catching glimpses of structures through the droplet-streaked windows as we passed, we were able to revise our scheme back to “wander through as much of the university grounds as possible on foot”.

So that’s exactly what we did—acquainting ourselves with at least the layout of the campus, and getting an impression of what the architecture looked like, without the benefit of an assigned co-ed to dispense facts, tell stories, and usher us inside the various classroom and residential halls. We took a peek inside the Student Center and a recreation facility, which were still open at that hour. And we had a great opportunity to admire the vast grassy area known as the Drill Field, which lies in the center of everything, and which I could easily imagine covered with students…studying and frolicking…during the academic term.

When we felt we’d done what we could on our solo-jaunt, Derek and I agreed that all-in-all, while it was undoubtedly a scenic, attractive place, we couldn’t really get a true sense of it without participating in an official presentation and student-led program. Therefore, in the hypothetical event that Derek does apply…is accepted…and seriously considers attending Virginia Tech…we would have to return for the full…Open House hoopla.

Still, it was enough of a taste for him to keep it on The List of institutions he’s interested in, so the time was definitely well-spent. Before getting back in the car for our final 3+ hours of commuting (about 600 miles in 2 days, if anyone’s counting) we strolled around downtown Blacksburg to sightsee a bit and grab dinner. Admittedly we didn’t have a whole lot of leisure time to perform an in-depth analysis, but on the surface it seems like an appealing, friendly little ‘burb. Again, we’ll do a better job on our next recon excursion!


But for now, our heads were stuffed with all the details we could handle for the moment. It was time to return to Casa WestEnders, process everything we’d learned…and get started on those applications, yeah? I mean, those babies aren’t filling themselves out, ya know? (Says Type-A-Mom….whom Derek is going to come to L-O-V-E during the next, oh, 6 months or so…mwah hah hah!)

Sunday, August 13, 2017

A long day in Virginia: Part 1!

In an attempt to give the whole "figure out what you're doing with the next part of your life" endeavor a wee nudge forward, Type-A-Mom proposed an exploratory field trip into the hinterlands--I mean "rural-ish-Virginia"--to check out the two schools in that state that Derek has proclaimed to be registering at least a blip on his Interest Meter.

Only one of them, however, offered an official tour at this point in the Summer: James Madison, located in Harrisonburg. (I can hear you asking, "Where the HECK is that?" In a nutshell, it's in the far west part of Virginia, about 2/3 of the way up, if you're driving from NC as we were. Geographically satisfied? Excellent, moving on...) I'd scheduled a visit for 10:30 on Friday morning, but according to the good old GPS, it would take around 4 hours for us to get there. Soooo, doing the prerequisite Sleep Math calculations, this clearly indicated "book a hotel nearby", NOT "drive at the crack of 'why am I even awake right now?'".

(As a random aside, they should totally teach this in school, right? Much more applicable than, say, that ridiculous subject known as "Calculus"! I mean, who actually uses that in their real life? Yeah, yeah--the Engineers and Astronauts can put their hands down. Rhetorical question, scientists--sheesh! But I--literary person-- digress...as my Poetic License permits me to do...)

Anyway, I found us a room on the outskirts of Harrisonburg, in a little venue that bills itself as a "local institution"...and crossed my fingers that the description wasn't some secret code for "sketchy". Next up in the preparations, I checked our route...which proved to be...less straightforward...than I'd expected. You see, there were several options, the supposed shortest of which incorporated a myriad of turns, tiny local roads...and potential for disaster, frankly. The less complex highway path, however, was supposed to take 20 minutes longer...so I decided to try the crazy convoluted way. "Hey," I figured, "I have a navigator. What could possibly go wrong?"

Fortunately, nothing did go wildly amiss--although Derek and I wholeheartedly agreed that we would NEVER, in a million years, be able to reproduce these particular directions to return to JMU if we wanted to do so in the future. Also, at one point as we were driving through the center of what resembled a tunnel of towering trees, on a winding, hilly rural road in--oh, I don't even know where we were, to be honest--I turned to him and commented, "I'm so very, VERY glad we're not doing this in the dark!" Also, because we still had some daylight, we did get to appreciate that we passed Shenandoah National Park...and we also had the opportunity to ooh and aah over the mountainous scenery all around us (as we would do many times over the course of the next day, but I don't want to get ahead of myself...).

When we finally arrived at our inn-for-the-evening, somewhat frazzled, moderately tired, and ravenously hungry, we dropped our bags and headed back out to find sustenance. Aaaannnd, about that...on the plus side, we discovered that if you continued on the road we'd taken to get to our hotel, it would lead you directly into the heart of Harrisonburg. So--even though it was after sunset by now--we did get to see a little bit of the university, as well as the cute downtown area. As for the latter, it made such a positive first impression that it prompted Derek to exclaim, "We definitely need to come back and look around during the day tomorrow before we leave!" But it was already pushing 10:00, so nothing appeared to be open, eating-wise. Oh, well...Sheetz dinner, anyone? (The perils of travel, I tell ya...)

We both suffered a fairly lousy night of slumber--it turned out that our quaint, charming throwback one-story-motel-thingie was situated RIGHT on the main road, with what sounded like semis and...I don't know, tanks, maybe?...and stuff barreling by at all hours of the night. So yeah, it was pretty dang LOUD and disturbing to those of us accustomed to a peaceful residential area. (Siiighhhh....Memo to Me: if we ever visit the area again, reserve a room in a TALL building...) There was no time to dwell on our weariness, though, as James Madison awaited.

Once there, we sat through the usual information session, getting an overview of the institution and blah blah blah. One thing that stood out for me--and which would be reinforced by everyone we talked to during the day, as well as any alumni I've queried--is that while JMU is a "medium-sized school" (about 19,000 undergrads), it cultivates a smaller, more personal feel on campus, by placing an emphasis on community, relationships between teachers and students, individual attention, etc. In other words, the atmosphere felt very "homey" and welcoming, which immediately appealed to me.

Then the real fun began, as the Student Guides stood up and introduced themselves. Unlike at other places we've visited so far, once the young men and women tell you who they are, what year they're in, and what they're studying, you get to select the one with whom you want to spend your next 1-1/2 hours. Well, let me tell ya, when they got down the line to  "My name is Justin, and I'm from Chapel Hill, North Carolina", our choice was made for us. What a quirky twist of fate, yeah? Even more amusing, although this guy attended a different High School than Derek, once they began chatting, they figured out numerous people they both know. And obviously, it was super-helpful to get the specialized perspective of someone who both 1) came from our home environment and 2) absolutely LOVES a university that Derek might want to apply to! (That's what we call a...collegiate Win-Win, y'all...)

During the chaperoned portion of our campus experience, we made all the stops you'd expect: a sample dorm room, an academic building, the Student Union, the library. Also, although we didn't actually go in them with Justin, we were encouraged to also seek out the Bookstore and the brand-new, state-of-the-art Recreation Center on our own wanderings when the guided walk ended. We also strolled by the stadium (a hypothetically important location for my extremely-sports-minded son), and the new Dining Hall under construction--which is scheduled to open in the Fall of 2018, just in time for Derek to (theoretically) arrive and chow down, incidentally. We ended at "The Quad", an inviting grassy field surrounded by picturesque stone buildings, where during the academic year Justin assures us students congregate and socialize on every spare inch of turf, making it a central part of JMU life.

Everything was lovely; we were definitely getting those friendly vibes everyone talks about...there was only one tiny thing that could be...problematic, really. During the formal presentation, the speaker let us in on a tradition practiced among JMU's students: whenever someone yells "J-M-U", everyone else within hearing distance is supposed to stop what they're doing, slide their arms out to the side (exactly like the "Safe" call in baseball, if that helps you picture it) and respond with a cry of "Dooooooks!" (The mascot, obviously.) Now...coming from the home of UNC, that just sounds uncomfortably, awkwardly like..."that other rival school 9 miles away whose name we don't EVER mention". When we made this comment to Justin, of course he totally understood, but he shrugged philosophically and replied, "Eh, you get used to it...you just have to learn to reeeaaallly emphasize the 'S'!" (Ha! We might have to work on that...)

Whew! Trust me when I say, it was a LOT to take in...but we weren't even done. In order to get the fullest picture we could, Derek and I still wanted to meander over to the Rec Center and the East Side of campus, where the Science classrooms are evidently clustered. We were glad we did, since I can sum up the new fitness building in one word: WOW. It's 4 floors, including several pools, courts for every game imaginable, group workout rooms for classes, a yoga studio, enough weight training and cardio equipment to keep a league's worth of professional players in shape, a jogging track...and probably some other cool stuff we missed...all in a light, airy, glass-enclosed structure with vistas of the mountains and forests for you to gaze upon while exercising. It was...um..."impressive".

At this juncture--hot, footsore, and starving again--we chose to end our exploration of what had been a very well-liked university by both of us. Naturally, whenever the vegetarian's involved, this becomes more of an "odyssey" than a simple "pick up lunch" activity. This time was no exception, but it worked out well in the end, since we had to drive around to find something that fit my dietary restrictions...which led us to stumble--by happy accident rather than any brilliant planning on our part, mind you--into the retail sector of Harrisonburg. There we encountered such useful vendors as Target, Best Buy, Staples, Kohl's, and even a mall, all of which lay just off campus, so if students require pretty much anything at all, it's within easy reach. Derek seemed pleased that the stores he's familiar with would be available in this setting, relieving any residual fears he might have had about JMU being "in the middle of nowhere" as the Blue Ridge Mountain setting might lead you to believe at first glance.

While we dined (at a Panera, of all places...So, yay, we've pinpointed at least one Johna-approved eatery in Harrisonburg already, without too much deep research!), Derek and I discussed not only our time at JMU, but also the overall College Tour Experience thus far. I was pleasantly surprised that, for the first time, he seems to be actively comparing and contrasting the schools he's seen, identifying the pros and cons for him, and beginning to form opinions about how they rank in his mind in terms of desirability.  He admitted that, while it might be due to the fact that it was the most recent, and therefore freshest in his mind...or perhaps a function of the thorough, educational, and entertaining tour that Justin provided us...JMU "might be the front-runner now".

Alrighty, then! Our day was FAR from finished, as we still had to drive 2.5 hours south to Virginia Tech and conduct our own site visit (since they weren't scheduling any, right before the students return for the Fall semester...rats!), but at least we'd had a successful journey up to this point. Next up: more time in the car...and Blacksburg!

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

High School Challenge #1: Complete

When Team WestEnders returned from our vacation, most of us got to enjoy a “buffer” Sunday--to unwind, rest, and recuperate at home before tackling the chores of the new week on Monday. The one exception was Riley. You see, I’d booked our little tropical getaway based on the availability of the room we wanted—which makes sense, right? But the schedule situation always becomes tricky at the end of July, as we’ve learned that we have to balance our precious family time with the onset of school soccer season (Yes, THAT early!)

For example, it’s a good idea for prospective players (if they are aware of it, as we are) to attend the Team Camp held on UNC’s campus, which happens in the couple of days right before tryouts. The coaches from the High School watch the participants as they perform in drills and scrimmages, essentially doing some preliminary scouting for their team selection. Thus, if you’re there, the coaches get an extra chance to take a nice long look at you in a smaller setting, before the chaos of having to put dozens of kids through the paces at tryouts.

So, as it turned out, the Team Camp started…the same Saturday night we got back from Belize…which I of course discovered AFTER planning our trip. (Not that it would have mattered anyway…because a non-negotiable Rule of Life is: Beach Trumps Sports…or maybe that’s just me…but whatever, I make the plans around here!) When I broke the news to Riley, he took it stoically…but also insisted that he’d like to make it to the Sunday and Monday sessions anyway, if that was feasible. Fortunately, I was able to correspond with the (ever-so-helpful, pleasant, and responsive) Camp Director, who advised me that in his opinion it would definitely be worth it for Riley to show up for as much of the action as he could. (And as a bonus, they’d only charge me a pro-rated fee. See, I told you he was great!)

Therefore we arrived home around 10 p.m…after an 11-hour travel odyssey and a 2-hour time zone change…for Riley to turn around and get up at 6:30 the next morning for a FULL day of soccer-palooza. (Ah, to have the boundless energy of an almost-14-year-old. Actually, he was pretty wiped, but he was also a trooper about it all—so maybe it’s his dedication we should be applauding instead…yeah, we’ll go with that…)

Then on Monday there was another 2 hours of running, kicking, and…stuff, before they ended at around 11 a.m.--freeing them to come home, eat, and collapse for the rest of the afternoon. Whew, that sounds exhausting, yeah? Good thing it was over, so they could chill for a while before the stress and exertion of their actual school tryouts, yeah? Whoops, just kidding! Tuesday morning, bright and early, Riley and his friends were on the field again, this time with the goal (Ha! Sorry…) of securing a coveted position on the JV team. That’s right, 8-10 a.m. AAAANNNND 6:30-8 p.m. for the entire week! Whoo hoo!

What we also know from past years is that the coaches at Chapel Hill High School are blessed with an embarrassment of riches in terms of athletic talent that shows up at the stadium, hoping to be chosen for one of the 20 or so open spots. It understandably requires significant time and effort to evaluate each and every player and decide whether or not they fit into the big picture of the 2017 JV or Varsity team. I can’t even imagine how the process feels to a young athlete, out there working their buns off on the pitch and wondering how they’re doing…but even though I’m not putting in the physical effort, as a parent, it’s still emotionally grueling as your kid goes through it, let me tell ya!

Riley came home after each training tired, dripping, and hungry, but pretty positive about how things were going—although he didn’t seem to have a whole lot of information to share about, you know, those pesky little things called “details”. (Teenagers…what can ya do?) One funny story he did relay: at one point he revealed to the Head Coach that he’s Derek’s sibling…which apparently made its way around to the Upperclassmen…leading to Riley irrevocably being dubbed “D-money’s brother”. (Oh, boy…maybe he’ll get his own nickname someday? It could have been worse, I suppose—at least Derek is remembered and well-liked!)

Anyway, he first time he actually had anything IMPORTANT to report was Wednesday night, when he informed us that he’s survived the first cuts (as did all of his pals—extra yippee!). We were thrilled for him, naturally…but even more so because this gave us hope…dare we even allow ourselves to dream that the coaches would make their final selections by Friday, instead of dragging this out for 2 or even three weeks, as has been known to happen in the past?

In this case the answer was: YES, they did wrap this whole shebang by announcing the rosters on Friday morning after practice…and Riley texted me (very nonchalantly, I thought) that he’d made the JV team. Yaaaayyyy! Also great: his buddies from his club squad also pulled through, so he’ll be playing with lots of people he knows, and with whom he already shares a soccer bond. Best of all, besides obviously congratulating him on his achievement, we, his loving family, can take a moment to be 1) extremely proud of his all-out effort and perseverance…and 2) incredibly relieved that the ordeal is over!


And we’re also looking forward to dialing it back a bit—let’s say, to reasonable one-a-day workouts—not to mention a full season of upcoming matches, local rivalries, and whatnot. Go, Tigers!

Thursday, August 3, 2017

The long way home...

Sooo…remember how I described my family’s recent trip to Belize as the most “wild and remote” we’d ever taken? Well, I think it’s safe to say that I officially reached the Travel Tolerance Level of the two youngest members of Team WestEnders. By the end of the week, it seemed to be a combination of factors that played into their…discomfort. For example, the early morning wake-ups for excursions. Not to mention, the rich restaurant fare for every meal—which probably also contributed to each of them experiencing unfortunate…”tummy troubles” the last few days of our vacation.
I, of course, felt nothing but sympathy for them while they were under-the-weather, but it was still amusing to hear them rhapsodize about what they were going to snack on when they had recovered, and returned to their usual routine in the good old U.S. of A. You might wonder what they missed while they were temporarily living in a fabulous resort with world-class cuisine? “Squeezy tubes of applesauce”…milk flavored with chocolate Nesquik powderNature Valley protein bars…and (my favorite example) “packaged ham with Velveeta cheddar slices on white bread”! 

Derek actually was heard to utter the words, “Mmmm…processed food!” when asked what he was looking forward to eating. (Oy. They really DO eat very healthy at home, I swear. I guess it’s just not as easy to get all poetic and whatnot about their nightly dinner salad and several-times-a-day fruit servings…)

I think he also summed it up best for me when he solemnly declared, “Mom, we’re really more…buffet guys…than we are cut out for fine dining.” (Oh, you mean like the last two all-inclusives we’ve visited? Duly noted, son. Memo to me: dial it back on the “swanky” factor next time we choose an international location. Exotic locale? YES! Fancy food? Clearly a big “No, thank you!”)
We got a crystal clear indication that it was indeed time to go home when Derek turned to me on the last evening and declared, “I’ve had enough of this…eco-friendly DEATH TRAP!” Oh-kaaaay, that might have been a wee bit dramatic, but I took it with a grain of salt. After all, we were facing another 5-leg, 10-hour travel day before we’d finally be back at our own house. The odyssey began at 9 a.m., when we settled into the resort’s van for the ride to the airstrip. We then boarded the 10-seater plane that would take us to the Belize City airport, where we’d eventually catch our Southwest flight back to the States.

And this is where the whole journey began to slowly slide off the rails. We checked in at the counter, to get our boarding passes. Then we showed our passports and forms a second time, to be allowed into the Security line…which was super-long…so an airport…guy…directed half of the queue to walk a few hundred yards to another…eerily similar…line. Security involved the typical stuff and nonsense—shoes off, purses/laptops/phones/cameras/liquids in buckets, suitcases on the belt.
We already knew we were facing a 2-hour wait…which was then increased by an added half-hour delay in our takeoff time. To give you a picture of the delightful environment in which we’d be spending our…Bonus Travel Time…Derek, looking around critically, suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, Mom—this place is no bigger than…a Sheetz!” And tragically...he was so very right

However, a Sheetz—or for that matter ANY well-stocked convenience store, would have offered so much more in terms of “amenities” than the tiny Belizean outpost. We managed to scare up some Gatorades, sodas, pretzels, and trail mix to tide us over until we’d hopefully be able to forage with more success in Ft. Lauderdale. At the appointed time (finally) we endured a chaotic boarding mess to be herded onto our packed plane, where none of us was able to sit together, and the lady next to me overflowed the armrest into my minuscule amount of personal space. Yippee!

The upshot of all this was that, by the time we landed in Florida, we had less than an hour to catch our connecting flight. Shouldn’t be a problem, right? Except the backup at the self-service kiosks (the only option, by the way) at Customs…and then the next traffic jam to show our passports and forms to actual agents. And then, wait—we have to go through Security AGAIN? Somehow we’d forgotten that we had to complete this obnoxious extra step, so Husband and I had filled our souvenir water bottles from the resort, to bring with us on the next flight.

Of course, these showed up on the scanners and got pulled out for inspection…and the only choices they gave us were to throw them in the garbage or leave the area, empty them out, and GO BACK THROUGH THE FREAKIN’ LINE. Since it was now 10 minutes until our plane was scheduled to take off (not board, mind you, which had already happened, but actually “leave the ground”) we told them to shove the bottles...I mean “dispose of them” and let us proceed on our (not at all merry, to put it mildly) way.

As we sprinted to the gate, I heard Derek proclaiming emphatically, “I am Never. Leaving. the U.S. Again!” “That’s fine,” I breezily retorted, “Next Summer’s our domestic year, anyway!” To which he responded, even more firmly, “Nope. We’re done. No airplanes. We may not even leave the HOUSE!” Honestly, at that moment, dragging our luggage at breakneck pace through crowds of people, frantically trying to catch a plane that had probably already left us behind, without having been able to obtain more snacks or drinks…I really couldn’t fault him for this sentiment. (BUT…they held the flight—hallelujah! And we weren’t even the last ones on, by a long shot! Maybe just the most out-of-breath…but hey, if Airport Olympics ever becomes a thing, Team WestEnders has a fabulous head-start on training…)

Wouldn’t you know it: we then had to sit around while being cleared for departure, since there were other planes ahead of us on the runway. But this one wasn’t a full plane, so I actually had an empty seat in between me and the lady by the window…for her tiny dog to occupy. Whatever—the canine was completely silent and no bother at all during the entire flight….and I wasn’t forced to sit with my elbows squashed to my sides, so I’ll take it! From there, it was a brief walk to the parking lot to retrieve the Subaru, followed by a short drive to Casa WestEnders…where we all collapsed gratefully…after raiding the fridge, of course! (Trust me, it had been a looooong time since “munchies in Belize”!)


It was a trying, troublesome travel day, to be sure…but despite Derek’s protestations, once the fatigue wears off, we’ll be left with awesome memories of hiking in the rainforest, snorkeling the reef, enjoying the ocean, experiencing a one-of-a-kind beachside resort…and for some of us, even savoring delicious meals. And now, we can get back into our daily lives and habits…and start dreaming of next year’s (much less “out there”) adventure!