Girl Scouts Update

If you build it, they will come.

When Sophia was in kindergarten, which was only sort of kindergarten, being mostly homeschooled with a Friday field trip with the group that eventually became her school, I wanted to get a daisy troop together. I loved being a girl scout and even though I knew things change with time I wanted to offer that for her.

I had 6 girls. It was cute, but we didn't do much. We did crafts and learned about the Chinese New Year and went caroling and that was about it. But it was daisies. I don't agree with the new "Daisies do it all" mentality. We met once a month and we didn't have any money and we didn't camp and that was a good thing.

The next year we jumped right into Brownies. I didn't want to lose the few 1st graders I had and I was hoping to do more with the girls since Daisies was a mystifying program with very little support. I couldn't imagine how to run it for two years in a row. Plus, we were the transition years when you could choose to have 1st grade Daisies or Brownies. So we jumped in with both feet and had a troop of 12 or 13. We did more: we went to see the eagles in Clarksville, we sold cookies, we went on field trips around town--things that all St. Louis kids should do at least a few times (Magic House, Forest Park, Zoo, that sort of thing). We earned 19 try-it badges that year, all during meetings, and participated in April Showers (the yearly collection of personal hygeine products for food pantries--soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and so forth).

Last year, we had a troop of 16, although we lost two during the year (meaning they dropped out, not went missing...). I was pregnant with Leo and so my coleader did a lot of the work. We saw the eagles again, at Chain of Rocks Bridge. Girls worked on several try-it badges. We sold a lot of cookies and therefore in the spring, we did lots of things: Dance St. Louis came to our meeting, as did Worldways Museum. We went places and still had lots of money left over for this year. Last year, too, got frustrating--part of our large amount of money was due to a mom's cockamamie plan to sell 1000 boxes for her daughter. Communication with HQ broke down. But I kept it out of the meetings and the girls still enjoyed themselves.

This year I have 18 plus 1. That one is a girl from the block whose mom is a leader at her grade school--in a troop that will not camp. So she comes on our camping trips. My girls live in the neighborhood for the most part and come from two main schools, with 4 other schools represented. We've had a great year but I'm exhausted.

If things continued exactly how they are right now, I will have 23 girls next year from 3rd-6th grade (only 1 6th grader and only 2 3rd graders) from 7 schools.

And I will lose my mind.

Something has to change. And so I wrote a letter to all my parents inviting them to come next Sunday the 7th to my house to chat about next year. I put it all down in black and white for them: "I will be leading a daisy troop for my daughter Maeve and will be the troop organizer for my daughters' school. I need help." In a nutshell.

The woman in charge of me at HQ (whatever her three letter abbreviation is) wants me to split it down school lines. My parish school becomes one troop, my daughter's school becomes the other. But then what to do with the huge amount of money we've earned this year from cookie sales (again!)? And what happens when the parish school parents can't come through like we'd all like? Does that mean those girls get cut out of the good years of girl scouting (juniors and cadettes, in my opinion)? I know, I'm not responsible for that, but I kind of am. There are moms at that school who have been behind me 100% and drive on field trips and bring their girls and help out in a pinch but are not the sort who will suspend their disbelief long enough to attend the soul-crushing training meetings the girl scouts require of leadership candidates. Seriously. I have sacrificed myself so that we can all have a good time. And we do.

It would also kill the best part of our troop--the diversity. I'm not talking about ethnic diversity (although we have that too--we are a true picture of the south side, I think). I'm talking about schools. Having 8 from the parish school, 3 from the neighborhood, and 7 from the charter school means there are enough people you know to have friends immediately but also allows you to branch out if you want. There are three girls from the parish school who do not mix well with others--meaning they are shy, not bad--but there are others who have blossomed in this situation. Whatever label you wear in the classroom, you don't wear it for half the girls in the troop. If all the girls come from my daughter's classroom, it's just really an after school program.

It could be that we split by school. But we could also split by school for one meeting a month and meet as a larger group once a month for a field trip together. Or maybe we could simply camp together as a larger group.

Perhaps I could drum up enough 2nd graders interested at both schools to start up a solid brownie troop for next year and really let girl scouts happen at the two schools together by grade level instead of massive groups like what I'm about to have.

Grade level meetings could happen, too, instead of school-based meetings. The 5th graders could meet, the 4th graders, and so forth, and then also come together for field trips/camping or even a monthly meeting.

We could split by time of day--my coleader would do better with evenings, as would one girl in our troop who has only been able to make one meeting (although she camps with us and so forth). We could split by interests (different badges, for instance), having girls sign up for what they want to attend.

We could do a lot of things besides simply dump one school and walk away. I'm going in with an open mind. Because since I sent the letter:
*A parish school mom who has always been a huge supporter of mine said "I want to talk to you because I want to make this work!"
*My coleader offered to lead one of troops if we split in some way
*Another mom has a friend who is a coleader in a different troop. She emailed me last night and is interested in joining us next year.

So I have a lot of hope that this will work. It makes me kind of kick myself for not doing this last fall (the meeting). But at that point we still had new girls and I hadn't proven myself, frankly, to a lot of parents. Now, like many small things that have converged, seems to be the right time to raise my hand and say firmly "I am drowning, I need someone else to help me get to shore."

Because lots of folks can swim, at least a little bit.

Some sort of convergence

I'm not an astrology buff. But I remember from high school, when my best friend was (and her mother was a tarot card reader--very exciting when you're 15), talk about things like convergences. When things come together and "blocks" that might have been in your way suddenly melt away.

Yesterday that sort of happened with girl scouts. It also sort of happened with the trivia night this weekend and a couple other things--suddenly everything fell into line. We have prizes for trivia. We have a full house. I think it's going to be good.

My coleader wrote me a check for what she owed me from even back to last year. She suggested that maybe, if the meetings were later, she would be interested in taking over as leader and I would move to coleader. Maybe one of two or three coleaders, because a few other moms expressed interest in helping to sustain the troop. Which would be so wonderful.

Also at girl scouts, I had an ambitious plan to complete the junior cooking badge. We started it in January but needed to really do some real cooking to get it done. We had an hour, maybe an hour and a half, because I warned parents it might run long.

The girls had chosen an international menu of a Tanzanian curry and a Jamaican avocado salad and Indian lime water, along with basmati rice, cucumbers, and a southern European phyllo dough apple strudel (not quite the baklava I made earlier this month--more of a true strudel.

I divided the girls into 4 patrols. All the girls showed up (which is impressive). I had a chicken curry team, a tofu curry team (we have a vegan in our troop, AND we were supposed to rewrite a recipe to make it healthier for the badge work). A salad team, and the apple strudel and lime water team (the apple strudel had to bake a long time so they moved quickly).

Cookie mom was there with my coleader and myself, which of course was stressful because she tries to do everything for the girls. She fusses around and wants everything to be just right. But I showed both curry teams the order to saute (I had everything mise en place, which is a wonderful way to cook if you have the help). Then I walked away and left Cookie Mom to fret there while I taught the apple strudel girls how to use phyllo dough, which is an alien idea to most everyone after all. My coleader's daughter had used a zester before and I told her she needed about a teaspoon. When I came back after having two girls from the curry teams start setting tables, she had already dumped probably a full tablespoon into the apple mixture. But lemon isn't bad so, eh, there you go.

The curries came together and we dumped chicken and tofu into them (I had been boiling the premarinated chicken before the girls arrived). My coleader was working with the girls making the salad--the right way, I might add, showing them how to cut, peel, and slice an avocado one time and then watching them to see if they got it. Each girl had a chance. The lettuce and onion were done similarly. There was no "here, I'll put the chicken in for you" fussiness like over by the curries--I eventually had to tell Cookie Mom it was their job, their badge. Flustered.

The strudel was perhaps the ugliest I'd ever seen but into the over it went. When I stepped out into the hall with the timer in hand (we'd take the strudel out while we ate the other dishes), the tables were set with table cloths, the food was lined up on a table, and the girls were sitting in place. One of the girls who is obviously ADHD and raises her hand before considering what she's going to say accidentally offered to say grace. After a blank stare moment, she pulled it off. Each table went through the line and the girls ate together.

It was the best curry I've had. The chicken was better than the tofu, but they were both excellent. The lime water tasted like nonalcoholic margaritas. The avocado salad wasn't surprising but for many girls was the first try for that vegetable. Only one or two had ever seen a cardamom pod before. About half had never consciously eaten tofu. So we worked on all that.

Dishes...it's always dishes. We washed up and got things done in time for the strudel. I will always overdo the lemon zest from now on. Wow. Cookie Mom fussed over the dishes more than she should have, but the girls still learned how to put a kitchen back in order. It's good practice for camping.

I drove home and saw Mike's car in front of the house. "Sophia," I said, "Go ask your dad to come out here." She did, he did, and by then the girls and the neighbor girl had already gone inside our house to play a bit more. I sat staring at the winter sunset behind Tower Grove Park. Enjoying the silence.

Mike and I had leftover tofu curry for dinner. I was absolutely exhausted from the day but it had gone so well.

I have, potentially, 4 more girls who want to join the troop. More thoughts on troop later. I no longer feel like it won't work out, though.

So something came together--the stars, fate, energy directed the right way. Whatever. It's been a couple of weeks of banging my head against the wall and finally I've gotten through.

My Year Thus Far

Based on what I've said on this blog:



And what I'm saying over on Utah Vestibule:

Realizations Coming Slow, Fast

I gave up yelling at my kids for Lent. I'm less than a week in and I've been pretty successful. But it's made me realize how much I've been yelling at my kids the past year or so.

Just one of many little things that have been creeping forward to the front of my brain lately. Others?

I hate fiction. No. I hate modern literature. I love most juvenile fiction dearly, and I can get cozy with things I've read before or even things that are somehow related to things I've read before (like a different Marquez or Austen, that sort of thing). But I hate the modern fiction written with the book club in mind. Books that are published with thought-provoking questions in the back. I've come to the realization that I have either failed to read or have disliked 90% of what my book club has read in the past two or three years, which is really dismaying because I like the people in book club. But it turns out, I like nonfiction. I like reading about the history of zero or an alphabetical listing of all the important people and theories surrounding prime numbers. The history of how linguists have debated the origins of language. Books about odds, about breastfeeding politics, about Benedictine thought. I like religion and humor and odd bits of history and science. Hell, I will sit and read a well-written field guide cover to cover (I'm partial to Peterson's Guides). But I just don't like pretentious fiction that thinks I'm going to discuss it later. I just read about 1/8 of Lark and Termite and flipped to the last chapter. Nauseated, I put the whole damned thing down. I'll probably go to bookclub, though, where I will drink decaf and eat snacks from Trader Joe's and listen to other people talk about the book.

I mopped the wood floors on the first floor and the front staircase today, and it made me realize it's been a long long shamefully long time since I've done that. The floors look strange now that they're really clean. Sad.

I can't keep up the pace with Girl Scouts. Next year I'm going to be Maeve's daisy troop leader or co-leader. I'm going to be City Garden's troop organizer. I love Sophia's troop and I don't want to divide it by school but my neighborhood liaison or whatever her three letter abbreviation is at girl scouts HQ really wants me to. I want other ideas and plans and buy-in from the parents but I don't want Cookie Mom to elbow her way further into my life. It's been a good study in Bridgett's Boundaries, and so far, it's going ok but I've realized it's getting pretty close to the DMZ. So a letter is going home to all parents tomorrow. I'm going to have a parent meeting about next year in two weeks' time. The saddest part of this is that it would be no big deal to continue with a large multi-school troop if it weren't for that one person.

My thyroid medication is working. My house hasn't been this clean (clean, not necessarily tidy) in years. I'm sorting and donating and cleaning and organizing. The trunk room/walk in closet off the bathroom is half empty of its boxes. The bathroom off the kitchen is almost ready for renovation. Yes, the room I'm sitting in now looks like an absent-minded professor organized the shelves, but even the guest room is getting an overhaul. In other thyroid news, the winter didn't hurt this year. Cold used to hurt. A lot. And I thought it did that to everyone. Turns out probably not, since cold is just simply cold now and not painful. And I'm having those moments of "hey, wait a minute, I'm happy" that I did when I first went on medication in 2005.

I am going to poignantly miss many things about Leo's babyhood but one of the things I will not miss is nursing this kid. I nursed all three and I'm damned proud of that. But there was something so earnest and loving about my nursing relationships with Sophia and Maeve. With Leo it's more like a wrestling match, hostage crisis, and cat fight rolled into one. He's taken to chewing again at night when I don't expect it. His latch (mouth position) is shallower than it should be, which is also a new old habit. And he's interested in picking up the pace after sunset. Also not much of a fan of that. I do a gently parent-guided weaning and I'm slow about it, but I don't think we'll make it as far as Maeve and I did (and definitely not as far as Sophia).

Connected to the first realization, my last one is about Maeve. We went to the library today and came home happy with many books about superheros. Sophia got out of the car and ran up to the house in the rain. Maeve got out of the car and I told her to watch out for the mud. She watched the mud. Dawdled. I was about to bark orders at her and stopped. She moved out of the way for me to shut the door to the car, and then slowly made her way up towards the house. And I realized that she is 5. She is not a short 8 year old. I got wet in the cold wet winter rain while she in her hooded sweatshirt slowly made her way up to the house without complaint. We got inside and she joined her sister upstairs to read their new books. Nobody was flustered or in a bad temper because I couldn't simply let her move at her pace. And how smoothly things went for several hours after.

Now realized, I wonder how long I will remember.

Missouri Apple Strudel Baklava

So I made this last night after reading encouraging things about phyllo dough at my sister-in-law's blog, Life Meets Food. I read several recipes and knew I had to use up a couple of very soft apples from the CSA...so here's what I did:

Ingredients (oven 350 degrees):
*half package phyllo dough (frozen then thawed, approximately 1/2 pound)
*3/4 c butter, melted (I did a full cup and had extra)
*2 c shredded peeled apples (it was two large apples plus half a third for me)
*1 c chopped black walnuts (see note below)
*2/3 c sugar
*1 tsp lemon zest (with my new zester! Yay!)
*2 Tbsp lemon juice
*dash lemon extract (but I like my lemon--I wouldn't make a special trip for this)
*1 Tbsp cinnamon
*1/2 cup or a bit more honey

Mix everything together, except phyllo dough, butter, and honey.

Lay 6 sheets of phyllo dough in the bottom of a buttered 9x13 pan, brushing each one with butter before placing the next one on top. My sheets were slightly longer than this but I let them curl up on the sides and sometimes pleated them in the middle.

Sprinkle half the apple mixture over phyllo in the pan. Top with 6 more sheets phyllow brushed with butter.

Sprinkle other half of apple mixture over phyllow. Top with remaining phyllo brushed with butter (there were more than 6, maybe 8 or 9 sheets?). Score into diamonds. Bake 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes.

Warm honey to make it thin and pourable. Drizzle over baklava. Cool.

We had about a third of it already; the rest is going to the St. Pius fish fry this friday for my dessert contribution.

Note about Black Walnuts: That's why I'm calling this "Missouri" baklava--65% of black walnut harvesting comes from Missouri. Actually, the walnuts, apples, honey, and butter all came from local sources in my version.

Black walnuts are not the same thing as regular walnuts at all. They have an earthy fragrance and flavor and bring something new to the table. If you don't want to go with the black walnuts, I am confident a smoother nut flavor would be just fine (walnuts, pecans?). But I liked the way this worked. Sort of sharp and apple-cinnamon-autumnal feeling to it. You could definitely tell there were black walnuts.

Haiti

Just a link. My pastor is there this week at Sacre Couer Hospital in Milot. Here's an article and some photos about his Ash Wednesday and so forth.

Coming soon on South City Musings: an apple strudel baklava recipe; photos of Leo; oh, we'll see if I have anything to say about girl scouts. Sorry I've been out of touch...Leo's been waking up 6 times a night lately with what the doctor called this morning, a "post viral cough." Which I have a feeling is her way of letting me down easy. Sigh.

Lots of Bento

I've continued to do bento lunches but I haven't taken photos each time. But here are a few recent ones!

A moon made of provelone; carrot sticks, grapes, cherry tomatoes, a bit of ham and spinach leaves. Sophia's remarks: "It was kind of a lot like a salad." But it did have homemade potato chips on the side.

Maeve written out in colby jack cheese; radishes and olives; apple wedges; two pfefferneuse cookies and some chips and salsa. This one was completely devoured.

Friday's Valentine box for Sophia. Hummus with a sprig of cilantro; apple wedges; turkey, a hard boiled egg, frozen berries, and a heart made of yellow bell pepper. And on the side were a few crackers for the hummus--Sophia thinks they get soggy if they're anywhere near wet things. Probably so. Sophia isn't big into the visual. She likes texture and flavor.

This morning's "breakfast sampler": a pitcher of milk for the granola in one set of cups and the peanut butter crunch in the other. Maeve had the mandarin oranges, but Sophia doesn't like them so she had a half an orange instead.

Today's lunch: cooked peas, celery sticks, a few frozen berries. Half a hard-boiled egg, an orange quarter, a few cheezits. Six guilty pleasure pizza rolls (gasp), and Maeve had a dried fig there as well. This lunch? Completely gone.

Feis Moments

Ok, we went to a feis today. A local one that has always gotten on my nerves for some reason. I don't know what it is. Just Sophia and I went, because she was dancing 3 soft shoe and 2 hard shoe and a team dance and we knew that could go long. Well, yeah, it went long. Some of it wasn't anybody's fault, and some of it was mysterious (team dances started at 8:30, so why were we still standing around waiting at 8:50?).

We had to get there early because we were signing up late (isn't that a great sentence?). We hadn't been able to get a 3-hand reel team together by the deadline, and so they penalize you by making you arrive at 7:30. But they only charged us one late fee instead of a each girl having to pay, so that was wonderful. One girl's parents still only paid me back half what it cost (the dance itself was 8 and we split the late fee, bringing it to 10...he handed me a 5 and explained he never writes checks for dance anymore. What?). Whatever, though. Whatever. Sometimes I'm a stage mom and sometimes I'm just mystified by what happens.

It's kind of like, well, any competition of people with all the same skills and just minute hairs of difference between each other. Like when I was watching skiing on the olympics later this evening--fractions of a second shaved off, legs not together for a millisecond, it all adds up. Sophia walks into a retirement home or a cultural festival and dances with her school and nobody says, "Oh, that girl's arms got shaky there" or "She could have been up higher on her toes." They are all impressed and wowed by what she and the other girls can do. I know, it sounds like sore losers. But it's not. We knew going in.

There were 23 girls competing in her reel; 21 in her jig; 20 in her slip jig. I can't remember the two hard shoe dance totals. But big crowds of girls all dancing to the same music, two steps, smile at the judge, look your best, blah blah blah. Sophia knew going in that there was essentially a snowball's chance in hell that she would place in any of her dances, the most likely being the reel, and even I could see as she danced it that her left arm bent at the elbow for just a moment...and that was it. Seriously. Seriously.

So that's why we put a 3-hand reel together. Team dances don't count towards advancement towards championship--and so there isn't a crowd of girls clamoring to compete in them. In Branson, our team came in first out of three. Today's was also three teams of three dancers each, and they came in second. Rightly so. The first team was really sharp. And the 3rd place team was really not.

But the rest of the day slogged on forever. The slip jigs took a full week, I think, to finish everyone up. And at some point on the other stage in the room, a girl threw up and so everyone had to wait while they cleaned it up (which they did with bare hands and paper towels, eh, and then girls had to dance on the stage in soft shoes, which have leather bottoms. GROSS).

After the slip jig, while we waited for more slip jig, she started really wearing out. Her treble jig was iffy. But then I thought her hornpipe was really good--not to place, but still worth waiting to do. We went downstairs and collected the team medal. I was tired, I had a headache, but hers was gone (the wig was off!). We walked out to the car and she was skipping. I asked her what was up, and she held up the medal.

"A silver! I got second place!" She was so excited. I reminded myself that we knew going in that she wouldn't place anywhere else. She was excited because the one thing she hoped would go well did in fact go well.

We went to lunch and she remarked that she'd never gotten second place. "Now I have all the places--first, second, third, and fourth. Maybe next time I'll come in fifth!"

The fact that THIS was her reaction? Instead of so many little girls overwrought and crushed with tears in their eyes coming off the stage? This is why Sophia is my hero. I played soccer in high school and I ran track, and I know the sting of losing a game (my soccer team my junior year was 1-12, for goodness sake). I know what it feels like to come in 5th in district after busting your rear in the 880 all season. And I've been in spelling bees and art competitions and I'm an optimist: look, I got to be here when everyone else didn't get the chance. But there is something sweet about first place that just doesn't happen with 18th. I never hoped to come in 5th in order to collect the set.

We got home and she watched a bit of the olympics before she ran out the door to play with friends. And I sit here after putting Maeve to bed in the guest room, seriously contemplating a hot shower and something-on-the-rocks, and I clicked over to the website that tabulates results.

We never used to get personal results--there's a fee for most feisanna, and when you're in beginner 1, I thought, what's the point? But I started doing it in the fall when I just had the nagging feeling she didn't place last, you know? And I wanted the confirmation (and got it). So I clicked on today's results. It's a point system.

In her reel, 3rd place earned 76 points. She earned 75.

In her NOVICE light jig (she's in the next level in light jig), 3rd place had 87. She had 85.

Treble jig scores went: 86, 84, 83, 82, 81. She had 79.

Hornpipe and slip jig weren't as close--she missed placing in slip jig by 5 points, and hornpipe (which was the first time she danced it, remember) by 4. I don't know what this would work out to be, but obviously in reel she came in 4th. Her light jig was probably 5th. This is part of why I dislike this feis--at others, they would have listed through 4th place (or 6th sometimes) regardless of how many girls tied for second, say. This one sometimes posts through 6th place, sometimes only the top 3 places (depending on ties? I don't know...)

Her notes from the judges, three or four words each, may or may not be useful--the hornpipe one is, but what does the one judge want by "more push" and "more lift"? Ah well. I'll let her puzzle it out. Because she's aiming for 5th place at the next feis, so...

So, I have sour mix in the fridge and amaretto in the pantry and a baby who is going to be asleep in 20 seconds flat if I go nurse him. Law and Order after a shower and all will be well.

Cookie, cookie, cookie

Ok, so last year this time I was nervous about Cookie Mom. Was she going to get results from her 1000 boxes of cookies purchase, or was it going to be some really scary nightmare of a bipolar episode and she would disappear into the night instead of facing the insurmountable problem of owing the girl scouts $3500?

This year, she told me in January, "We won't be doing what we did last year." I assured her I never would expect anyone to do that.

Cookie order forms were due 10 days ago and my cookie manager called me the day they were due. There were a few outstanding forms. Including Sophia's, ahem. But we tracked down the missing pieces and everyone got her the forms. Of course, Cookie Mom had a story--her brother-in-law had borrowed her car to go pick up his mother in some godforsaken outstate Missouri town. And the cookie form was in the car. But he was almost home and she'd get it to us. "But I hope you're not counting on us selling what we did last year," she said in a tone that said to me that somehow the snafu from last year was partly my fault. Maybe I read too much into it. I try to take her lightly because otherwise I'd be furious all the time, though, and this seemed dripping with that connotation.

After kids were in bed at my cookie manager's house, she showed up all a flutter as usual (according to my CM, who was ready for her). "I rounded up each set of cookies to the nearest case to make it easier for you. I've done this before."

Rounding up to the case means to the next dozen--if there are 54 boxes of do-si-dos sold, you round up to 60. Sounds like it would make things easier, actually. It's a lot easier to count cases than to keep individual boxes in your head and carry the 4, that kind of thing. But see, nobody else has rounded. I don't believe it actually makes anything easier.

My CM and her husband glanced at the form when she left. In order to "round up" she'd purchased almost 200 boxes herself, giving her daughter the nice tidy number of 360. Which means she gets the teddy bear (whatever--but I'm sure that's why it got to that round number).

Overall, our troop sold more this year than last, even though Cookie Mom only "sold" a third of what she did last year. I am very pleased with our total but I have new problems.

My co-leader has a full time job now. And I KNOW Cookie Mom will try to take her spot. If she tries, that's the last straw. The troop will split in two and she can try to handle the girls from the parish school and I'll take the others. It would be too much. Really. My girls span three grades at two main schools, with three other girls from the neighborhood. It would make me cry every day if I had Cookie Mom as a co-leader. So now that I've defined my breaking point, anybody want to place bets on when she offers?

Three Things

From an email from my mom. Because I have a bit of time, not enough to get something productive done. And because I need to get back into the habit of typing. For Deloney if no one else.

Three Things About Me:

Three names I go by:
1. Bridgett
2. Mom
3. Vesper Sparrow. But only online. Not in real life.

Three places I've lived:
1. Pearland, Texas
2. The Colony, Texas
3. Palm Desert, California

Three places I've worked:
1. Patrick Henry Elementary (St. Louis Public Schools)
2. St. Pius V Grade School
3. Marguerite Hall, Saint Louis University (I was an RA)

Three places I have been (You can't "not be" on a boat. What you've been is not on boats...)
1. Andersonville, Georgia
2. Big Sur, California
3. San Antonio, Texas (these are just three that came to mind, you realize)

Three things I like to eat:
1. Black tomatoes
2. guacamole
3. chocolate chip cookies

Three things I'm looking forward to:
1. Trivia night for 10th Life Cat Rescue on the 27th (I'm running it, yikes)
2. good biking weather
3. the next time I have coffee with Ann

Three things I'm dreading:
1. Standardized test season
2. the next girl scout meeting with cookie mom
3. freezing rain and/or wintry mix, whenever it may be coming

Three things that amused me this week:
1. Maeve's choice of valentine's card (a photoshopped Mona Lisa with a puppy head. She worked on it. It's hilarious)
2. waking Maeve up after a 3 hour nap in my bed (so she could eat dinner and go to her own bed) last night: "Mom, where did you sleep last night?" She thought it was morning.
3. The View From Saturday, which I reread to go to sleep on Sunday night.

Ok, that's all. Now to go to Maeve's class for the valentine's hoo-ha.

Today...

Today Maeve announced, in tears, that she was running away from home if I didn't turn the car radio back to the Phil Collins song ("In The Air Tonight") I skipped past on the radio on my way to NPR. When I probed her further, I discovered she still doesn't have a plan past the running part. And she's too short to unlock the front door so I'm not that worried yet. Still, though, not sure how to cure this (besides listening to Phil Collins of course).

Today Leo, placed upon his little scooter bike thing he got for his birthday, rode around on it happily for nearly a half hour.

Today Sophia wanted leftover chicken noodle soup for breakfast.

Today Mike, freshly home from Beautiful Exciting Peoria, is working late.

Today I scraped off the car to go to coffee, where nobody was. I spent fifteen minutes reminding myself it wasn't about me. Then Ann showed up and lo, it was so not about me. Elyssa came, too, around 9, and we all had a good chat with babies playing on the floor.

Today we are getting a new key for the new car (a second key, that is).

Today is the camp pull for Girl Scouts. Meaning, the lottery for spring camping. I submitted things...I hope they got them...I'm waiting for the call.

Today at our CSA there is only apples in the produce. I'm getting bread, pasta, salsa, tortillas--that sort of thing--but only apples and they say they're good for cooking only at this point. It truly is the end of the season. Waiting for greens to come...time to plant me some heirloom seeds inside because

Today I realized this has been my favorite winter in at least 10 years. It helps that I have enough energy to do what needs to be done. And one of the things is to plant those seeds I have sitting in the drawer. They lose viability with age so I'm planting a bunch of them. I refuse to buy new this year, I have so many leftovers. I will buy a few plants come the spring, but this year is about using up.

Today I emptied yet another rubbermaid tub from Mike's closet (really almost a trunk room, frankly, off the bathroom, full of storage). I'm setting the lofty goal of going through every box in there and hacking our hoarded horde of stuff down to a minimum.

Today, though, I realized that my guest room is sacrificing itself for the sake of the house again. It's a pit. I need to shovel it out.

Today is leftover beans and rice with andouille sausage for dinner with bread from the CSA.

Today is cold but it doesn't hurt me as much as it used to.

Today I'm coming to terms with the fact that Leo is down to a single nap. Grieving.

Today I am baking cookies for Valentines Day parties at school.

Today I found out that yes, we can enter Sophia into the 3-hand reel with the two other girls who danced in Branson, but we will have to pay the late fee and get there early on Saturday morning. But you know what? I'm going to if they agree to.

Today I am watching Law & Order CI reruns on Netflix and drinking half-decaf coffee in the afternoon while I try to get Leo to take that single nap.

Today? Like many days in the past 4 or 5 months, I'm sitting here realizing I'm happy.

C'Mon Snow

You can do it! You can do it!

But you're not, are you?

Sigh.

Going to bed with no expectations of an easy morning with kids sleeping in...drinking coffee and listening to Diane Rehm on NPR...making homemade waffles and then letting them watch Superman while they eat them...and then...

I should just stop.

But look. It's so so pretty.

We deserve a snow day at Chez Wissinger....

What I forgot to tell you

This past Christmas I shot an air rifle.

This past Christmas, Sophia did, too.

And Maeve.

And it was really fun.

This past weekend, we were down in Cairo again for Mike's and Leo's birthdays, and somehow wound up at the shop again. Mary and Steve shot the rifle. Mike and I did, too. I want to shoot something requiring a little more skill now. Or maybe at harder targets--it's two pennies a shot with the air rifle pellets, which is a deal that would be hard to beat.

I am more convinced than ever, though, that I will get archery certified with the girl scouts, though. And maybe I'll shoot some more down at the inlaws. Soon.

Doesn't my father-in-law look amused behind me?

For Plaidshoes (and so many others right now)

In the car with Maeve coming home from preschool on Thursday, she sighed that wistful child sigh and said, "Mommy, do wishes come true?"

Not knowing what I was getting into, I bravely stepped forward. "Sometimes, sweetie. Some wishes come true. Like I often wish that things will work out, or I'll feel better in the morning, that sort of thing. Those often do come true. They're like little prayers or promises or..." I trailed off.

"My wishes don't," she said with incredible sadness. Sometimes with this one, I worry so much. How many ways am I screwing up as her mother? How many times have I let her down this past year alone? How can I make it better? My heart aches and I want to pull over to the side of the road and cry for her, for what she yearns for that I can't give her.

"What do you mean?" I ask quietly. I turn off the radio and glance back in the mirror.

"Like sometimes I wish that I would wake up and have super powers, but it never happens," she says, totally dejected.

"Oh, honey," I say, the burden lifting from my heart. "Those sorts of wishes, yeah, those aren't likely to come true. But it's good to pretend, isn't it?"

"I wish I had a super power," she says with that same sigh.

"Me too," I agree.

"Can I have a cookie with lunch?"

"Of course you can."

Really Busy

Sorry I've been out of touch--one of the longest stretches in a while. I'll have time this weekend, I think (hope). Nothing is bad--just busy. I'm working on a TRIVIA NIGHT for February 27th, mostly, but also working through some Girl Scout planning, Sophia dyslexia stuff, Maeve behavior stuff, Leo getting over being sick but still has antibiotic-induced diarrhea stuff (ok that's bad, but nothing else is).

I went to the doctor today and she increased my thyroid medication again. Not by much--if my original dose was 20, then yesterday I was on 80, and tomorrow I'll be on 95. Those aren't real numbers, just ratios because I'm on two different medications. Anyway. Too much math in my head. It must be winter.

Quick notes:
*The new car is a Mazda 5 (a prime number, I might add). I love it. I just realized I already said this. But I'll say it again. It is easy to drive (as long as we aren't driving through the Ozarks in a blizzard), comfortable to be a passenger in (even in the middle seat, where I sat through the most harrowing part in order to help entertain Leo).

*Another feis coming up next weekend and Sophia shrugged at me. Not in a cocky way. Just a shrug. "Do you know your hornpipe?" I demanded. "I learned the second step Monday." "Isn't this something you should have already known?" She shrugged. She's so funny. She's going to go down in flames next weekend--it's a huge feis--but we both have realistic expectations. I'm going to push for another 3-hand, though, since that went so well. And who knows? She's up to a field of 22 competitors so far in most of her dances, and her best advanced beginner dance isn't at this feis for reasons that are still hazy to me. But she's going to practice this weekend and go to class and that's all I'm requiring. I'm not a big fan of this feis, frankly, but I won't go into that until afterward.

*Genealogy is sucking up a lot of time as well. I've met some half-second cousins (or whatever), the other descendants of Jennie Blake, who is my all time favorite ancestor, as you probably remember.

Must sleep now.