Happy Birthday, Mom!

My mom used to joke that nobody in the house needed to be worried about anything, because she took care of it for all of us. There's more truth in that statement than I should admit.

I bet she was hoping when she got me shooed out of the nest, she could unload some of that worrying she was doing on my behalf. That didn't happen. Maybe, she thought, when I became a mom I would start to worry for myself. Unfortunately for her, I don't think this has happened, either.

I was sitting around a few days ago, trying to remember the many times I called her this year with the opening line "do you have a few minutes to talk"? For reference, she should hang up when I do this. But she doesn't. Instead, she lets me interrupt whatever she is doing, and I unload on her about something that's happening in my life - almost always related to my kids. She tries to troubleshoot the situation with me, and I know there have been many times when she's silently thought about her schedule, wondering what she was going to miss or need to reschedule if she came out to DC - which she has done and I'm sure will do again.

And after every one of these calls, I stop worrying. It's amazing. And I know, of course, it's because she's worrying, and that worry will be passed along into the universe and then whatever issue vexes me will be solved. It's not fair to her, but I just can't seem to break the habit. That phone is just so close.

So this year, for my mom's birthday, I tried to say thank you in some teeny-tiny way, for she does for me, without ever making it seem like I'm putting her out. I purchased her a needle-felting kit to make pumpkins, which is something we did when she was visiting last Fall. She had thought about looking for supplies, but I was pretty certain she hadn't tracked everything down yet.

Helen presented the gift, and I do think my mom was both surprised and happy.

And then, just to seal the deal, and perhaps to serve as a reminder for all those calls that were related to Connor this year, Connor gave her a potholder that he had made the artwork for. He was extremely proud of this potholder, and I'm pretty sure my mom liked it.

Next year, I should present her with the gift of not asking her to worry about me, but I'm guessing I'll be calling her within a few weeks saying "do you have a few minutes?". And like always, she'll probably let me interrupt her, and she'll talk me through whatever happens to be going on.

Elaine

P.S. If the pumpkins aren't finished by summer, I'll sit down and felt them with you.

First Lost Tooth

Connor has been nursing a loose tooth since some time in October. When I first discovered it was loose, Connor was thrilled. Then, he was not so thrilled, as he learned that the tooth didn't just fall out with no effort the next day. He was even less thrilled when he discovered that messing around with the tooth could cause soreness. The boy does not like to inflict pain on himself, which makes sense, of course.

I was content to let it just get pushed out in its own time, until I noticed another tooth coming in BEHIND the loose tooth. At that point, I told him the loose one needed to go and make room for the other because I did not want to have to deal with having two teeth in one space. So for the past few days, I wiggled the tooth whenever I thought about it (once or twice a day).

Connor had asked me a few days ago if I could make an appointment for the dentist to pull it out - and I wa$ not in favor of thi$ at all.

We were out with friends last night, and I asked Ellen if she pulled teeth. This next thing I'm going to write is why I adore Ellen so much. "Oh yes I do!" she said, followed by "let me get a paper towel". The woman is pure action when it comes to these parenting milestones.

But despite Ellen's willingness and enthusiasm for the project, she didn't pull the tooth because her older daughter intervened on Connor's behalf, laying herself across the table pleading "no, mom, it's going to hurt". Which turned Connor from being excited to fearful. Ellen tried to get her daughter to keep her yap shut, but that was not happening. The truth must be known!

Last night, when it was time to brush teeth, I told Connor I was going to work on his tooth again. Taking my cue from Ellen, I grabbed a paper towel and yanked the little bugger. It took two tugs and the thing was out. Only Connor had no idea it was out, so he was greeting me with a chorus of "owowowow" until his tongue finally found the space where his tooth once held on tight, and then he looked like this:

We carefully brushed the tooth, because Connor didn't want the tooth fairy to have to see any blood. He made certain the drain was covered - he was not going to lose this precious booty.

And, just as I had predicted, the tooth fairy left Connor a note, a gem, and a dollar. He's taken great care of the gem and can't wait to see if he gets another gem the next time.

I have a pretty good feeling that he'll get exactly that!

Elaine

My Job...

Like most parents, I have a lot of jobs. Some jobs are formal assignments, and some are things that just happened along the way. For example, I do the laundry, excluding sheets and towels. I also schedule activities for Connor and Helen, make sure Connor's backpack gets packed daily, and check on homework. Some days, my job is to walk Connor to school and some days, I walk him home. Some days, I am responsible for dropping Helen off at her school, and each Friday I pick her up from that same school.

I feel responsible for making sure my children are tucked into their beds at night, that their night lights are turned on, and that there's a clear path for them to exit their room should they need to go to the bathroom at some point in the dark. Or, more often, find the need to visit me in the middle of the night.

I right ships that go astray, I stand in wonder at a million little daily happenings, and I hold them tight. I do all of these jobs daily.

I teach them math at the mixing bowl, describe sequences in the patterns of pine cones, and compose silly sentences using "robust vocabulary words", not a one of which has actually seemed that robust.

I play Foosball, bunny store, and baby hospital. And while I do all of these, I think about their futures, and sometimes get struck by the fact that if all goes according to plan, just as they will never know the beginning of my story, I'll never know the endings of theirs.

I really hope I never know the endings of their stories.

The most important thing I do each day, is establish a rhythm that holds my children all day long, so that even when I am not there, they know they are safe. They don't have to worry what will happen next because they already know. Tomorrow's Monday will proceed almost exactly the same way as last week's Monday and if we're lucky, next week's Monday as well.

And when that rhythm gets disrupted, my job is to keep the world looking just as normal as possible. Because last Friday? That was an anomaly. And it's not going to change anything about how I do my job.

{this moment}

From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

Instructions for Santa

Helen and Connor have been poring over the toy catalogs for a few weeks now. Recently, Helen demanded that I cut a particular picture out of one of them so that she could give it to Santa. You see, last year, she requested a "baby nursery". And although she seemed pleased with her booty at the time, he didn't quite get it right.

She's requesting another baby nursery (how much baby crap does one kid need?) and she has a specific item in mind. It's a one-piece set-up that includes a changing table and baby bathtub. Luckily, she seemed equally excited about the possibility of another gift, and I have a strong feeling that other gift might be the one under the tree this year.

In any case, last year, I described Helen's present in this manner:

"For Helen, he purchased some more supplies for her illegal daycare, as she had requested a "baby nursery" from Santa - whatever the heck that is. (In case your child ever asks for this, Helen seemed pleased with some baby bunk beds, a baby bathtub, and some plastic feeding supplies). Dagger through my Waldorf heart those gifts were."

When I asked Helen why Santa needed the photo she responded "because last year he got me all this random baby stuff - he must not have known what a baby nursery was".

I almost fell over laughing when she said this.

Poor Santa. He just didn't know.

Elaine

Man Time and Geocaching

Ed and Connor are now geocachers.

Last weekend, Helen and I went to a puppet show version of the Nutcracker. Connor opted to stay home and have some "man time" with Ed. As part of their adventures, they went in search of two geocaches. They discovered both of them.

Geocaches are hidden treasures, locatable with a GPS. The ones Ed and Connor found were mini-geocaches, where finders sign their name to a log, take the treasure that has been left for them, and leave a treasure in its place. Connor found a quarter and a penny. He left two glass gems.

Yesterday, the boys included Helen in their adventures. Sadly, they came up 0 - 2. But, Helen wasn't the least bit disappointed because even though she didn't find a treasure, she found a friend! Apparently the second location was a park and Connor and Helen met two children about their same ages.

Ed's and Connor's lifetime geocaching score is now 2 - 2.

Better luck next time!
Elaine

Sniffing?

On our walk to school Friday morning, Connor and I had the unfortunate experience of walking behind a car spewing white exhaust. This prompted Connor to comment "I don't really like the smell of gas when it's being burned in a car engine. But I really, really like it when it's fresh. Sometimes, I walk into Dad's shed just so I can get a little smell of it".

I mentioned to Connor that it's not really good to sniff gas, and it can be hard on our bodies.

He clearly wasn't convinced and thought I was crazy.

Would it be going too far to ask Ed to install an exhaust fan in the shed?

Elaine

{this moment}

From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

Elaine

The Guinea Pigs Move On

A year and a half ago, Connor and Helen gave me guinea pigs for my birthday. They named them "Sparkle" and "Pussy" but thankfully, Pussy's name changed to Ella. Despite their initial enthusiasm for a pet, the excitement quickly faded, and probably for the last year, they've been a maintenance issue that offers no actual up-side.

Connor and Helen only notice the guinea pigs when they have a friend over, and then all the kids will play with the guinea pigs for about fifteen minutes before moving onto the next thing. Ed did the lion's share of pig maintenance (a condition of my approval in the first place), but I was regularly annoyed by bedding that escaped their house, or the smell that lingered at the top of the stairs when it was time to change the bedding.

Finally, I decided we were done with the guinea pigs. I told Connor and Helen I was getting rid of the guinea pigs, and Connor did feign sadness for a few minutes. This was easily appeased by agreeing to a fish, instead. Hopefully he'll forget about this, but even if he doesn't, I'd rather a tiny fish that will likely die within a couple of years than a guinea pig. Connor's main argument for why he ignored them most of the time was because he didn't have time. I agreed. We do not have enough time to play with the guinea pigs. He was right.

I advertised the pigs on a list I'm on, and there were no takers. Then I begged my friends to take them, and even one who adores guinea pigs refused.

I was starting to lose hope, so my friend and I started a campaign to convince another friend to take them. She did not fall for our clever claims of homework help and potty training assistance.

And then I advertised on another parenting list and 3 people wanted my pigs. THREE! Oh, how to choose the best home? I chose the one where there was an adult interested in having them. I figured that would make the maintenance tasks less tedious. Also, this family had a 5 year old kid, which Connor and Helen found appealing.

On their last night in our home, we played with the guinea pigs and took photographs. Connor and Helen were interested in them for about 20 minutes. I haven't heard a word about them since then.

Farewell, guinea pigs.

Elaine

St. Nicholas Day

This evening, Helen and Connor set out shoes with carrots in them, in the hopes that St. Nicholas would pass by our home. As it turns out, he did. Helen has been gifted some fancy chocolates and a small wooden sleigh driven by a snail. Connor has been gifted some chocolate kisses and a yo-yo, and our babysitter has also been gifted some fancy chocolates.

Tomorrow, Helen will likely receive a golden walnut at school, and Connor reports that St. Nicholas will drop a kiss off in his shoes while he's at P.E. Never mind that he doesn't actually have P.E. tomorrow!

St. Nicholas Day is a special day in my house, because it's also my sister's birthday. Strangely, her present is already wrapped and sitting under the Christmas tree. Now...should I mail it or just bring it home at Christmas. I have one other item to drop at the post office so maybe, just maybe, this will be the year she gets a gift on time - or just a little bit late.

Elaine

{this moment}

From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

 

Around the House Week 5: Memories



One thing I love about decorating for Christmas is pulling memories out of boxes one by one. Children, of course, can ruin this - because at least in my children's case, they want to get all the decorations up as fast as possible. Pausing to remember when certain things came into their life is rarely on their agenda. They also want to put up as many decorations as possible, which easily overwhelm.

 

In the midst of decorating chaos this week, I pulled out a set of silver penguins that I still remember purchasing years ago. It was a lazy Saturday that I spent wandering around Old Town, a few weeks after Christmas. Seeing them reminded me of all the time I used to have, rarely feeling rushed. Perhaps this season they can serve to remind me to slow down.

 

I put hand-dipped beeswax candles in my proud penguins this year. Connor and Helen made the candles after Helen's 4th birthday. The kit was a gift from a friend who left her school shortly thereafter.

 

I'm looking forward to watching them light the evening.

 

 

Elaine

Puppets

I remember when Connor was in the Oak Tree Kindergarten class, he treated us to a lot of puppet shows. Now that Helen is in the class, she often does the same. 

It doesn't take much to set the shows up. Usually a few random toys, a tabletop, and a bit of an audience. That last element is optional, and I do enjoy these shows more when she doesn't realize I'm watching them.

While at her Grandma's house this past weekend, Helen plopped herself into an exer-saucer and set to work. It was probably the best thing that ever happened in that device.

Also, going through the Kindergarten class is easier the second time for me. Because at about this point in the year, many people start asking the question "Is Helen reading yet?" and tell stories of their own 5 year old reading up a storm. With Connor, I would occasionally get nervous that I had made a bad choice sending him to a Waldorf school, which doesn't teach children to read in Kindergarten. I worried I was setting him up for future failure, even though in my heart I knew this could not possibly be true. Now, when I tell people that no, Helen does not read - nor will she for a couple of years, I can confidently address their uneasy stares. Because my second grader? He reads just fine. And so will Helen.

Elaine

Politics Week 4: What To Do with Negative Energy?

I came of age on a top-ranked college debate team. I ended my debate career winning a speaker award at the national tournament. I know how to argue. I used to do it for sport. I thought it was FUN to embarrass people intellectually. Sometimes, when people find this out, they will attempt to goad me into an argument. A particularly memorable time was at my sister's home. I was a guest, as was this other person, and he took a few moments to stand and insult me, truly out of nowhere. I remember taking a breath and in that breath, I made the decision that I wasn't biting. This guy was an idiot, and I could've leveled him in two sentences, but I stopped. I didn't always have this control. I'm embarrassed by that. But in this particular incidence (and most of the time these days), I made a good choice to bite my tongue. In doing so, I absorbed his negative energy.

You see, at some point, it became obvious to me that not everything is worth arguing about. Most things, in fact, are not worth arguing about. It is also not important to defend myself, even in the face of insult. I prefer to think that the insulter has shown his idiocy, and rather than me looking bad, he's the one who looks bad. I may be kidding myself, but I'm OK with that, too. I live with the fear, daily, that something I say to someone may be the last thing they ever hear. And how awful if it's something mean!

By and large, people are terrible arguers. Arguments are riddled with claims without warrants for those claims. People who get really into an argument will literally switch positions - and not in a progressive "I see things differently, now" sort of way, but in an "I can tell I've lost that point but I care about beating you so much that I will go in the opposite direction - even if it is nonsensical to someone who can follow an argument" sort of way. It makes me crazy inside. That's when I start to feel the other person's negative energy.

Which is not to say I don't enjoy a good argument aimed at truth seeking. I have another friend who I argue with a lot, and over the years, he has convinced me of many things and I think I've convinced him of a few things as well. I would never want to stop arguing with him. The arguments can be so rich. I love seeing things in new light. These heated conversations are filled with positive energy.

I believe in the power of positive energy. I'm mindful of the footprint I leave, and for the many people in my life I disagree with, you will probably never know the control I am showing. Daily. This is possibly the worst thing about Facebook. People post things without fact checking. And sometimes, I want to say "no, no - this argument is wrong and here's why!", but then I think of the argument I will have fallen into, and what an unproductive waste of time it would be. But there is a part of me that wants to shout "NO, NO, NO". In not saying anything, I feel as if I literally trap that negative energy inside myself.

I have told myself for years that if I have the opportunity to absorb some of the negative energy in the world, I am making the world a better place to be. But sometimes, I ponder - what is happening when I absorb all this negative energy? Is it gone, or is it just getting stuck in me? How am I supposed to exorcise it from my very core, or do I just let it pile on, and on, and on? Will the weight of it literally break me, some day? Should I instead shout back just to get the negative energy away from me?

For now, know that I'm showing more control than you could ever know.

Elaine

Walking Home

On the days I work from home, unless I'm in the middle of a conference call, I pick Connor up from school. Helen has liked this lately, because apparently the walk is just. too. long. I should make her walk with me, but I've been having so much fun with Connor, that I can't bring myself to do it. Also, if I'm running behind it's easier to run the few blocks without either carrying Helen or pushing the enormous double stroller I have that I should get rid of, but keep holding onto because I just don't want to hear Connor whine about not getting to ride when Helen does get to ride. I might be softer than anyone knows. Also, I love picking Connor up because since I surprised the class with cookies about a week ago, I've become a legend. Today, a girl that I don't know in the class called out "Connor's mom?" (which is my name at school), so I asked her how she was doing. She replied "you make the best cookies". I told her Connor and I had been talking about bringing them to school again on Friday because the class was going to have "Drop Everything and Read" time. I'm not sure if I'll be able to pull it off or not.

On today's walk home, I don't think Connor ever walked a step. He's decided that skipping is faster, and pretty much since he got his sling off last Tuesday, he's been skipping. It's a loud, high-bouncing, off-kilter skip that makes me smile every time. Until he crashes. That will make my heart stop for the third time since he broke his arm.*

He told me today was a great day because in P.E., they got to play a game of tag where the participants could either skip or gallop. He chose to skip, because it's faster than galloping. Then, he told me that his regular classroom teacher became "furious". I was expecting to get some juicy story about a teacher's head exploding, and even though it would be perfectly reasonable for her head to explode, I still thought the story would be good. So I casually asked "what happens when Mrs. M. becomes furious?". And Connor replied "well, she goes to the front of the room, puts her foot down on the ground and tells us she's furious". Talk about disappointment. I asked if it reminded him of me and he said "I don't think you've ever really gotten furious". He also told me that when his teacher is furious, she moves everyone's clips, which he then amended to say "everyone who wasn't following the rules", which he assured me was not him. His clip was not moved.

The gossip wasn't as good as I expected, but it was still a good walk home. By the end of the walk, he was making plans to play bunny store, which is the activity du jour in our backyard these days. Apparently now is a good time to play because brown leaves are the money, and we have a lot of brown leaves.

Elaine

*Prior to Connor's broken arm, I rarely worried about falls. Since he has fallen, my heart stopped when he fell the Monday following surgery, and ultimately knocked the pins out of place, though not so out of place that they had to be replaced. It stopped a second time last Friday when we were at a Planetarium in Schenectady, NY and Ed was holding Connor's left hand. Connor stumbled and started to fall. Ed yanked on Connor's left arm to break the fall. Luckily, he did not re-injure the arm. I already know it will stop a third time the next time Connor falls. I'm steeling myself for it in advance.

Science Sunday: Week 4

We're traveling to health sciences this week, which is a surely a stretch for Science Sunday. Our query begins with the hypothesis: Elaine will not have a heart attack if she jogs a 5K, despite being completely unprepared.

Last Wednesday night, Ed's home town held a fireworks show. On the flier advertising the fireworks show, a 5K Turkey Trot was also advertised. Ed asked whether I wanted to run. Normally, Ed counts on me to bail him out of his stupid ideas, but this time, I decided to let him hang.

I told him I'd be happy to run 5K, even though I was completely unprepared. The things I lacked were plenty: training, an appropriate bra, appropriate shoes, appropriate clothing of any kind. I figured he would see my sorry state and he would bail me out, but he didn't. We stood in line, under the guise that Ed's sister-in-law would be joining us. By the time I made it to the front, she had decided to drop out, but neither Ed nor I were willing to follow suit. Stubbornness.

I borrowed running tights and a silk undershirt from Ed's Dad.

Our hypothesis was proven true. Thirty minutes and 8 seconds after the race started, I crossed the finish line. I walked through the water station, and paused briefly to give Helen a hug when I saw her on the side of the road. Connor had joined Ed a few minutes earlier to run the last half mile or so of the race. Ed and Connor finished a minute before me, so neither of us got to see the other cross the line.

Note photo awesomeness here - both feet are off the ground!

Winners, all!

Happy Thanksgiving!
Elaine

Fall / Winter Crafts: Week 4 Tooth Fairy Pillow

Connor has watched most of his peers lose teeth, but so far, his are holding on tight, despite his wishes to the contrary. A few weeks ago, I noticed a loose one up front when I brushed his teeth, but wiggling it was painful and Connor is most definitely not into being in pain. Since the excitement of the first loose tooth wore off, Connor has been tenderly avoiding most contact with that tooth, requesting apples be cut into very thin slices and complaining about other foods on occasion.

In anticipation, I made this pillow, with design suggestions from Connor.

Last week, when Connor was in surgery, the anesthesiologist mentioned that occasionally loose teeth get knocked out during surgery, and we assured him this would be fine with Connor. In fact, Connor would like that to happen. It didn't.

On Tuesday, Connor went to his regular dental appointment and the hygienist mentioned that his loose tooth could be pulled out with a little dental floss - but she didn't offer to do the deed. Connor made a bit of an effort to do so on Wednesday night, but to no avail.

I have no idea when the tooth will finally fall out, but I'm pretty sure when it does, the tooth fairy will probably leave this poem. I got the idea from here.

This night it is a special night

As fairies dance upon the roof.

All the fairies must alight,

For Connor just lost a tooth!

The Fairy Queen gives her commands-

Twelve bright fairies must join hands

Then together in a circle stands

To guard Connor while he sleeps.

The Tooth Fairy into the circle leaps

The hidden tooth she takes

Ah, but has far to go

Before Connor awakes.

Three times around the world she flies

Over valleys deep and mountains high;

Skirts the storm clouds thick with thunder,

Wings over waves all wild with wonder.

Deep within their earthly homes

Finally she finds the gnomes,

Who upon the tooth must work

Never once their duty shirk.

Some are hammering, hammering, hammering,

Some the bellows blow

Others sweat at the sweltering forge

And then cry out, “Heigh Ho!” 

The tooth’s been turned to a shining stone,

A glimmering, glowing gem

The tooth Fairy takes the gnomes’ good gift,

And curtsies to all of them.

Before the sun’s first rays are shown,

She returns to Connor’s bed,

And then - - - away she’s flown!

I've tucked a gem into my coat pocket that will probably look very similar to the gem that appears in the tooth fairy pillow the morning following the lost tooth. 

Elaine

Instructions for making a tooth fairy pillow:

Cut out two felt squares approximately 2 inches in length. Sew a small pocket for a tooth onto one piece of felt, and sew a larger pocket that could hold a gem on the other fest square. Embellish as desired. Sew two squares together and stuff with wool. 

{this moment}

From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

 

 

Around the House Week 4: Thanksgiving

This year, I'm thankful for emergency room doctors who make calls to orthopedic surgeons, and orthopedic surgeons who answer those calls - even when they're not on duty. I'm thankful for a clause in our insurance that provides 100 percent coverage for everything related to an accident that happens within 72 hours, which means the first round of Connor's surgery was covered completely. Amazing luck. I'm thankful for bones that heal quickly and even more, I'm thankful for whatever force caused Connor to land on his non-dominant arm when he fell,  rather than anywhere else. Even more amazing luck. As bad as Connor's fall was, I'm well aware it could have been much worse. As of Tuesday afternoon, I'm thankful for a little boy that is walking around without a sling.

I'm thankful for fancy chocolate shops and delicious cupcake shops - and probably even more thankful that they are next to each other about a mile from my home. Pure Indulgence.

I'm thankful for Helen, who runs at mid-to-top speed most of the time, laughing most of the way. I'm thankful for the "I love you, too", that she says most nights in her sleep when I make sure she's tucked in warmly before I go to bed. I'm even thankful for the way she digs into an argument. It'll serve her well in her future.

I'm thankful for Connor's good spirit. Without it, his broken arm would've been much worse. He adapted well to limited abilities, though I have yet to break it to him that he can't ski until the new year. Shhh...

I'm thankful for a gift of a second grade teacher, who has wrapped Connor in love and kindness, and finds a way to push him when he needs it. She coordinated a balloon delivery and get well cards from the class, which meant a lot to Connor. I delivered chocolate chip cookies to the class a few afternoons ago as a thank you to them and I was thankful for those kids, because more than one of them expressed that these were the best cookies they'd ever had, exclaimed "these are homemade!", and asked me to give them the recipe because their grandma knew how to cook. Talk about an ego boost!

I'm thankful for Helen's school. There's no place else I would want to drop her off in the morning.

I'm thankful for little people who still think I can solve most problems. I'm also thankful when they solve those problems on their own.

I'm thankful for rhythms that ground our house and equally thankful for surprises that keep us on our toes. 

And finally, I'm thankful for the glass stars that hang in my kitchen window, disbursing the occasional rainbow and hanging always as a reminder that there is beauty in the world. I'm so lucky to be able to enjoy it.

 Elaine

First Sleep Over

Helen and her friend ACDD have been angling for a sleepover for a long time. At some point in the summer, ACDD's mom and I agreed that yes, they could have a sleep over. ACDD has an older sister that is Connor's age, and she and Connor weren't about to let the littles get something that they weren't getting - so we decided on a double sleepover.

Ed's and my original plan was to take the bigs and stick ACDD's parents with the littles. But then Helen wasn't too certain about sleeping away from home, so the four children decided that the littles would be at my house and the bigs would be at the other house. DOH!

As the date neared, Connor balked. I never got a straight answer to why, but I sent an email to ACDD's mom and asked her to bring pajamas for both kids, because I wasn't sure what was going to happen. I figured we'd end up with all four children, which actually wouldn't be a problem.

But No! Helen insisted that her and ACDD wanted to have a sleep over AWAY from the bigs and if that meant she had to pack her bag, so be it. So the littles headed off to ACDD's house and the bigs stayed at my house. Did you notice how that worked out? I got the bigs! SCORE!

And truly, we had a blast. It was perhaps the only time that Ed and I have gotten to sit and play games with Connor without any interruption. Usually one of us is busy with Helen or doing some random chore. But we'd set aside the night and Connor chose Mousetrap and Yahtzee.

Helen was fine, of course, and had a great time. She definitely wants to have a sleep over again. And now that Helen has paved the way for a sleep over at the other house, Connor is happy to go there. So I guess Ed and I get the littles next time.

On Saturday night, Connor went to his first sleep-over not at our house. A friend of his had a birthday party and wow, is that mom brave. Her husband was out of town, so she had several 7-8 year old boys at her house. Connor was exhausted the next day, but had a blast. They had a bonfire, played video games, stayed up late talking and giggling, and he reportedly ate about 50 strawberries for dinner and the next morning he had waffles, strawberries, syrup, and whipped cream. He would like his "Wednesday waffles" served this way from now on.

Connor's absence meant that Ed and I had Helen alone on Saturday - and this is an equally unique moment as having Connor without Helen. We let Helen choose dinner, and even though it ended up being left-overs, we pulled out all the stops. Helen insisted we eat in the dark with only candlelight so we could really see the candles well. We also added a fancy cheese plate to the menu with Helen's new favorite cheese - Medoro. She has great taste in cheese because I regularly take her to the wine and cheese shop near our home. While there, she always picks out a cheese to taste, and then insists we buy some to bring home (which she occasionally decides she's doesn't like, but usually eats it). Often, the shopkeepers gift Helen with a little chocolate treat while she's there, which might be why she likes to go there so much!

Elaine

Politics: Week 3 - Engines

My dad and I do not agree on a lot of ground when it comes to politics, but I'll give the man props in one department. He insists on driving a car made in the USA. He believes in it, and he puts his money where his mouth is. My mom used to carpool kids to school in a green Chevy Nova that my family owned. We were stylin' in that sedan. A particularly memorable drive was when we hit ice on a downhill and did a neat trick of turning around before coming to a stop. It was the 1970s, folks. We didn't have any stinkin' seat belts, and if we did, the pile of kids in the backseat certainly wasn't aware of them. Fun times, fun times. That Nova - and its leaded gas engine - was retired many, many years ago (early 1980s, perhaps)? It was replaced with another car made in the USA, though I can't recall what.

By the time I owned a car, society had figured out that unleaded gas was preferable - even though leaded gas was a convenient way to keep the engine from knocking. I purchased a Nissan Sentra that used unleaded gas. I loved that car, but it was regularly breaking down by the time I finished college. My dad strongly advised my sister and I against taking it across the country to grad school. He equally strongly advised I exchange it for a Ford Escort. I am unwilling to admit that either of these pieces of advice was good. I can assure you, the Ford Escort is a piece of junk. That car was so uncomfortable, my sister and I still have back pains when we think about that trip - and we took that trip almost 20 years ago. My mother-in-law once got in the backseat of that car on our way to New York City and commented how nice the car was. Clearly, she was trying to be nice herself. Ed and I immediately started apologizing, telling her she wouldn't be saying that for long. And she wasn't.

The Ford Escort was replaced by a Nissan Altima in 2001. That Nissan Altima was my all-out dream car - which is a comment on how bad the cars I normally drive are. Ed and I purchased it, used, right after we got married. Although we were sad about having to buy a car, we were both thrilled to get rid of the Escort.

I have never owned a new car. So when I got an offer through TheDCMoms to drive a Chevy for a week, I couldn't respond "yes" fast enough. I scored a Chevy Cruze - which I've already driven in Dupont and Old Town. The Chevy Cruze has the same engine as the Volt, which I would love to own. PLUG-IN CAR, PEOPLE. How awesome is that? In my lifetime, we've gone from engines that turn lead into a breathable substance to electric engines. The Chevy Cruze reportedly gets 42 miles a gallon on the highway. More importantly, I've noticed already that the Chevy Cruze is roomy. It's roomy enough that I expect I could be in the car for several hours before one of my children complained about being too close to the other one. We tested the trunk tonight to see whether it could handle our usual load of stuff and indeed, it can! There is enough room in the backseat to easily fit projects for Helen and Connor to pass time with - and nobody is sitting with their knees propped on a suitcase. This is huge progress for us.

There's so much room in that trunk, I could fit a kid in there if need be. But hopefully that won't be necessary.

I can also fit several gifts in the backseat, which I'll be giving out as I cruise around as part of GM's Random Acts of Kindness Campaign. I'm looking forward to bringing a little surprise to people I meet over the next week, before I am asked to give up my keys.

The loaner car is sponsored by the GM Northeast Team. This might be the best car I have ever driven.

Thank you, GM Northeast Team!

Elaine

Disclosure: I have the car for a week and in exchange, I'm giving out random care packages to people I meet. Next up: how much stuff can we fit in the backseat?

The Lost Art of Written Communication: Connor comes through with his teacher

I'm a big fan of written communication. I'm so much a fan, in fact, that I keep a stack of all-purpose cards at the desk in my downtown office and my home office, and keep a book of stamps in both places as well. That way, when a letter is called for, I'm not stymied by lack of supplies. I got this tip from a speech Randy Pausch gave - although I can't remember now if it's his lecture titled "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" or "Time Management". Both are worth watching.

A few days ago, Connor made this card for his teacher. I had suggested he should thank her for the book she gave him and I heard him thank her at pick-up one day, but he zipped home the day of his surgery and got to work on the below.

"Dear Mrs. McFarland, Thank you for the fact tracker. I read it in about 1 hr. I[t] was very cool. you are the best teacher ever. Sincer[e]ly Connor"

He couriered it right into her the next day. I fell over from love.

But sometimes, I realize, one does not have stamps at her desk, and one cannot deliver the mail personally. And for that, Shutterfly has come up with a solution. Hop to your computer and make a personalized card. Let them know where to send it, and it'll be on its way. It's called a "Treat Card". If you send one today (November 19) or tomorrow (November 20), you can do it free with the code: TREATBLOGR. If you are related to my husband, you can whip one of these out to his dad for his birthday that was yesterday. If not, perhaps you could beat everyone with holiday cards this year, or surprise someone with a Thanksgiving note. While it won't include your personal signature, it will include your personal note.

I'm testing the service out with my own free card tomorrow. It'll be going to my, ahem, father-in-law, who didn't get a card from his son or grandchildren this year...yet!

Elaine

Disclosure: I'm receiving 20 Treat Cards in exchange for posting this offer.

Science Sunday: Week 3

Science Sunday brought Ed and the kids into the kitchen this week. Only it was in the middle of dinner preparations, so I sent them packing. They were not dissuaded from their project by my lack of enthusiasm, they just filled up a pot of water and went to the bathroom.

The back story is that Helen and Ed purchased a pomegranate when they were on a field trip to the grocery store today. The last time we had one of these things in our house, I remembered it was a mess getting the seeds out, so upon seeing the fruit, I helpfully said "there's a right way to cut that thing which makes getting the seeds out very easy". Ed asked where I had seen the instructions to get the seeds out. I answered, like everyone else who ever needs a piece of information, "the Internet".

Ed dutifully went to youtube and learned that if you score the pomegranate, you can break it apart easily and get all the seeds out without making a mess. Sounds simple, right?

As you might imagine, I was a bit skeptical, since neither Ed nor the children can do ANYTHING without making a mess. And the three of them working in tandem is typically an unstoppable mess. I give Ed credit though, he knows his limits.

He had Connor and Helen jump in the bathtub for the experiment. And guess what?

Helen is clearly a bit skeptical about the labor she's being asked to perform.

No mess! It was easy! The seeds dropped right to the bottom of the water. There must be some scientific principles involving buoyancy at work here, right?

Maybe we'll eat more pomegranates now.

Elaine

Fall / Winter Crafts Week 3: Gnomes

I've had the good fortune to attend handwork group with several other women from Helen's school. We spend a couple of hours after drop-off on Friday to make crafts that will be sold as a fundraiser for the school. The only problem with this is that if I bring home a project that's not quite finished, I'm sure to get a request to make some for Helen. A huge upside to this is that I'm often discovering half-finished projects of my own, and I've been inspired to finish some of them.

This little set of gnomes is the start of a growing collection. I'm planning on hiding them around the house in December as a game for Helen and Connor. I gifted the pink gnome, pictured below, to Helen after Connor's second surgery. Both Ed and I had to miss dinner with her while we waited for Connor to go into surgery. I figured she'd appreciate receiving something I made while waiting for Connor to wake up from anaesthesia.

The how-to is pretty simple.

1. Start with a little wooden peg, like the ones found here.
2. Cut a rectangular piece of felt that can be wrapped around the base of the peg. Glue it in place or sew the ends together to keep it in place.
3. Sew around the neck so the felt will fit snugly and not fall off.
4. Cut a cape to fit the gnome and stitch around the edges and add embroidery to the back if desired.
5. Add some sort of hat and you have a gnome!

{this moment}

From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

Elaine

Around the House: Week 3 Pets

When I was growing up, I had a dog. Friends who didn't have a dog or cat would often talk their parents into oddball pets that never worked out well - lizards, snakes, mice...

As it turns out, I would never want to own a dog or cat. This means that my children have turned into the kids with all the oddball pets - and they never work out. At present, we have two guinea pigs, two hermit crabs, and four birds. The birds are totally my fault, because I like them and Ed purchased a pair for me back in the day before we had child rearing responsibilities. The birds bred, a lot, and we used to have many, many more. The bird population has dwindled, but I cannot get rid of the ones I have left because they all look like death warmed over. They are well past their average life expectancy.

The guinea pigs are a disaster. Originally, I approved the purchase of hamsters, but Ed had the bright idea to do research, and his research suggested that guinea pigs make better pets. What he did not tell me was that guinea pigs live SEVEN years, and hamsters live TWO. If we had hamsters, they would probably be dead now or very close to dead. As it is, Ed has to clean the guinea pig cage every week or two (a condition of the purchase), we all feed them whenever we remember, and nobody actually plays with them except when Connor or Helen has a friend over. In other words, we have all the down sides to owning a pet, none of the up sides.

I actually love the hermit crabs. Connor received these as a gift from Ed's dad when we were vacationing in Cape May this past summer. We started out with three, but one died when we were vacationing in California. Connor, for the most part, has forgotten about them - though occasionally he does thank me for feeding them. I moved the hermit crabs from their travel home (a tiny cage that can be carried around) to an aquarium we had in the basement. We had this aquarium, by the way, because I had gotten it from a free listserv when we were going to get hamsters. So I guess it's good we didn't get the hamsters after all?

I'm counting the days until the birds die and have been desperately trying to give the guinea pigs away. In fact, after a shedding a few tears, Connor seemed to understand how we needed to get rid of the pigs and in a moment of weakness, I told him he could get a fish instead. But the crabs? I spend my evenings trying to sneak up on them while they're wandering around looking for food. Whenever they sense I am near, they hunker down and hide inside their shells - so stealthy!

 



Elaine

Social Structures

A byproduct of having opposite gendered children is that I tend to spend a lot of time thinking about their differences, in the context of being a boy or girl. Having no personal experience being a boy, I often feel more in tune with the way Helen might see the world, and how the world sees Helen. I find myself brushing off things I can't explain easily about Connor as "it must be the difference between boys and girls". Sometimes, this is probably warranted. Other times, I'm probably confusing gender differences with any number of other things.

Last year, Helen spent most of her time playing with the boys in her class. And while she's still quite close to at least one boy in the class, and enjoys having playdates with a few different boys in her class, her teacher reports that most of the time, she plays with the girls this year. In some ways this makes sense, because Helen is definitely a girly-girl in her clothing choices and around our house, she loves to play with babies and other traditional "girl" things. Playing with the girls at school represents a huge change for Helen.

My very simplistic observation is that playing with girls is a lot more difficult than playing with boys. When I observe the boys playing on the playground at Connor's school, they don't waste a lot of time choosing sides, explaining rules, or figuring out how they'll all fit together. They run outside, divide roughly in half, and start playing some sort of game focused on a ball. Everyone gets to play, and in many ways they play an every-man-for-himself style of game, with lots of cheering when someone from your team scores - even if that scoring effort is largely solo. They will occasionally stop a game to argue, but mostly there's enough people that want to keep playing that they just keep moving through disagreements that arise. Which is not to say there are no rules - these get debated mightily - once - and then they are accepted for many weeks. Or, a few competing sets of rules will develop and then the start of the game is a very simple statement of "we're playing by rule set 1", and everyone seems to understand that rule set 2 will be played the next day. Easy.

Girls, on the other hand, argue endlessly about what role each person will have, the fairness of that role, and will plan the play beforehand. Often, Helen will say "pretend you came up to me and asked me why my baby was crying" and the desired response is to walk up to her and say some variant of "oh my, your baby is crying". The person she's playing with may, or may not accept the assigned task, and when she rejects the task, a discussion over what will happen will ensue. The setup seems to be the focus of the play.

I can see benefits to both styles of play.

What I fail to understand with girls, however, is why they seem to constantly need to confirm that someone is their friend, how much one girl likes another, and whether someone is allowed to play that day. A mystery, for sure, and it makes me crazy.

Elaine

Politics: Spend Your Money Where it Counts

In my more cynical moments, I tell people it doesn't matter who you vote for, it matters where you spend your money. I'm proud to say I don't shop at Walmart or Costco, although this is not only about the stores themselves, but also about not knowing where the former is and being intimidated by the parking lot at the other. I buy a good bit of my produce from local farms, and I'm working hard on being organic - particularly when it comes to dairy. The dairy case won because I went to a couple of talks sponsored by Stonyfield and I started panicking.

Connor's Dyna-Math homework (a Scholastic product) is typically structured so he reads a short story and then answers math related questions about that story. In this week's edition, there is a story about one of those programs where you can purchase a goat for a community. Connor was intrigued by this idea, seeming to dig the practicality of it all. Needless to say, someone on our Christmas list will be getting a gift from Heifer International this year. Goat, anyone?

I have another friend who encourages me to buy Punjammis every year. If I wore something other than an old t-shirt to bed, I'd probably take her advice. It's a great example of spending money on something that's easy to believe in. My friend loves hers - so it seems to be a win-win.

This morning, an email about "Maiden Nation" landed in my inbox. A friend has visited Haiti and vouches for the importance of this effort in creating a sustainable income for women in Haiti. The featured product right now is a Kiss Kiss bracelet made with paper beads by women in the Hands Together Cooperative in Haiti. I'm thinking the adjustable nature of the bracelets may mean that I could actually have a bracelet that fit - a rare thing on my freakishly small wrists. Anyone want one of these for Christmas this year?

Of course, probably the reason I'm busy thinking about politically minded spending right now is to purge the guilty feeling that comes along with a recent grandparent sponsored trip to the American Girl doll store and the Lego store at a nearby mall. Oh boy, do my kids love that stuff!

Elaine

Reading Problems

There's this phenomena, noted often around my house, where a small child is basically exempted from being expected to do typical behaviors. The child looks very young, so s/he must be so. It's a huge benefit to both of my children, and I'm sure I benefited from it along the way. Larger children, on the other hand, receive disapproving looks when they snag a toy from someone, bump into someone smaller, or do any number of completely age-appropriate things because they appear to be older than they actually are. Expectations matter. And even when people learn new information, it seems to be extremely difficult to update that expectation.

Here's that same phenomenon, in a different context. We observe Connor reading fairly difficult texts. We observe Connor as a child with loads of self control. We decide, then, that he is older than he actually is and expect him to behave that way.

At night, we tell Connor he may stay up and read for some defined amount of time before he turns off his light and goes to sleep. Often, we hit that time and, remembering our own childhoods and how difficult it can be to put down a good book midstream, we tell him he can finish the chapter he's reading. We do this night after night. Every night we expect the book to be put down. It never is. This, as you might imagine, proves endlessly frustrating.

If any other parent described the above to me, I would tell them in a minute that a seven year old - especially a somewhat compulsive seven year old like Connor - just doesn't have the will power to stop reading. I'd tell them if you want him to stop reading, you need to help him learn to close the book. You need to not put this on his shoulders, but on your shoulders.

And so it is that we are trying something new. Now, rather than telling him to stop at the end of the chapter, we will go up to his room, read to the end of the chapter with him, and then close the book and place it on the shelf for the night. I explained to Connor that the only other options were to (1) ban books or (2) give him crappier reading materials so he wouldn't want to keep reading! He didn't think either of these solutions was tenable.

He's not nearly as old as this photograph makes him look.

Elaine

Science Sunday: Week 2

Let's face it, after last week's explosion, there is no possible thing we could have done today that would have been Science Sunday: Week 1's equal. No matter what I post, you will be disappointed. I'm sorry.

It wasn't as exciting, but we did have fun today.

This week's Science Sunday took up to the Museum of Natural History. Probably the thing I love most about living in DC is how easy it is to pop into a great museum, spend a couple of hours, and then dash out before fatigue sets in.

Today, we did see one exhibit particularly appropriate for our home. The sign on this bone told us we could tell this dinosaur was a fighter because of the broken bone that didn't heal quite right. It probably made the left arm of little use.

Yeah...I couldn't see it either. So much for science.

The update on Connor, as long as we're on the topic of broken bones, is that he continues to heal. If he weren't moving so much, his surgeon might have removed the sling, but because Connor is extremely active (despite my constant STOP!), he said to keep the sling on.

The pins in Connor's arm need to come out, and the only time the surgeon can do it is Thursday morning because that's when he has hospital time scheduled. Connor has a field trip to the Natural History Museum (full circle, eh?) Thursday morning that Ed is planning on accompanying him on. Connor was devastated by the news. He sobbed. The nurse is looking for another time. Please, oh please, let a new time come through. I'm tired of telling Connor he can't do things.

Elaine

Fall / Winter Crafts Week 2: Lanterns

Every Fall, when the days start to shorten and a chill is sent through the air, my children start going on lantern walks. These walks are inspired by the same practice at first Connor's and now Helen's school.

In preparation for the walks, Connor and Helen get out the lanterns they made in prior years, set to making sure the candle still has some wax left in it, and then choose which lantern will guide them through the darkness.

For the walk at school this year, we were especially lucky. Helen's three youngest cousins were able to join us. And though I was certain this would finally be the year that a small fire would be started by a candle gone astray, especially as we walked through the crunching leaves at a nearby park and not one but TWO children tripped on their walks, not a single leaf caught fire. The little candles glowed through the park and welcomed the season.

This wasn't the first of our lantern walks this year, and it won't be our last.

Making the lantern:

Except one lantern which Connor made by poking nail holes in a tin can, the rest of our set is made from paper.

Take a piece of watercolor paper, cut out shapes, paste tissue paper into those shapes. Form the paper into a tube, add a bottom, wire handle, and then connect that wire handle with a wooden stick. Glue a candle to the bottom and you have a lantern! Helen explained to me that her lantern this year didn't even have shapes cut out of the base paper. Instead, she cut out leaves from tissue paper and attached them to the outside of the lantern with "water glue". Simple, eh - yet always beautiful.

Elaine

{this moment}

From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments or at SouleMama.com.

Elaine

Around the House: Week 2

Ed and I purchased our home almost three years ago. Since then, we have had a lot of renovations completed. We're fortunate that most of the work has been done by one man, who is regularly astounded by our home's oddities.

Last weekend, one of our hot water heaters started leaking. It is completely fortunate that Ed noticed this, because neither of us is often in this room of our labyrinth of a basement. Ed was down there turning fuses off so he could install a new light for our front yard - which has been broken for months, but we finally made it to the hardware store to purchase a new one.

We called our usual handyman up, and he was able to come over. His first goal was trying to figure out if our two hot water heaters (which are in different rooms) were somehow connected. To find this out, he followed the many pipes that lead between the two rooms.

Usually when he is at our house, he can keep from laughing, and hold his expression to one of shock and amusement. This time, he actually burst out laughing when he saw all of our home's pipes and told us it looked like we were in the basement of an apartment building.

I'm thinking that was not a compliment.

Elaine

Helenstyle

Helen is definitely the style maven in our home. For the past few days, she's decided to up her game and add make-up.

On top of that, she's somewhat offended by the idea that there could be clothing in the house that fit her, but are not hers to wear. Because Helen regularly rejects Connor's hand-me-downs that don't have a print or stripe on them, I assumed she wouldn't want to wear his old puffy green coat. When she saw the coat sitting in my home office, she insisted she be allowed to wear it.

This is fine by me, of course. However, after slogging through one day with the coat on, Helen planted it firmly back in the "get rid of" pile. Apparently it doesn't meet her high fashion standards.

Elaine

Politics - Not Neutral in My House

I know many people take pride in raising kids in a politically neutral home. I'm not one of them. I'm all about discussing the existence of God (some people think yes, some people think no), whether one should be a vegetarian or eat meat (most people eat meat - even Daddy, but I don't feel good about it), and all sorts of other tricky social topics. I'm not so open about who I'm voting for. I'll admit to having more of a my way or the highway approach to this topic. I figure I was raised in a Republican household with little discussion of Democrats and I became a Democrat. If my kids want to be Republicans, they'll have to work for it, too.

This is the last election related conversation I can remember having with Connor.

Connor: Why do you dislike Romney so much?

Elaine: Because Romney thinks he gets to decide when I have babies.

Connor: But that really doesn't matter much for you, since you've already made your decision. You just care about it for other women.

Elaine: Yes, Connor. I care about it for Helen and every other woman. Also, I believe in equal pay. President Obama thinks that women who are equally qualified who do the same job, ought to get paid the same as men. Mitt Romney doesn't agree.

Connor: Yeah, that's really important.

.....

Ed, later: No need to mention to him that that's money right out of his own white, male pocket.

Elaine: Yes. He'll have to figure that part out on his own.

I voted weeks ago in early absentee.

Foundations

Most of the time, I'm perfectly happy to send Connor off to school each morning. There are obvious benefits to the free, public education provided at our neighborhood school. And what a difference a year can make. He's made friends easily this year, he understands the rhythms of the day. His classroom teacher understands and so clearly cares about him. She put him in his own word study group, and he loves that. He sees his gifted teacher twice each week now, and she absolutely loves him. She'll be with Connor through the fifth grade, which provides a nice bit of consistency for him. Prior to his broken arm, Connor was really having a fun time with the boys on his soccer team. He really seemed to have figured the school and complementary activities out. Dare I say, the year was almost easy?

But I confess to a few moments that still make my heart do a little lurch. Most of these have to do with the art curriculum, but I'm taking the ostrich approach to that. I also felt a little sad when Connor broke his arm because typically at recess, he runs around with several other boys playing soccer, or plays chase with another set of friends. Neither of those activities are good for broken arms. I imagined a kid sort of drifting around the playground, waiting for the bell to let him leave his misery. Since I think recess is quite possibly the most important thing Connor does each day, the thought of him not enjoying it hurt my heart.

Imagine my pleasant surprise when I went to volunteer in Connor's class last week at the Halloween party. I arrived early enough to see him at recess, and was prepared to bring him inside with me so he wouldn't have to see all those kids running around and having fun without him. He had told me before that he wasn't really doing much at recess, although he sometimes "hung out with the girls". When I arrived, leaving early was not what he had in mind. Instead, he showed me this:

As it turns out, he and a few friends have been building "birdhouses" on the school playground. A mom of one of the girls happened to be volunteering with me and while we set up for the party as recess continued, she mentioned that some of the girls have really enjoyed Connor's arm being broken, because it means they get to play with him at recess. That warmed my heart.

That ended up being one of those days that I was pretty happy to send Connor to our neighborhood school. Today was another one of those days. When I walked Connor home from school, he was so excited to tell me that his teacher had given him a new book, just because she thought it was too hard for the rest of the class and that he would enjoy it. Enjoy it he did - reading the whole thing before bed tonight. Thank you, universe, for placing these kind children and educators in our path.

Elaine

Science Sunday, Week 1

I should explain the recent titling of posts. I'm participating in National Blog Posting Month, NaBloPoMo, once more. Every day in November, I will attempt to post. I've done this for a few years, some years more successfully than others.

Last year was my most successful year, and I'm confident it's because I gave myself some structure. I wrote an advice column. If you want to read my daily blatherings, all of the posts are linked here. I actually had a lot of fun with this challenge last year.

This year, I decided to break the challenge into days of the week. I plan to write about a different topic, posting roughly four times on each topic. I decided this on November 1, so it's been a little shaky getting things going. The structure is this:

Thursday: Around the House
Friday: {this moment}
Saturday: Fall / Winter Crafts
Sunday: Science Sunday
Monday: Connor's Day
Tuesday: Politics
Wednesday: Helen's Day

Wish me luck.

The first installment of Science Sunday happened quite unexpectedly this afternoon. It is one of the many good by-products of Connor's broken arm. A friend of mine that I met in 7th grade sent Connor a care package. It's basically a small plastic tube and a roll of Mentos candy. In order to make a geyser, you are supposed to secure the plastic tube to a diet soda bottle (and that diet part is important, because apparently diet soda is a lot less sticky than regular soda). Then you place a pin in the plastic tube, stack the Mentos on top, pull the pin out and watch a 25 foot geyser happen.

Connor and I carefully read the instructions on the package, and then Ed helped Connor with the experiment. I don't think Ed ever read the instructions, and that explains this video.

The play-by-play is this.

1. Ed does not follow the instructions.
2. Helen warns her friend Naim of impending doom.
3. Naim's mom and I assure Naim everything is fine. Clearly, we are optimists.
4. Connor paces nervously, and then tries to assure the crowd about what will happen.
5. Ed warns about a "splash zone".
6. Ed discovers the splash zone at the point it becomes obvious he didn't read the instructions to the experiment.

In case anyone ever wondered why Ed and I do not home school our children, I think the above video puts that issue firmly to bed.

Elaine