Overheard in the kitchen, yesterday

We recently got a letter from the middle school, alerting us to the fact that the 8th grade will soon be starting the human sexuality portion of the health class.

M: Oh, I remember when we had that program in health. Is Mr. ______ still teaching it?

S: [reluctant to discuss this] Yeah...

M: Don't worry, it's not that bad.  

S: [dubious] Really?...

M: Yeah, I'm not gonna lie, I kind of liked sex ed. There was a lot of role playing.

S: .......

Me: [bursting out laughing] I think you'd better clarify that, Maddy.

. . .

Of course we established that she meant there were lots of roleplaying exercises about saying no and making choices and that sort of thing. But we still have a good laugh about it.

Embracing braces

Miss Maddy recently added elastic bands to her mouth gear (well, technically the orthodontist added them). You know the ones? Where an elastic on each side attaches to a top bracket and a bottom bracket so that when you open your mouth you have little bouncy mouth bungees spanning the gap?

Well, for the record, she's been a great sport about wearing them around the clock as prescribed (and the good news is that this step is winding up the whole braces process). As a bonus, they have given the kids around her no end of fascination. A couple of weeks ago we had a cute girl come sit by us at church while her mom went out with the baby. She was fascinated by Maddy's elastic bands and seemed convinced they were there solely to make her giggle, like finger puppets or a funny hat. So giggle she did, unendingly, pointing at Maddy's mouth with delight.

On Sunday Maddy sat with a different family since I was sick and G and Sam had to sit elsewhere. Later, at home, their three-year-old daughter was cutting up little pieces of string. When her mom asked what she was doing, the girl asked her to glue them to her teeth so she could have braces, too, a la Maddy.

Who knew braces could be so fun and captivating? Like a puppet show in your mouth!

. . .

G and Sam went on an overnight campout last week so we had some quality time around here, the girls and I. One of the things they wanted to do was go to a makeup counter and get a makeover and lesson. So we did. (Lauren was excited that she got the Asian guy makeup artist because she contends her eyeshape is very nigh unto Asian. So she got some good tips.)

It was good, free fun. Which is just the kind we like around here after Christmas.

p.s. That's why Maddy is all made up in the top photo.

24 hours

What to do when your husband's overseas on business for a couple of weeks, you need a little boost, and you have a relatively empty weekend calendar, a brother & sister to visit, hotel points to use, and a gorgeous weather forecast in the northeast? 

Take a spur-of-the-moment road trip. A 24-hour energizer. 

John's Pizzeria.
Last-minute, cheap Phantom of the Opera tickets.
Listening to RadioLab, helping Sam learn his lines, laughing together in the car.
Bryant Park, Rockefeller Center, Macy's, and the rest of the city decked out for Christmas.
City walking, walking, walking. 
NY Public Library.
Exploring Wired magazine's awesome pop-up store (with an amazingly high quality photo booth!). 
Meeting Chris for brunch.
Watching Harry Potter on tv in the hotel. 
Good talks and (after the kids fell asleep) nice quiet thinking in the car on the way home. 

It was just the thing.

Those 24 hours will fuel my next 24 days.

p.s. Miss you, G. Miss you, Lauren. Come home soon!

Madeleine, 16

Sixteen things about Maddy in honor of her 16th birthday:

When she was little she didn't really speak until she could do whole sentences. Until then, Lauren did the talking for her or she mmmm'ed. (Example. I'd ask: "Maddy, do you want to sit here or over there?" She would mmmm back the answer: mmm  mmm  mmmm [three syllables=over there].)  She had everyone worried: the pediatrician, the early intervention folks, the speech therapist. And then the word dam burst and she regaled us non-stop. When she was good and ready.

Instead of "yes," when she was very young she said "aye" like a Scottish lass.

She had an important imaginary friend named Wendy.

When she was three, she was obsessed with the Wizard of Oz and Charlotte's Web.

She desperately wanted Sam's name to be Wilbur.

The day after Sam came home from the hospital, she brought me her binkies and diapers and said "I'm a big girl now. I don't need these." Just like that.

When she was about 7, she was obsessed with the Underground Railroad and Harriet Tubman. She wanted to have an Underground Railroad birthday party. With her encouragement (insistence) we visited the Harriet Tubman homestead as part of our family vacation.

When she was about 10, she was obsessed with World War II and the holocaust. Sometimes I had to do some explaining after playdates when the friend would excitedly tell her parent at pickup time, "We played Holocaust!"

She's a picky eater. Most of her daily intake rotates with a food cast of bananas, potatoes, toast, caesar salad, carrots, cucumbers, pasta, butter, bacon, oatmeal, and cereal. I rejoice when she admits a new food choice to her reportoire, especially if it is colorful. (For her birthday dinner this year, she requested salad, twice-baked potatoes, and rolls. And a lemon meringue pie.)

She has a tender heart and loves a good cry. Whether she's talking about her school reading assignment in  Romeo and Juliet or watching a movie with any emotional element, the tears flow. (I think she finds it cathartic, which I totally understand. Let's just say she comes by it honestly.)

She has a long fuse but you know for certain when she's reached the end of it.

She's very observant and will always be the first to notice a new haircut, a tear-blotched face, or the fact you've had several doctors appointments lately.

She knows what she wants and goes after it with gusto and good, hard, incremental effort.

She hides struggles, hurts, disappointments and insecurities with a deceptive cheerfulness.

She has high hopes and aims accordingly, even if those high hopes every once in a while lead to disappointment (see above).

She has a pied piper quality and has friends of all types and ages. She's just honestly delighted by connecting with people, especially kids. One of my friends recently mentioned that when her young daughters play make-believe they take turns with their favorite roles: one pretends to be a princess and the other pretends to be Maddy. :)

Here's to our Maddy girl and a great year ahead. We're so lucky to have her in our family.

A very French Newsie Waldo Halloween

where's Waldo?

Oh, dear. My moustache needs help. (I mustache you a question but I'll shave it for later)

Halloween was postponed (or in some cases canceled, gasp!) in neighboring towns due to power outages from the weekend storm. Our town had power and Halloween in tact so we had record numbers of trick-or-treaters in our parts (our neighborhood is fondly known as "Mayberry" to locals). I think I gave out at least 600 pieces of candy? I lost track of how many bags we opened and I even had to break into Bishop G's special stash of candy.

Best of all, we had some friends over who have young little trick-or-treaters, making our whole evening. Nothing like Halloween through the eyes of young kids. 

1-2-3...Psych!

1-2-3...Jump!

Lately, my dear

I'm finally feeling like I'm back for real after fighting a post-trip cold for a good many days. And I finally feel like I have both feet in October. The leaves are extraordinarily late turning colors this year so it has still felt a bit like September to me.

I pulled out some of the Halloween decorations. That helped. And I had a birthday on Saturday (I have always loved my October birthday), a lovely day where I went on a long fall walk with Madeleine and Louie, G went grocery shopping with my wishlist, and we all went to lunch. And then I took a delicious birthday afternoon nap. October, you are more real to me now.

Yesterday I was chatting with Lauren on the phone and she asked "so, what's new there?" and I drew an utter and complete blank. It feels like we have kind of groove going and it's boringly (but satisfyingly) placid. No funny stories or mishaps lately. No big epiphanies. But I do feel like I dropped the conversational ball there and owe her a little more of a glimpse of home. So here's my do-over. Here we are, just doing what we do, every day:

Sam reads the paper, quizzes us on current events, practices & composes on piano, figures out more songs on the ukelele. Sometimes we don't know where he is in the middle of the afternoon and find him asleep in his bed with his headphones on and a book open by his side. He's playing basketball and refereeing soccer again this year (and loves the income that generates). I think one of his greatest joys is when I make a planned out, full-on family meal when everyone's home. He's so effusive in his praise and gratitude on those occasions that I really should do it more often. He likes Johnny Cash and is excited that the new Coldplay album is coming out. He just read the new Rick Riordan book over the weekend and re-read The Giver.

Maddy eats a banana every morning on her way to seminary. She's slowly adapting her new room to suit her and can usually be found nestled in her lovesac/chair listening to music and writing letters or reading. She's still that gal who is seminary president and student senate leader and model UNer and Mia Maid class president and assistant violin group teacher. You know, the one who raises her hand to volunteer for everything and has a list of other clubs she'd love to join if she had the time. She loves to take notes and smell good and laugh with friends and dress with flair and eat mashed potatoes and caesar salad (not at all the same time). She just finished The Catcher in the Rye and is now reading Song of Solomon.

As you know, most of Dad's time is spent: 1) working (7:30 to 7), 2) bishoping (bishopping?), 3) being a dad and husband. As you also know, he's a good good man who does all of these wholeheartedly. He plays basketball every Saturday morning with some dads from here in the neighborhood, goes running and makes his own lunches every morning, putters around the garden when he has a few moments to spare. He got a kindle at a work retreat so I'm not sure what he's reading right now since I don't see the cover any more but it's probably a good spy thriller or mystery. 

And you know about me: this blog pretty much covers that. I just read Falling Together and The Night Circus and just started Unbroken. One of my favorite times of the day is after dinner when we all plop on the couches in the family room and read, talk, and laugh. Dad looks through the newspaper and we all catch up on our day and read a chapter or two of scriptures. Louie burrows underfoot and fights for the blankets. Sometimes we watch The Amazing Race or The Sing-Off.  These are especially the times I still look around for you and listen for your laugh.

So, that's what I meant to say when you asked. We love you immensely and, while (as you and I talked about yesterday) things have probably changed a bit for all of us in your absence, there's still a Lauren space right here all the time. xo

Yes, please

At first I dragged my feet. Maddy had a photo assignment and wanted to go into Boston to do some shots.  It kind of seemed like a hassle to me but G and Sam had a church meeting and she really wanted to go, so I thought eh, why not?

I should think why not? more often. Well, that and why not's more enthusiastic sister, yes, please.

Because if I had gone with my Saturday afternoon homebody instincts, I would have missed out on this:

Swan boats retired for the summer.

Maddy in sunbeams.

Witnessing weddings.

Glorious trees.

High wire walkers practicing. (!)

Take that, dragging feet. 

Take two

Here's Maddy's first second day of school, sophomore year. It was a rainy + chilly day, perfect for the cheerful yellow rainboots and a cozy sweater. 

Oh, I love this girl.

^And even though this is a little overexposed, I love it anyway. It captures her.
Here, I'll add a slightly underexposed one to balance things out: 

. . .

When Maddy brought home all the paperwork and syllabi for the year, for some reason I recalled something Elizabeth Edwards once said. During her son Wade's early high school years she decided to read some of the books he was reading for class so they could discuss them and she could hear his burgeoning analysis and thoughts about life.* 

Brilliant. Now that the kids are older, I feel a bit separated from them in their studies. I'll proofread an essay here and there but mostly Lauren and now Maddy and Sam have sailed their own academic ships. So in light of that, I started thinking that I'll read along with Maddy on a few of her books this year. 

Here's the list for her sophomore English class: 

The Catcher in the Rye, Salinger
Song of Solomon, Morrison
The Turn of the Screw, James
A Separate Peace, Knowles
The Crucible, Miller
short stories, Shirley Jackson and others
Ender's Game, Card
The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald
Walden, Thoreau

And films:
The Front (Woody Allen)
Persons of Interest (Alison MacLean)
Walkout 

Pretty great books, right? It'd be kind of like a low-key, mother daughter book group. That I...crash and wrestle into my own territory and attend uninvited? Is this a sweet & lovely idea or borderline helicopter parentish?  I can't trust my judgment on these things anymore. I swing wildly from benign neglect to hovering. I blame the emptying nest and the fleeting years. Savor is my mantra. Gather and savor.

*p.s. In a sad turn of the story, later, when Wade died in an accident before his senior year, she would read the books for that year out loud to him at his grave. Heartbreaking.

Now I see...

Sam learned this on the ukelele for Maddy because it's one of her favorites.
I made him re-enact singing it for her for the first time because my camera didn't catch the audio the first time.
Hence, the hint of reluctance on his part.

I adore it.

(Via the awesome 8mm app & my iphone camera.)

p.s. Sorry about the finger sneaking in there. Also, church is already canceled tomorrow, thanks to Irene. Everyone stay safe out there!

Summer mirage

 

This song has been going through my head this week, one of the epic + quintessential songs from a really fun summer of my past.  "It's the summer of love, love, love." It makes me think of a little red Ford Tempo, lent by my grandparents while they were away for year, windows down, breeze rushing through my hair, twilight approaching, music up. Maybe that's why I've been craving orange popsicles and lemonade a bit.

What will this be the summer of? The kids all have completely different kinds of summer in store.

Lauren will be working full time for 7 weeks as a camp counselor in a local day camp.

Maddy will be working as a volunteer (if you visit Orchard House, look for our girl there) and attending girl's camp and EFY and doing driver's ed.

Sam will be attending an awesome service/outdoor adventure boys camp for a few weeks in July (more on that later) and then enjoying a free and easy August.  

For the first year ever, we won't all be summering to the beat of the same drowsy & spontaneous drummer. (hmm, in that analogy, am I that drummer? Yes.) Hopefully we'll still find time to go to the pond together, to bike for ice cream now and then, and go to a drive-in movie. But it'll be different kind of summer and I'll miss the old lovely togetherness (with an honest side of nagging and nerves).

However. The younger two kids are still in school for one more week. For Maddy, it's the worst week of the entire year because of finals. Is that a thing with all high schools now? Ours has university-style finals week at the end of each semester, using a special schedule where everyone takes two long exams a day, some of them cumulative for the year.  Too much and too soon, I say! Anyway, shhhhhhhh about summer around Maddy; it's all just a mirage for her at this point, a summer mirage. She's all highlighters, rewritten notes, and library afternoons until next Friday. (Go Maddy!)

. . .

photo via pinterest and this, attributed to vookie