Optimist vs. Optometrist
It’s exceedingly rare for anyone to accuse me of being an optimist. In fact, I’d wager a guess that most folks who know me would peg me for a pessimist, but they’re all wrong, because what I ACTUALLY am is a REALIST.
Because, mostly, things suck. Except when they don’t.
Anyway, deep down in the darkest recesses of my cynical soul, it turns out that I occasionally wish things into existence. (No, I’ve never read The Secret. Nor do I care to. Clearly the person (people?) who wrote that wished for a lot of gullible people to buy their book.) But really, who amongst us hasn’t just hopedhopedhoped for something until it happened? I’m not saying it always works, but odds are that OCCASIONALLY it will.
I do try to hope for useful things, like for an Otto or for my child’s creeping crud to either clear up or at least get correctly diagnosed. But sometimes I hope for frivolous things, it’s true. read more…
Hiccup cure
Tonight at dinner I came down with an impressive case of hiccups. Like, gut-wrenching, popping-out-against-my-will kind of hiccups.
My family—being the kind and supportive lot they are—found this hilarious. They asked me questions to force me to talk and be interrupted by big *HIC*s, and laughed and laughed. When I said it wasn’t funny, they kindly decided to try to help me get rid of them.
I was mid-sentence when Chickadee leaned in on my right. “AHHHHHHHH!” she screamed. I rubbed my ear. And *HIC*ed again.
“I guess that didn’t work,” commented Otto, as Monkey leaned in on my left. “AHHHHHHHHH!” he screamed. I rubbed my other ear.
Conversation resumed.
I was saying something to Otto (and still hiccuping) when Chickie started going, “Hey Mom, hey Mom, hey Mom.” I tried to ignore her. Finally she blurted out, “I’M PREGNANT!”
Otto and I exchanged looks as the kids cracked up. There may have been some discussion about some things not being funny.
But, um, my hiccups seem to be gone….
My old pal, senseless guilt
I’m wondering if there’s ever a time when one of my children will have a problem I can’t seem to fix that it DOESN’T cause me to buckle under the weight of crushing guilt at my inefficacy.
Maybe when they’re 18? 20? 40??
(Don’t answer that. I suspect I won’t like the answer.)
So I thought we were doing everything right as regards Chickadee’s mysterious skin affliction; we followed the steroid shot with all of the dermatologist’s recommendations—stronger allergy meds, scent-free, chemical-free, additive-free shampoo, soap, and detergents, as well as an afternoon spent painting every metal stud and button on all of her pants with clear nail polish. And her skin cleared up with the steroid shot, and promptly began bubbling and rashing up as soon as the prednisone cleared her system. read more…
Love is full of surprises
We got up at an unholy hour yesterday and hit the road early enough to miss the traffic, which meant we’d already been on the road for hours when we stopped for breakfast. Our last Cracker Barrel meal for the foreseeable future, and not a moment too soon. My arteries were starting to congeal. (That’s just my opinion, of course. The children’s opinion on Cracker Barrel is something like “HOORAY FOR SHOT-SIZED BOTTLES OF MAPLE SYRUP! CAN I CHUG IT?”)
Back here at the ranch, we began the post-vacation madness, the part where you wish you could take a vacation from your vacation. Actually, I was prepared for it to be much more drudgery than it turned out to be; in short order the camper had been emptied, four loads of laundry were complete, the garden was watered (two hours later, it rained, of course), the pool was clean, and the children were playing Mario Kart with glee, just as the good Lord intended.
I expected yesterday to be a grim march of chores, and instead it was downright pleasant, with everyone helping, and little bits of fun along the way. read more…
Memorials, and robot kitties
You know your vacation was just the right length when you’ve had an absolute blast, but are starting to daydream about sleeping at home in your own bed. (Not that the camper bed isn’t also our own bed. But it’s just not the same. At home, there are hardly ever screaming children or motorcycle dudes with mullets directly under our window at 10:00 at night.) I plan to fall backwards onto our bed later today after we arrive home and make a snow angel. Er, blanket angel.
The camping itself has been hugely entertaining, but I was not prepared for how interesting I would find Gettysburg. Otto is a history buff, and more specifically, a war history buff. I watched Band of Brothers with him over the course of a month or two and spent most of it peeking through my fingers and asking, “Is everyone dead now?” I mostly just find it disturbing. But it’s hard to be unmoved when surrounded by all that history in one place. Even for me.
And the day got even MORE interesting when we were joined by Amy-Go! read more…
History AND math!
So we spent the day checking out Gettysburg, which was really just enough time for us to realize that we should’ve planned to spend at least two days here, if not a full week. Nevertheless, we crammed as much into the day as we possibly could (and I will tell you about it soon), and finally capped off the adventure with ice cream at an old-fashioned malt shop before coming back to the campground.
After a day spent wandering around in the heat, learning more Civil War history than a person can reasonably be expected to digest, ice cream is the perfect reward, no? Well, perhaps not if you’re saddled with meanies for parental units who settle the negotiating over various confections by pointing out that a single scoop of ice cream in a waffle cone costs exactly the same as a double scoop on a regular cone, and probably has an equivalent amount of sugar, too.
Given a choice between the two, which do you then choose for the most optimal, bang-for-your-buck dessert experience? Please show your work.
You can’t go home again
Except, of course, that never stops most of us from trying to, anyway.
When we pulled up (soggy) stakes at the Adirondack Park and headed back down to my dad’s house, we remarked that this particular leg of the trip had been surprisingly entertaining in spite of the rain, but that it was really a shame the weather hadn’t cleared up while we were there. Of course as soon as we got settled down at Dad’s, the sun came out and it’s been beautiful the last few days. While we’ve been, you know, sleeping inside.
So that was a little disappointing, sure, but on the other hand, my stepmom makes a killer cappuccino with her fancy machine, and that was much better each morning than my propensity to forget that the last inch of coffee that comes from a French press is full of grit. (Ptooey!)
There are advantages to sleeping in a HOUSE, is my point. read more…
Love keeps getting better
Good morning! Today we’re pulling up camp and leaving Lake Placid. It’s been mostly dark and dreary with a few brief periods of sunshine, but even with the black clouds, I have to admit that the scenery up here is rather fantastic. Yesterday we took a gondola ride to the top of Whiteface Mountain.
(Photo by Otto, king of capturing Jesus Light.) read more…
Lucky, if somewhat sodden
Hey, guess what it’s doing here in the Adirondacks. Go on, GUESS!
It’s raining. Pouring, actually. Has been for hours.
The good news is that the rain held off until late afternoon, today; we arrived yesterday afternoon and had just finished setting up when my dad and step-mom pulled up to settle into the campsite across from ours. Last night’s dinner was a low country boil prepared by Otto, because you can take the boy out of the south but you cannot put him in a camper without Andouille sausage. Or something. We had planned to eat outdoors, but it was already sort of damp and icky, so we discovered that our U-shaped dining area in the camper is juuuuust big enough to seat six people who really like each other. (It helps if two of them are basically only half-sized.)
After dinner we decided to go for a short walk, which turned into an unintentionally longer walk, and as it was getting dark and the children were cranky, I feared thing would end badly, but we found our way back and capped off the night with moon pies. read more…
I’m having fun, dammit
So I wrote that last post and Otto and I joked about how I’m just easily spooked and kind of jumpy in the car, and how really the worst is behind us—we’re headed further north, now, and we’ll take a different route when we come south again (read: NO BOSTON OR CONNECTICUT DRIVERS), and really, it wasn’t so bad, and the camping—OH THE CAMPING—is gonna be awesome.
I told him he was right, I was going to focus on the good stuff coming up and stop obsessing over all the people on the road who are apparently trying to kill us.
And yesterday we retrieved the children after two long weeks without them. Chickadee appears to have grown about a foot, and Monkey’s hair seems to have grown about that much, as well. We met up with some old friends for lunch and then came back to Otto’s brother’s place and the nephews were VERY happy to see their cousins, and there was much running and screaming and glee. read more…