Thank You, Mrs. Driscoll

Life is continually presenting us with reminders that we are humans with a variety of foibles. Having been in the publishing field for over 20 years, I have long recognized the value of having someone else proofread important documents. I know what I intended to write, and my eye will sometimes overlook errors as it replaces what's really on the paper with the correct version in my mind.

My eighth grader is now a believer. Over the weekend he received a Social Studies essay back from the teacher. He'd been proud of the content, and had proofread it several times before handing it in. Well, it appears that he was right to be pleased with the substance; his grade was 95. However, there was one teensy typo that he'd failed to catch. He'd accidentally typed "shit" instead of "hit" -- and no it didn't make more sense in that sentence. LOL. One more reason to rag on my construction worker hubby for the kids' colorful vocabulary.

The poor kid was absolutely mortified when the teacher told him about it. He stayed after class to apologize, and he returned to the room later in the day to bolster the apology. The teacher was a really good sport about it, though. She knew he didn't do it on purpose, and of course kids don't excel in the honors program if they habitually do things like that. I think my son's embarrassment was punishment enough. All the teacher did was circle the word and put two exclamation points next to it.

Too bad I can't have the page bronzed, lest it be rendered illegible. But it definitely ought to be saved, in case my little writer has children of his own someday. Tee hee.

Pigeon Indeed

Yoga's getting harder, although I still feel great afterwards and I think my body's getting stronger. The new intrigue of last night's class was a pose called The Pigeon. Visualize, please:

Kneel and point your toes behind you. Fully rest on your extended feet. Now take one leg and extend it all the way back, pointing the toe, resting it on the mat. Straighten your spine so that the crown of your head faces the ceiling. Now raise your chest, puffing it out as far as it can go. Stretch out your neck too. When you've thoroughly felt the pull everywhere in your body, slowly take the foot that's bent underneath you and bring it toward the middle of the mat so you're sitting on your hip. Continue to have your other leg fully extended, and face your torso forward with your spine straight. Now extend your chest and neck again.

Once you've eased out of that pose and come to a relaxed position for a minute, don't become too complacent. You've still got to repeat all of that, but switching legs. Who's the pigeon?

Stop the World, I Want to Get Off!

Today I took the kids to the Columbus Day fair in town. All three got ride bracelets because we had a few hours of free time. The older two went off on their own for a while and I hung out with our littlest. He went on the big slide, the bumper cars, and the bouncer. He then wanted to go on something called the Sizzler. Lots of spinning and up and down. I likened it to the Paratrooper, my old nemesis at Adventureland when I was growing up. 30 years ago I learned that any amusement park ride that spun around fast would make me hurl. So I told my son that he could go on by himself.

The attendant said he was tall enough, but needed a companion because the ride's force throws the occupants to the outer part of the car and there must be two or three people in it. Sigh. Maybe I'd be OK. He wanted to go, so I took the plunge. Eyes shut tight the entire time. Holding on to the kid, willing the ride to be over with every movement. I'm sure it was no longer than two or three minutes, but I needed to steady myself when I emerged. We had to move slowly over to one of the tables in the food area (luckily only 20 paces). I didn't hurl but was mighty dizzy and nauseous. Oh for the love of a child. Three and a half hours later, I'm just beginning to feel as though my stomach has settled.

When we reunited with the other two amigos, the oldest and youngest went on that ride together while middle child was on the bumper cars. I couldn't watch too much of the spinning, but I did notice that they both had their eyes open and were screaming with delight. Yoicks. I'm glad they didn't get the "can't spin" gene from Mom.

Here's a shot of bumper cars in action and Sizzler ready to begin.

Boo!

Today we took the big cutouts of flowers out of the front windows. Summer has gone. Halloween decorations replaced the flowers. There's a big banner of a witch who says "Stay for a spell!" and another banner with a skeleton on it. The third window has a collection of artwork the kids made...a big ghost, a black cat, a spider, a pumpkin, a monster, and a sign that says BOO. We brought out the candy dish that has a battery operated hand in the middle (think "Thing" from the Addams Family show) and a battery operated ghoul who has rags covering his head and arms (think leprosy).

We also went to get the two older kids Halloween costumes. Son #3 is going to be a snake again. Son #2 picked out a black hooded cape with a pair of battery operated glasses that flash red behind a black mesh mask. Spooky. Son #1 picked out a ghoul with a skeleton chest and a pump that spews fake blood. (Eww.)

Son #1 was being camera shy but here are the other two trying on their costumes.

The End of Mini Van Era

Yes, after six years with the red Chevy Venture mini van, and more than 160,000 miles, it's being put out to pasture. On Monday, it's being picked up to go into the car donation program for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. I couldn't find a local charity that has a direct pick up or drop off program, but this middle man organization is fairly good; the JDRF receives 70% of the proceeds from the sale of the vehicles.

So many memories...Son #3 was merely a toddler when we bought the van, so the built in child seat with five point harness was a huge convenience. It was nice when the kids were younger to be able to separate them in the van (cuts down on kicking, slapping, poking, and most torture tactics). With seven seats, we could spread them out. Actually, we have to put the eighth seat back in before we give the van away...we removed it at the beginning and have never used it. It was convenient to have all those seats the few times a year we went on trips to NJ to visit my aunt and uncle, with Mom in tow...but only a few times a year.

A week and a half after picking up the new car (Honda CR-V) I notice a huge difference. The new vehicle drives like a car and not a school bus! I was never comfortable driving the van -- way too large for my liking in terms of maneuverability -- but of course I learned to do it. I love the power assist steering (as opposed to full power steering) and it's great to be able to zip in and out of parking spaces and driving lanes with comparative ease. I also have no love of the color red, so the royal blue CR-V is really thrilling me. I haven't liked the color of my car this much since I had the purple Grand Am all those years ago.

Without doing all that much besides working, I've already put 800 miles on the CR-V since a week ago Monday. Time flies when I'm having fun!

Nodding Off

Last night in yoga class, there were a few positions that were very challenging for me. For instance, I still don't have a good feeling for upward facing dog. My body doesn't seem to want to bend backward while I'm facing upward. Here's another good one:

Sit on the floor with your legs under you (like a lot of kids do at the dinner table and have to be then scolded to sit on their tush with their legs in front of them). Then widen your knees to around the same distance as if you were sitting cross legged (or, as the kids say nowadays, pretzel legs to be politically correct as opposed to "Indian style" when I was a kid). As you spread your knees, keep each foot under its leg and keep the toe pointed. Now, put your tush down and sit on the floor, with your knees and legs to the side...did I mention that your spine is still supposed to be perpendicular to the floor?

If this is the first time you're attempting this (as it was for me last night) it's going to hurt like a mother. My feet were cramping and I couldn't quite get the butt to the floor at first, so I used a rolled up blanket for a crutch. Eventually the muscles stopped screaming. Rolling forward and extending the arms to the floor is called the Frog (you can understand why if you picture a frog jumping forward). If it sounds like a killer, compare it to what you were doing previously and you'll realize that it really is a relaxation.

At the end of each session, Helen allows us to "fall out" and relax on our backs and speaks to us in her usual dulcet tones. Now, mind you, this is the same tone of voice she uses throughout the entire class, which is not always congruent with her words, e.g. "if you don't feel a groin pull, you're not extending enough" and "if your right knee feels like it's going to explode, you've gone a bit too far." But we do get our just reward. Last night we were allowed to let our arms flop out on the mat with hands spread out, and feet were allowed to flop to the side, and the monologue reminded us to concentrate on our rhythmic breathing, slowly filling our lungs and torsos with air, pushing out from our abdomens to exhale.

Well, it finally happened, during the third session: I actually dozed off during this cool down period. At some point I realized, groggily, that the others were on their feet and stretching. Helen said this was a good thing because I'd successfully released all my tension. Yeah baby. Work hard, play hard.

Chamber Chorus

Leave it to my eighth grader, who seems to take any addition to his already jam packed schedule with grace and enthusiasm.

Let's recall that he attends chorus rehearsal every other day during lunch, because there's no other time slot for it, and they don't "do" chorus before or after school. So they show up at the music room, sing for 20 minutes, and then go to the lunch room and eat for 20 minutes.

This year they're making a select group called the chamber chorus. Wonder Boy tried out and made the cut. What does this mean? The chamber group will spend the entire period in the music room every other day...20 minutes rehearsing for each group. When do they eat? They have special permission to somehow chow down while they're singing during the first 20 minutes.

I'm wondering whether a video of this process will make it onto YouTube, and I hope that the teacher knows the Heimlich maneuver. One of those poor kids is going to be choking on food, or choking on syllables. Still, my son describes this new system with a smile on his face. First day is tomorrow.