Ordering Dessert Before Dinner!

During March, I am participating in the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by twowritingteachers.wordpress.com. Bloggers from around the world are posting daily, committed to the practice of sharing, reflecting, remembering...writing! Feel free to stop by this incredible March happening and check out other posts or even join in--there's no rule that says you have to start on March 1st!


At a conference last week, I had lunch with someone who shared that his aunt always ordered dessert first when she went out to dinner. She didn't like the pressure of saving room. I loved this idea. It reminded me of the days when my daughters were younger and we would occasionally have an upside-down dinner, starting with dessert. I can't believe I forgot about this!


Last night, I took two of my girls out to dinner. My husband had one of them playing in an outdoor soccer game (that's another post since we live in CT and it was less than twenty degrees at gametime...) and our fourth daughter was away for the weekend with a friend. When the girls looked at the menu, they initially struggled. It was a little fancy for them, although their close reading skills eventually revealed the options of burgers and macaroni and cheese. However, you should have seen their faces when I asked for the dessert menu first.

"Why are you asking for that, now?" Clare asked.

"That's smart," Larkin declared. "We can decide what to get for dessert before we decide on dinner."

"Actually, I think that we should get dessert first," I said.

They both started to giggle.

When the waitress came back, she asked us what we'd decided. She was a little surprised when we ordered the apple crumble and the warm chocolate cake, but I think that she assumed that we were just there for dessert.

"Should we order dinner, now, too?" Larkin asked her.

That got her attention. The girls ordered their burger and pasta, and I ordered my salad.

"But, you want the dessert first?" she asked. I didn't blame her for double checking.

We nodded and she laughed with us.

We had a great time on Saturday night--it's fun to switch up family dynamics, but it was also fun to switch up eating routines. I can't wait to surprise my other two daughters with this new tradition! Who knew that I'd learn about a fun switch-up at a Zaner-Bloser presentation?

Cheers,

Standing at the Admissions Finish Line...Waiting...

Each week the Slice of Life is hosted by the writers and teachers of Twowritingteachers.wordpress.com. Many bloggers write slices each week that you can read by following the links from the comments, or feel free to join in on the slicing!

As I await with my oldest daughter at the finish line of the College Admissions Process for the greatly anticipated results, I find myself second-guessing and wondering about the whole process more and more. While we all want to believe that the buck doesn't stop at a GPA or SAT score (especially when those scores are not in the top 2%), certainly college admissions officers, inundated by bajillions of applications for ten spots, must have some clear cut-off in mind. Maybe the cut-off mark is a little softer for the tuba players when the top player is due to graduate, but there does seem to be a tendency (and a need) to pay attention to scores.

As he frequently does, Thomas Friedman got me wondering even more about all of this in his morning NYTimes OpEd piece, How to Get a Job at Google. While Friedman does validate the experience of college for many people--"For most young people, going to college and doing well is still the best way to master the tools needed for many careers," he writes--, Friedman also quotes Laszlo Bock, the senior vice president of people operations for Google, as suggesting that too many colleges "do not deliver on what they promise. You generate a ton of debt, you don't learn the most useful things for your life. It's an extended adolescence."

Is it? Am I about to fund a $200,000 extended adolescence? My stomach hurts a little at the thought.

I would like to believe that my daughter will be one of those students who will take advantage of the learning opportunities that will be available to her next year wherever she decides to go, that she will be one of those students who gets involved in research projects, goes to the plays and art shows, has dinner with professors, travels with other curious students. I'll certainly be cheering...

In the meantime, I am having all of my daughters read Friedman's column and we will talk about what he calls "soft skills--leadership, humility, collaboration, adaptability and loving to learn and re-learn."

Still Waiting,

Still Wondering and Worrying About Saturday Night...

Each week the Slice of Life is hosted by the writers and teachers of Twowritingteachers.wordpress.com. Many bloggers write slices each week that you can read by following the links from the comments, or feel free to join in on the slicing!

I did something a little reckless on Saturday night.

I've been thinking about it since, wondering if I did the right thing. If there was a better way to have handled it. Scaring myself with the what ifs. Reminding my daughters to do as I say and not as I did...

We were driving home from a play on Saturday night. It was 10:15. My oldest daughter, Larkin, played one of the leads at a local all boys' boarding school. My friend, Mel, (my blogging partner at tworeflective teachers.blogspot.com) was in the front seat and my third daughter, Clare, was in the back seat with two of her friends. They looked especially cute, since they had just been part of the audience at an all-boys  school. As high school freshmen, they know when to seize opportunities...

It had snowed a few inches and the roads weren't great as we headed home. The roads were also narrow because we have had a lot of snow--there's not much more room to put it. Therefore, when I saw a runner up ahead of us on the wrong side of the street for running, I was worried. As we got closer and realized that this runner was in street clothes with a backpack on, we were all worried.

"He was like our age," Clare said. "Why would he be out running in the snow at 10:15 on a Saturday night?"

I picked up my phone, and dialed the police. Yes, I made a call as I was driving--another action that I never do with my daughters in the car. I told the dispatcher that we had just seen a boy running along the main road in dark street clothes with a backpack, and it definitely had not looked right. He asked for details about the location and direction, I gave those to him, and he said that he would send an officer out. He didn't seem too worried and he didn't seem too hurried.

Impulsively, but with all passengers in agreement, I turned the car around. He just seemed too unsafe. We followed the footsteps in the road. The snow made it easy. We were all impressed by how far he had gotten. When we finally came upon him, I pulled over and he stopped. Mel rolled down her window.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

"It's an odd time for a run," I said.

"I have to get back to school," he said. "I live pretty close to here and I have to get back."

"That's where we are actually coming from," I said. "We were at the play."

"I went to it last night," he said.

"You worried us," Mel said.

"I actually called the police when we passed you," I added. "You're pretty hard to see and the roads aren't too good."

"The police?" He gasped a little.

Where were the police??? I was trying to have this conversation take a while so that they would arrive. He might get in trouble, but he wouldn't get killed. I kept looking in my rear-view mirror for other cars, but especially for a car with lights on its top.

"Do you need a ride?" Mel asked.

No, Mel, I wanted to say. I can't give this kid a ride. I have other people's children in the back of my car. We don't pick up strangers. 

But there he was with a cracking voice, a school emblem jacket, a house nearby, and an extremely dangerous situation.

"Would you mind?" he asked. I think (hope) that he debated the situation. Just as I would say never to pick up a stranger, I would think that he would know to never get into a car with one. He hesitated, and we were all trying to figure out how to handle this. His school was only about a mile away, not far for the car, but far for a runner in street clothes with a backpack on slippery, narrow roads.

And, where were the police???

"What's your name?" I asked him.

He told us. (I'm not sharing it here.)

"Please get in the car. We don't want you to get hurt," I said.

I was so proud of the girls in the back seat. They were friendly and kind. They asked him questions and talked about the play. I asked him if he was drunk.

"You're not going to throw up on those girls, are you?" I asked. I had invited a stranger into the car to sit next to them. In a couple of minutes on the side of the road, Mel and I had determined that he wasn't a serial killer, but he could well be a prep school boy who was at home hitting up his father's liquor cabinet.

He assured me he was completely not under any influence.

My concern about him peaked as we drove into the school and the girls asked him where he lived. He lived on our street. I knew his family--not well--but certainly of them. I also knew how far it was! Almost three miles!!

We dropped him off in front of his dorm and watched him enter. I debated going to the door with him, shaking hands with his dorm parents, explaining how we had just gotten to know this young man. Maybe I should have.

Since Saturday night, I have had many episodes of second-guessing and the should-haves and the what-ifs. He talked about the complications in his family and I suspect that there are struggles. My daughters are pretty connected so they had an easy time finding out from people who know him that he is a good kid--funny, but in trouble a lot. I shared the story with a friend who is a friend of his mother's. She will have coffee and tell the boy's mother about Saturday night. And, I've tried to explain my actions to my daughters--rules are rules and sometimes we break them...I kept a kid safe on Saturday night.

I hope that he stays safe.

Slice of Life-The Quest for the Holiday Card

Each week the Slice of Life is hosted by the writers and teachers of Twowritingteachers.wordpress.com. Many bloggers write slices each week that you can read by following the links from the comments, or feel free to join in on the slicing!

I'm sure that there are plenty of people who can relate to the issue of finding the perfect picture for the annual holiday card. I think that the challenge becomes increasingly, perhaps exponentially, harder as the number of family members rises.

This year, my holiday wish from my family was that we head to the nearest Portrait Simple to document our family with some formal shots in time for some of these shots to be made into a card, as well. Last Saturday morning, we all got up and into our jeans and white t-shirts to head to the mall, Sonny the black lab included in the outing. This appointment had been on the calendar for a few weeks, so should I have been surprised when two of the four daughters could not locate their white t-shirts???? Fortunately, both my dresser and the Gap across the hall from Portrait Simple had some extra-smalls. 

I actually thought the session went great--the girls were funny, the dog cooperated, and we had a lot of laughs. However, the process of choosing pictures was not as easy. I loved the pictures of the girls in a pig pile. I knew that they had laughed in this pose and I loved that as the backdrop to my own experience of these pictures. "I look like a turtle," Julia declared. Personally, I didn't see the resemblance, but okay.

Sonny was a little tricky to manage, but we did get a couple of shots with all eyes straight ahead and all smiles good to go. "My eyes are droopy," Larkin said. "We shouldn't have done this in the morning before our faces get rid of the sleep evidence." I did not think of this--maybe next time? (BTW, I thought Larkin's eyes looked beautiful--drooping is not the word that comes to my mind…)

Josh the photographer caught me off guard when he offered the girls shaving cream beards at the end of the photo-shoot. They thought this was hilarious and the pictures of the girls with Santa beards are fun. Sometimes in pictures, Clare forces her smiles and I loved the authentic laughter that these pictures captured. "The shaving cream makes my teeth look yellow," she critiqued. Since we bought the disk, the girls were able to whiten her teeth using photo-shop. (For the record, Clare has beautiful white teeth and I disagreed with her observations.)

Other nominations of images were met with: "It looks like Julia is taller in that picture" (Julia is taller, but this is a truth that Larkin is not ready to admit)… "My hair is messed up"(pig piles are risky that way)…"My face looks fat"…"My smile is fake"… You get the idea.

I left the girls at home with the pictures and went to get my hair cut. My challenge to them was to use the Shutterfly templates and design a card that I could order when I got home. When I came home, they had re-enacted a photo-shoot in the front yard with candy canes and colorful sweaters. Not exactly my vision for the pictures, but they were all happy with some of the shots. They wanted to combine the outdoor shots with the ones of them holding the ho-signs at Portrait Simple. The card could read "From our 'ho's to yours." I finally had to admit that I am not ready to relinquish control of the holiday card. Not everyone is thrilled with the picture selections, but I tried to include the ideas and sentiment that the girls had begun. I wish the same to all of my Slicing Community. 

Merry everything and peace, joy, love and fun throughout the year. 

Slice of Life--Thank you Pamela Hodges

Each week the Slice of Life is hosted by the writers and teachers of Twowritingteachers.wordpress.com. Many bloggers write slices each week that you can read by following the links from the comments, or feel free to join in on the slicing!

This week, I have been grateful to Pamela Hodges , another slicer who gave me the idea to have an angel come to life each night in our house. My youngest daughter, Cecily, is at that cuspy sixth-grade age when children don't believe but still second-guess their non-belief. She has gone along with the mischievous angel. Sort of. The first night the angel toilet-papered Cecily's room--we needed to do something big to let Cecily know that there was some magic going on in the house. My oldest daughter, Larkin, took this on and was quite impressive with the roll of Charmin.

"I know it was you, Mom," Cecily said when she came into my room in the morning.

At least I could say honestly that it wasn't.

Since that night, the angel has had a n umber of adventures. She has switched places with the angel that Cecily has on her mini-Christmas tree in her room. She has dumped out Cecily's sock drawer (which needed sorting through). She has also done some nice things--she folded a large basket of laundry. made some pancake batter that was ready to use in the morning, and found a boot that had been missing for a while. Cecily has started hiding her, which makes her antics a little challenging for me.

She has some plans for the rest of the month that I can't wait to see her act on. One is to take over Cecily's bed and put Cecily into the twin bed that is in her room. I might have to photograph that! I'm open to other suggestions for my little friend that are silly, and not too time-consuming during a busy month--sorry, Pam, but even on a snow day, I don't have time to clean out my pantry right now!

As always, I'm so grateful to my writing community. In this case, Pamela inspired not only writing, but also laughter and silliness in our house!

Cheers!

My Thoughts Are In Boston

We are away on vacation this week so news didn't get to as quickly as it usually does. I had a post in my head ready to write but I will save it for another day because my thoughts are with the victims of yesterday's bombing in Boston. Somehow, writing about the silliness and laughter of yesterday's adventure seems inappropriate, although I will work hard to preserve and continue the joy we are having.

Just as images from the Newtown shooting have haunted me for the last few months, so will the face of Martin Richard, the 8 year-old who was waiting with his family for his father to finish the race. How does a family go on in the wake of such unspeakable, unbelievable, meaningless tragedy? The families of Newtown continue; I have watched and paid attention. Some are spurred on by their charge to make a difference in gun control and mental health services.

What missions will come from the bombings in Boston? I suppose that they will develop as we learn more about the motivation behind the bombings. In the meantime, I am left wondering about our safety in this country. After the 9/11 bombings, I felt an enormous sense of vulnerability and concern for the fact that I could not possibly lie my body across my four daughters to save them from the world's craziness. Today, I feel even more vulnerable.

I'm not sure that I will ever enjoy a crowded place again.

#Slice 2013- April Fools' Day

On Tuesdays, Ruth and Stacey host Slice of Life on their blog at twowritingteachers.wordpress.com. Feel free to write, link, and/or comment!

April Fools' Day is a major holiday in our house. All of us spend time on the internet looking for new pranks that we haven't seen before. Most years, I get sprayed by at least one of the sinks. (This year, I remembered to take the tape off before I got wet!) I have sat in Balmex (bad joke), found salt in toothpaste (okay joke), found my bed short-sheeted (funny joke as long as I've opted for an early bedtime) and have found my sweaters taped together (quite funny joke, actually)--you get the idea.

Yesterday, I had to pick up Julia from soccer practice. Julia doesn't like to wait and even though I try to always keep her schedule straight and to be there on time, I make mistakes. Meetings run over, someone else needs a ride, or I forget that the time changed. So yesterday, when I arrived at the fields five minutes early, I parked at the far side where she couldn't see me and waited for my phone to ring. It rang.

"Mom, are you here?" Julia asked.

"What are you talking about?" I responded. "Doesn't practice end at 7:30?"

"Mooom. I told you 7. 5:30-7..."

"I'm sorry, Julia." I try not to have the giggle come out in my voice. "I'll leave right now."

I hung up and texted her right away. April Fools. I'm here.

Julia was smiling when I pulled up next to her. "You got me, Mom," she said. "I wasn't going to fall for Cecily's carmel onions since that was too far from her norm but you were much more believable."

Hmmm. Should I feel good about that?

We both had a good laugh.