Countdown to Camp

I have lately gotten off track and have been blogging about things other than camp. I did promise this blog would have a high focus on Colorado, mountains, humidity-free summer (jealous, aren't you?), marriage status during constant togetherness with no kids to distract us...



Perhaps the absence of camp content in this blog is avoidance. If I don't blog, or think, about ALL the things that need to be done prior to camp, perhaps I won't have to sit in a corner, rocking, sucking my thumb and crying for my mommy.



Needless to say, it's busy. All of the typical end of the year items, plus preparing an entire family for camp. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, an entire family. This means that not only are the Princess and Curly Locks headed for camp, but so is Man Child. This has come about due to several factors:

1. Chef Boy and I really want him to go.

2. He procrastinated at figuring out just how he could sit around all summer and play video games.

3. Repeat number 2.



After many discussions and several days to get used to it, Man Child seems to be looking forward to it. He may not EVER admit this, and I can handle that, because I still have the quote he stated so eloquently as we wound through the switchbacks after I picked him up from the final day of camp the last time he went 2 years ago... ready? ...



Wait- there is a backstory that makes it WAY more potent. Man Child had to be, and I am not exaggerating, drug to camp. He refused even in the closed quarters of the car on the way to Colorado. He insisted he would not have any fun and why, oh why, could he not just sit at home and play video games with his friends. We were, in his eyes, torturing him with an experience not many get to enjoy, which without working there would never be affordable, that opens up so many opportunities for him.. yada, yada. He was sure he would be miserable, if not eaten by a bear. (don't make such promises, I'm sure I at least thought...)





OK, now to the quote. Ready?... "Mom, I wish you could keep going to camp until you were 98 years old."- Man Child



I will never forget this, nor will I let Man Child. This is how I know he will not be miserable and at this point, I don't even hope he is eaten by a bear. He's on a roll in such a good way it is wonderful. It is also amazing to think that only about a month ago I was sure our family would be called in to SRS I was having so many thoughts of wanting to harm him. In the nicest way possible, of course.



I have to insert a short bragging time now. Man Child is feeling really good about himself. He ended a tumultuous year on a very good note. At the recent 9th Grade Awards ceremony he received many awards, including the President's award for Academic Excellence. He feels smart and is extremely modest, let me tell you! This, paired with the amazing 9th Grade Formal expeience - did I mention he let me blow dry his hair? I was balling! I haven't seen any part of this boy that can't be seen through thread bare t-shirts since he was 8 and started showering, and he let me close enough to groom him! This is huge! Anyhoo, he's in such a great place. This is yet another reason I am so excited he is going to camp. It is an amazing place where you learn about yourself, can express true self, and are able to grow. I think it is a pivotal time for him to attend and I am thrilled!



The countdown is: 10 days. Only 10 short days until we leave. Because gas prices are insane, we are thinking of ways to take our more efficient Honda. This would mean our family of 5 in a 2 door Accord instead of spread out in the mini-van. Stop laughing, Julie! The idea is to form a convoy with my nephew who is working his 2nd year as a camp counselor. He has a car that 1 or 2 of us could ride in.
That would mean a countdown to camp of only 8 days!!!! AGHHHHH!!!

This will only work if we get our shit together in enough time to leave 2 days early. I know that doesn't seem like much of a difference, but oh my gosh, life is crazy enough for it to matter tremendously!



As I sit on the floor, counting underwear and attempting to pair socks, I try to look passed the agony of the preparations and see the mountains. Twin Owls on the way to Glen Haven. The butterfly house on the sharpest curve in the road. The first glimpse of mountain top that we see far before we are to our mountain home, which always makes me cry. The T in the road at Lyons that marks the beginning of the climb to Estes Park. St. Mallow Catholic Church, sitting on a huge boulder, where Catholic Chef Boy worked in college. Mount Meeker. The first sighting of elk. Fish Creek Road. Candy's Pie Hole. The freezing mountain stream outside our cabin window.

These thoughts make it hurt a little less when Princess declares she is in no way wearing those stupid shoes for camp, and why would she? it will only save me $50 on new shoes?? That's about a tank and a half of gas...



Did I mention, it's only 10 days till paradise?

My other 2 cents

Ok, here comes part two of my 2 cents. The other topic for which I climb deftly upon my soapbox is... women's reproductive rights.

Let's really call it like it is. It's the abortion issue.

Again, the apology for all I am about to offend.

Recently, as I was driving to the school of the Princess, I innocently look left to check for traffic and what do I see? Not a mack truck about to hit me, not the afore-mentioned hum-vee, but a panel truck with a 10 week old fetus plastered on it, I would say about 1000 times it's actual size.

My mouth agape, I averted my original route and turned left. I had the light, so I turned at the intersection looking (mouth still agape) right into the driver's seat of said truck, trying desperately to get the driver to look at me so I could shake my finger in shame at him. What do I see upon completing my turn? A second truck with another fetus. Neither driver dared to look at me. I think they felt my scorn, however.

So, I cried.

Of course I did! Who wouldn't cry at such a blatant disregard for humanity? Who wouldn't cry at the thought of all the women who will be forced to see this and think twice about a perfectly good decision that is, I MUST remind you, completely legal? I can't stand these trucks. I can't stand what is inside these trucks, which is a huge display of horrific fear inducing, shock therapy that attempts to uneducate society. I rephrase: miseducate.

I love how the pro-lifer, right wingers take anything a lefty says and makes it sound like immorality on a stick, but they find it acceptable to advocate for bloody fetuses to be shown on campuses and en route in MY town. In actuality, most leftist beliefs, Democratic beliefs, are based on what is good for all. I, personally, find that pretty moral. I know it means evening the playing field so the richies don't get it all, and isn't that just so unfair... I know it means actually considering the consequences of legislation before signing it into law.... I know it means giving a shit about the people the law is intended to help...

Back to the issue at hand. Last week, in KS, our Democratic, pro-choice governor signed a scary piece of legislation. Deemed "Alexa's Law" it gives prosecutors the right to charge someone with murder, manslaughter or battery for intentionally harming a fetus. It was spurred by the murder of a pregnant 14 year old Wichita girl who was murdered last year. The problem is this: the law defines a "person" exists from conception to birth.

The ramifications of this mean that now the panel truck people can say that there is precedent that life begins at conception and therefore, abortion is murder.

I think every person should be able to define life for themselves.
I think every person should have the right to terminate a pregnancy if they feel it is the right decision.
I think every person can think what they want, do what they feel is right, and practice what they preach.
I DO NOT think anyone should be able to throw a 25 foot fetus in my face, force me to have to explain it to my child, or make women feel they are murderers.

I DO discuss issues with my children and I am not embarrassed to do so, however I don't need this image as a prop.

Aboout 2 years ago, I read about a pro-life demonstration that was going to happen in our town. They were planning to line up on the sidewalk on the corner of two very busy streets. I figured there would be a planned counter-demonstration. As I drove by, I realized there wasn't.

I had to do something. I couldn't just drive by and let them think no one disagreed.

So, I parked, ripped off a piece of a cardboard box from my trunk, found a marker and made a sign that said, "Pro- Choice is the Right Choice".

I was shaking as I walked silently the entire way past the people with their own signs. I held it high as I passed lawn chairs with older ladies sitting in them who let me know they would pray for me. One lady looked at me aghast and said, "This is a pro LIFE event!" I told her I realized that.

After I walked all the way down the line and all the way back, they packed up and left. It was probably the scheduled end of the protest, but it sure made me feel powerful and brave I had decided to act.

Here are my overriding messages on this topic: 1. I personally believe that in our current society, making abortion illegal is a death sentence for women; will cause a multitude more homeless, unloved, abused children; and would be a dark cloud hanging over the outdoor wedding of our inalienable rights.
2. We must act. We must take markers and cardboard from our car and make signs. We must organize our lady and men friends, educate our daughters and sons, and ensure the right to choose exists.

Ok, stepping down now, did you all hear a loud thump?

Katha Pollitt:
"Young women need to know that abortion rights and abortion access are not presents bestowed or retracted by powerful men (or women) -- Presidents, Supreme Court justices, legislators, lobbyists -- but freedoms won, as freedom always is, by people struggling on their own behalf."

Things Heard on 3rd Grade Field Trip

Thursday I accompanied the Princess and the rest of the third grade on a field trip around town. The trip coincides with their study of local history, including Quantralls raid, underground railroad, and the Jawhawkers.

It was fun. Mostly it was fun because these kids are pure entertainment.

Here are a few quotes from the trip.

"My Uncle Ralph is a code cracker. He can crack any code or lock."

"J---, stop taking my starbursts."

"My cousin's nickname is booger."

"Your face is a booger!"
(This whole "your face is... fill in the blank... is very popular in this set. I find it annoying and abusive, but they all seem to understand it is in jest. I hope.)

"I'm so thirsty I will die!"

"I can lift this table. I have a lot of muscles. See!" This was followed by a demonstration of how he could, indeed, lift the picnic table at which I and 2 other kiddos sat. Very impressive, I must say.

"Miss L---, are ghosts real. I mean, really, real?"

"Mom, take off that backpack, you look like a dork."

"Don't even go in that train. It is totally boring."

"Your face is totally boring."

This trip reminded me of a trip to the Zoo I went on with Curly Locks when she was in Kindergarten. I sat across from this totally cute, tiny boy. I like him very much and found him to be hysterical.

That was prior to the field trip.

The entire, and I am NOT exaggerating, way to the Zoo, said child repeated in various ways,

"I'm thirsty."

It went something like this...

"I'm thirsty."

me- "Well, we don't have water on the bus, but we'll be there soon."

"But, I'm thirsty."
"Oh, I know you can make it! You're tough. And they have drinking fountains at the zoo."
"But, I'm thirsty."

Keep in mind, this kid is completely adorable. He looks like an African American version of that Lipnicki kid from "Jerry McGuire", with little round glasses. You could eat him up. By now, I wanted to chew him up and spit him out! He said all of this with a big smile on his face and he wasn't whining. Just very matter of fact.

"Ok, when we get there, you can get a drink. But there is no way to get a drink on the bus."

"But, I'm thirsty."

"How about we play a game to think about something else?"

"I'm too thirsty."

"I'm thirsty too, but we just have to wait. Hey, look at that cool motorcycle driving by us. Do you like motorcycles?"

"I'm thirsty."

About the time we were approaching Olathe, around 30 miles, the teacher turned around and told him to can it, in so many words.

He turned away from me, slid down in his bus seat, and barely audibly repeated,

"But, I'm really thirsty."

I should have said,
"Kid, your face is thirsty!"

Here comes my 2 cents

I'm just going to put the issues out there and let's see what happens. I feel it is important to generate conversation and discussion about these issues that DO affect us.

If you read my very first blog about "Where is the revolution?" you'll understand I can't keep quiet about certain things. I apologize in advance for all the people I might offend in just a sec, if they keep reading, and welcome comments that disagree. I don't believe in a homoginized world and certainly don't want to live in one, so please bring it on and let's get something started.

Today I cried on the way home from Topeka. I cried as I passed a convoy of army vehicles. I don't know where they were from or where they were going. Maybe they were headed to help those in need in the little town in KS that was wiped out by a freak tornado recently. I certainly hope so.

I cried because they represented to me this war we are in. I cried watching on television as GW sent us there; I cried when not enough of us voted GW out of office to see a more direct end to the war; and today I cried for each and every life lost to such insanity.

War and the military are topics I cannot discuss with Chef Boy. He grew up an army brat and claims I am uninformed. Maybe so, but to me, it doesn't take a military genius OR a rocket scientist to know that war is good for nothing. (I'm stepping up on the soapbox now...) It is my view that in this day and age, our country (you know, the most powerful country in the world...) should be able to use intelligence tactics, cultural knowledge and sensitivity, and relationship development to forgo war. This, Chef Boy says, is a naive view. Well, call me Shirley Temple then and give me GW's number!

I'm not saying there aren't people who have proven they are bad, evil, even; but why do we need to slay hundreds of thousands- or even 1- innocent person to irradicate such evil? I remember one news report about a year into the war about a battle that almost encited in the streets of Iraq b/c OUR military was near a holy place on a holy day for the Iraqis. Now, don't you think SOMEONE should have known the holy days for Iraqis? Come the *&^$# on!!! It is this type of un-intelligence that makes war stupid and avoidable.

And now I must admit to another belief that is very strong and hard to admit because most people respond as if I am heartless. But, since I'm griping, I might as well put myself out on the line.

When I cried today, I cried for every person who lost life in the war. However, I do feel that if you are willing to sign up for any branch of the US military, you know what you are asking for. The military exists to violently act. In basic training you learn to shoot guns and throw grenades, not frost cakes and throw parties. I'm a SW, so you know I'm not heartless, but don't be stupid and join the military and then complain about going to war. It's a distinct possiblity, unfortunately.
I am not lying when I tell you I would send my kid into hiding faster than you can delete my blog from your favorites if a draft were to be initiated. I would start singing "Oh Canada" so quick I'd look good to a hockey team. There is no way, and I am an unwaivering supporter of my children in whatever they want to do (unless it hurts them or someone else) and this is the one thing I simply would not allow. In its current state, I would never advocate for anyone to join any branch of the US Military. It's a death sentence.

I am parched from such vehement statements and must save soapbox issue number 2 for tomorrow's entry. I know you all are waiting anxiously. I'll give you a hint... I cried last week, too, when I saw a certain image on a panel truck driving through town. If you saw it too, let me know how you feel about it. Personally, I'm not into having other people stick their views down my throat... oh wait, is that what I'm doing?

"Action indeed is the sole medium of expression for ethics." Jane Addams

Mom plus Man Child Take on Kansas City

Yesterday I was lucky enough to get to spend the entire day with Man Child. Today I say "lucky"; tomorrow could be another story, but let's just celebrate when we can, shall we?

Man Child was on career day yesterday. He was supposed to shadow someone with an actual career, but the person we had all set up had to go out of town. So, Man Child followed his Mommy on a day of catering deliveries to Kansas City. It was a great opportunity for us to talk about things.

The day started with the usual confusion that is our life; one car in the shop because I guess you are not supposed to drive on a "donut" tire for 4 months- especially through large potholes that make up the streets of Lawrence, KS; then the inability for me to communicate with Chef Boy is Bad, due to the non-speaking status of our relationship; also I took an Excedrin PM at around 11:45 the night before in an attempt to get rid of a 3 day migraine, and I was still very groggy.

So, after dropping all off at their respective places Man Child and I head over to pick up the food at the catering ladies' shop. Then, we head off to KC with plans to lunch and hit a cool vintage store called Boomerang to shop for Man Child's outfit for the 9th grade formal. The 9th grade formal is a dance to which you don't really have to wear formal clothes, but it's in a hotel ballroom, so there is some level of mystique.

On the trip, we discussed said formal- what friends were going? Who had asked actual girls to go along? Did he secretly have a date he wasn't telling me about? Did he mind I secured a shift serving punch? (serving punch should be considered in air quotes, b/c of course I'm really going to spy!) Several friends were going. One had asked a girl, that he knew of. Pishaw!!!! "You're not coming to serve punch; you're going to spy on me!" I promised to be nice and to leave if I was style cramping. He actually fell for this.

Approaching the turn lane in the middle of the city, I saw there was a man with a cardboard sign. I started moaning. I moan b/c this sight makes me very sad and cynical about our world. I told Man Child I needed to give him money. Man Child thinks I'm crazy. I held $5 out the open window and asked if it would help. The man, a "homeless Vet trying to get home" told me he was saving for bus fare to South Dakota. Man Child told me how he is regularly approached in our downtown by people needing money. I told him it didn't matter what this man might use the money for- bus fare, a meal, a bottle of booze- we must help as we can to show those that are down that there is hope. He responded to goad me with, "They got themselves there." As fire flew out of my ears, he just laughed. He loves arguing that side of things with me. I just reminded him of his paper from second grade. It was one of those sentence starters with space for a drawing above it. The beginning of the sentence was "If I were President... " Man Child finished it with, "I would help the poor." His drawing was of primal stick figures, one larger than the other, handing down a wad of green. I've got this hanging in our family room to remind me of his true nature when I feel he might be possessed by demons.

After delivering the lunch, at which Man Child was a HUGE help, we set out to have pizza. YUM! Then, on to Boomerang. Boomerang is full of all things wonderful and vintage. I love it. Man Child purchased an actual sharkskin suit. I did not know sharkskin suits were not made of sharskin until yesterday. It is really, really cool. He also bought some bowling shoes to go with the suit and for everyday use. I try to play off the fact I am thrilled he is willing to wear funky, different clothes. Who am I kidding, I'm thrilled he's willing to wear CLEAN clothes!

We had a really great time. He conferred with me about what looked good- he tried on things I suggested... it was fabulous. We headed home feeling great about the day and great about each other.

I went to pick up the Princess at school. When I arrived home, there was Man Child, donning his shiny, dark green, sharkskin suit; bowling shoes on his size 13 feet; lounging in the hair dryer chair in the family room. With his stark red hair, he was quite a site. Then he started asking me what I thought he should wear under his suit. I nearly cried.

Sometimes, when they are SO big and capable of such obnoxious behavior, it is difficult to remember they are our babies and once so entirely dependent on us. Someone said the other day that god, or whomever is in charge, made teenagers so impossible to make it easier for parents to let go.

I figure this is probably right; but I don't think I'll ever be ready to let them go.
Right now, I've got that feeling when you hear a baby cry and whether it's yours or not, you can feel you have let down.

I've got to stop before I begin lactating all over the computer.

Carnival

I decided to name this post Carnival, because it really describes many areas of my life right now. No, I don't mean trapeze in the bedroom, I mean chaos, that if you look really, really close just might be fun.

The most literal example of carnival in my life is actually, well... a carnival! Tomorrow is our school carnival of which I have planned for some number of years. I don't really remember how many years it's been, but a parent recently asked when we would start calling it the "Pursegirl" memorial carnival. Maybe he knows this year might actually kill me.

It's fun, it really is. But it's also insane, especially for me, the pressure promted person that I am. I learned about how I'm pressure prompted, not a procrastinator, at the prestigious leadership center. I believe them, since they are so prestigious and all. Anyhoo, it is insane. The most insane part is not how it took me and another parent over 3 hours to pick out prizes for the games, or wondering whether it will rain and I have to truck everything inside making teachers wish PTA never existed, but the recruiting of volunteers. Some people say at some schools it's mandatory. Do you think I could get a bill passed in a special session of our KS legislature on this topic? Oh, I forgot, they can't even get their other work done... OOPS, I'm being bitchy. I had great help this year and the volunteer recruitment hasn't even killed me because it's currently (and I do mean right now at this moment) killing someone else.

Then there is the house carnival. Chef Boy and I are currently trying to write a book, or at least a pamphlet, entitled "Home Purchasing with Absolutely No Money". It might also be entitled, "How to Kill Your Banker as He Laughs Himself to Death While You Ask If He'll Loan You 100% of a $230,000 Loan". Chapter One will tell how smart it is to fall in love with a house weeks before you are leaving town for over 2 months and while still in a lease. The following chapters are how many door slams it takes before divorce papers are filed and you are having nightmares about getting walloped in the head the number of your credit score plus the address of the house you MUST have.

And then there is the truly amazing carnival experiences that involve your wonderful friends. Just two nights ago two great ladies and I attempted (this will soon be explained) to go and see, on the big screen for the first time since 1987ish... Dirty Dancing. In a city only 30 minutes away, Dirty Dancing was being shown for two shows only. One friend saw a brief commercial about this, brought it up, and we were on our way.
SOLD OUT!!!!!!
Who would have known every child of the 80's in the tri-state area was also going to show up for this?! On a Tuesday night, for gracious sakes! Some of these 80's bitches bought their tickets online and simply waltzed up to get them from will-call. They weren't forced to stand outside the theater looking pathetic, craving popcorn and red vines and multiple shots of P. Swayze shirtless. We had very hungry eyes.

We did fight it- I decided to organize and mobilize- so I approached the manager to see if there was a solution to our problem. I stated how more than 30 women and one man whose entry to this movie was positively correlated to the occurrance of a BJ later that night were turned away and that was lost profits! I asked could she not move it to a larger theater to accomodate us? I suggested we wait till a few minutes after the start of the film to see if some people didn't show up. Nothing worked. Why didn't we just buy tickets to another movie and sneak in, you ask. Because Baby would not have approved! So, we got in the car, called our husbands who were SHOCKED that so many people actually care about this movie (this resulted in their chances at loving matching the guy who did not get his date into this movie) and headed back home to get the largest meals possible, pick up the DVD, and go to watch it on a big screen TV.

I am so glad my life is full of this type of carnival. Our night was not what we planned, but so not ruined. I never laughed so hard while using white bread as a peace offering or eating a fish I'd never heard of. (It was fried, so what did I care?)

Carnival, Baby, bring it on!

P.S. I forgot to give my middle child an AKA- so here it is: Curlylocks.

Also, thanks to everyone who didn't point out I used "to" when I really meant "too" in a previous post. I'm very anal on grammar, especially the uses of "to, too" and also "tutu".