Body parts are included....

A few things that have occurred in the last three days:

• Sharon lost her keys the second night she was here. The last thing she remembered was taking a walk with the kids. Tom took a flashlight and walked the route they had taken. No luck. Sharon went through her entire car. No luck. I went through Sharon's entire car (cleaning as I went). No luck. We all went through the bedroom. No luck. Sharon went through all three of her suitcases. No luck. Sharon and I were pretty nonchalant about the whole thing. We knew the keys were somewhere and that eventually, they would turn up. Tom was beside himself with annoyance at the missing keys and our attitude. We probably wasted two hours looking for the keys. The next day Sharon found them in the yard by the swing in our big oak tree. See, no problem!

• Sharon and I went to lunch with the boys. We chose a deli across the street from the hospital where my mother was staying so that after lunch we could jot on over to visit her. Just as we finished eating and were sitting talking, her four-month-old son pooped right through his diaper. Poop went on the floor, but most of it came out on Sharon's lap, including her leg and her shorts. She calmly wiped up what she could with her nursing towel and took Henry outside to the car and cleaned him up. Then, right there in the parking lot of the restaurant, Sharon removed her soiled pants and drove home in her underwear. I laughed the whole way and captured the moment on film, but this is a family-friendly website.

• Today I settled down at my spot on the beach. I noticed that in front of me to the right was a huge bunch of women probably from a mother's group. They were all skinny, wore bikinis, had long hair they pulled back in ponytails and all had well-manicured nails. They had neatly prepared their children's lunches and they themselves stood around chatting and sipping vitamin water. Directly in front of me to the left was the opposite group. These five women were grossly overweight, wore T'shirts over their suits, and talked loudly to each other. They were sitting around drinking sodas, and enjoying chips and guacamole dip. I decided that was the group I would join.

Overheard at the beach:

• "I heard he went to Jarrod's."
• "And apparently it is a yeast thing in the vagina that causes problems."
• "Anyone want some pistachios? Hello? Anyone? Pistachios?"

Things I've decided in the last few days:

• Skinny dog owners do not get that way from walking their dogs. I walked Piper today and spent way more time stopping to let her sniff things then I did walking. That is no longer in the pro column for getting a dog.
• I am past the days of taking care of babies. It was nice to have a baby to kiss and hold, but it was even nicer to hand him back to his mother.
• I am definitely past the days of taking care of toddlers. Although they are better exercise than going to the gym or walking a dog.
• I dislike cleaning up poop whether from a baby, a toddler or a dog.
• Men need their cars to feel whole. They have no sense of humor when their car is in the shop.
• Beer tastes really good lately. Especially chilled.
• A house with a dog stinks of dog.
• Hospitals don't seem all that sterile.
• It isn't vacation if you are up before 8:00 AM every day!

The root of my problem

I love reading the major headlines on Yahoo's homepage whenever I click on to the Internet. It is sometimes entertaining, and usually informative, like the headline on Saturday night. Turns out my failure to lose weight is because I'm stressed and stress hampers weight loss!

I read that when women are stressed they tend to eat more thus the weight gain or lack of weight loss. Luckily the story offered up some ways to help reduce stress, and in case you missed it, I'll go over some of the ones I thought might work for me.....or not.

• Listen to steady upbeat music because this will allow the brain waves to keep time and relax you. It recommends you add a playlist titled "Happy Tunes" to listen to on your iPod. That will go right along with my "Eating Music".


• Phone a friend and pour out your troubles and brainstorm over ways to solve those troubles. In turn, listen to a friend's troubles because this will make you feel needed and help reduce stress. So far this week my friends and I found that brainstorming just opened up another whole can of troubles, and listening to others (two with relatives with cancer and one who's dog died) has depressed me and given me migraines.


• Work out for 30 minutes and release those chemicals that dull the physiological effects of stress. Sounded great until I read that the exercise has to be something you really want to do. Uh, exercise and want in the same sentence in my brain? Not happening.


• Have dinner by candlelight because the dim setting releases melatonin, the good-for-you sleep hormone. Cooking wears me out and putting that with the dim lighting... I'd just fall asleep with my head in my plate.


• Get out in the sun. Okay, this is one that might work for me since I've discovered that with my new eyesight reading is way easier outside than it is inside.


• Look forward to something awesome every day. I look forward to bed. Is that the same thing?


• Tape up pictures of amazing days that you've had in the past because looking at those pictures for just ten minutes can stabilize your heartbeat and lower muscle tension. I guess those pictures of Toby Keith on my office wall isn't the same thing because it causes a little different reaction in me...

I'm going to start on these right after vacation. I'll let you know how things go.

Chaos

The start of Spring Break has brought me:

• My mother in the hospital. Apparently, she picked up some E coli in her urine and the only antibiotic that will touch it must be given through a central line. She will be in there for a few days until the hospital has sucked Medicare dry and then she will go home with the central line and a home health nurse will come twice a day to administer the medication.



• A dog. This is Piper and she belongs to a co-worker of my husband. The co-worker and family are going on a family vacation (hmmm....I think I've heard of those....) and my husband volunteered our services.


• A four-month-old baby and a two-year-old. I invited my friend to visit with her two boys. That was way before I found out about the dog and the mother.

Seriously, we are trucking right along here at the house. My mother is pretty much on her own at the hospital. We call and visit in between dental appointments and swimming. We do keep her entertained with the household goings-on.

The dog is a dream so far. We have yet to hear her bark. I forget she is even at our house. If we leave the door open, she just stands and looks outside. She loves kids, turtles, babies and other dogs. What more could we ask for?

My friend fits right in with all the shenanigans at the house, and kissing her baby is worth all the weariness I have from following around a two-year-old boy.

So far Spring Break is off to a roaring start.....and we are only two days into it!

Heading down memory lane....

Yesterday's blog got me thinking about my Grandfather, Earl. He wasn't much of a talker. When I was little I remember him up and outside the farm letting us feed the hogs. Mostly though I remember him as he was in the last years of his life; sitting in a recliner.

He was a quiet man. I can remember coming into his farmhouse and sitting in the second recliner next to his talking to him for a few minutes. He would ask me questions about how I was and what was going on at school. Nothing earth-shaking, but comforting all the same.

There are two really good memories that I have of him. The first was at my Aunt Lorene's house (left in the picture next to her brothers, my Uncle Cockeye and my father, Russ) for one of her big holiday dinners.

All the women were in the kitchen cooking and talking. The men were in the living room watching football, the kids were either inside or outside playing games. My Aunt Lorene called everyone to the table and those in the living room started getting up to head into the kitchen. I was the last person in that line and as I stood waiting to get into the crowded kitchen I heard this little voice calling, "Cara. Hey, Cara."

I looked around the room but didn't see anything.

"Cara. Here...down here."

I was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, and I turned to my right and looked down. The recliner had fallen backwards with my grandfather in it. He was reclined with his head and upper body on the floor and his legs straight up in the air. I was horrified. My first real concern for an elderly person.

Not so for my grandfather. He chuckled and said, "Do you think you could help an old man up out of this predicament?"

Turns out everyone just walked right past him on their way to the grub. I frantically yelled for my father who came and laughingly helped my grandfather up and into the kitchen.

The second great memory I have of my Grandpa is my favorite.

I was probably ten, my brother seven. We were visiting him at his farm. It was morning and we were at the kitchen table eating breakfast while my father stood at the stove cooking. Both my brother and I had glasses of fresh goat's milk in glasses before our plates.

I barely tolerated regular pasteurized cow's milk so warm milk straight from the udder of a farm goat was enough to cross my eyes permanently. Yuck.

I finished everything but the milk. My brother and I asked to be excused, but when my father turned around and saw that I hadn't touched my milk he shook his head. "Drink your milk!" he said in his big booming voice.

I whined.

Dad yelled, "Drink your milk."

I whined some more.

Dad responded with, "You are not going anywhere until you drink that damn milk!"

He turned back to the stove, and I sadly stared at the yucky goat's milk. Suddenly, without one word spoken, my grandfather reached over, picked up my milk, drank it all, and put it back where it had been. He then returned to his breakfast as if nothing had happened.

I sat there stunned, not knowing what to do. What the what had just happened? I was a straight-laced kid who rarely did the wrong thing and this totally threw me off kilter.

Then my father turned around, saw that the milk was gone smiled happily and excused me from the table.

Still, I sat there unsure what to do. I looked over at my grandfather as if to see what that was and he gave me a slow wink. Our little secret that wink said.

We never discussed it, and I never told anyone the story until years later after he had died.

From the keepsake box - My Grandfather, Earl Mason

Another thing from my Keepsake Box. Written on this in my mother's handwriting it says, "Cara---this is yours". 

I know it was typed on my old typewriter. Funny I don't remember doing this or when it was written, but it was obviously a school assignment. I don't remember the things in it about my grandfather. Guess that is why it is good to write things down. Not very well written and the punctuation is horrible, but I found it interesting enough to post.

Earl Mason, born 1894, first worked at Mine #17 west of Dugger, IN. He left there to work at old Oak Grove, located east of Cass. Mine #17 put in joy loaders, which had replaced the pick and shovel. When they conveyed coal into small cars, Earl went back to #17 to work. Oak Grove moved to just north of Dugger and was called New Oak Grove. Some members of his family started this mine so he went to work there. One morning they were drilling on the face of solid coal, and red water started to run through. They had mined into old Kielly, this resulted in the closing of this mine.

Before machinery most of the mining was hand work--holes were drilled into seams of coal, a powder was put into cartridges with a long fuse and forced into openings with a tamping bar with a brass head and steel would hit a sulfur ball and the spark would cause an explosion. Often the fuse was lit with carbide lights, which were worn on the miners' heads. Often the lights ignited with gas which was then put out with a handful of slack.

Mr. Mason remembers trains with miners coming from Linton. Many area men walked to work in freezing rain, their clothing frozen when they arrived. There were different shifts and with so many mines the men walking across the countryside at night with their carbide lamps on their heads looked like fireflies.

Some of the mines had blockhouses built near the mine for families to live in. The mines at this time had no bathing facilities and the miners' clothing and faces would be black. They bathed at home in wash tubs and their clothes were scrubbed on washboards by hand. Many of these families would have friends or relatives from other countries living with them, often ten or twelve people in a small dwelling. They would save money to send for their families back home. Here, many nationalities were working together.

In the early thirties, a wagon mine was sunk on Mr. Mason's farm. There were mines worked underground with most of the coal sold to individuals for home heating and usually customers would come to the mine with a wagon or small truck, saving delivery costs. Also the initial cost of the coal was much less. There were many of these across the area.

Mr. Mason worked at Littly Betty Strip mine for several years. He had a daughter, Lorene, and two sons, Lloyd and Russell. Another son, James (Juke) died December 18, 1978.

Field Trip Mom

I had a car full of elementary children. They are Montessori kids so I engaged them on directions like the good field trip mother that I am.

Me: "Alright, listen up kids. We are heading out. I need someone to be in charge of the map."

5th grade boy: "I'll do it."

Me: "Where does it say I should turn when leaving the school?"

Him: "It says for you to go right and then to turn right again."

Me: "Really? That can't be right. No pun intended. Let me see that map. Yeah, that isn't right. Why is it taking me that way? We are literally right by the road that will lead us to the road we need to be on to get to our destination. Okay, yeah, we aren't going this way. Okay, kids, we are going to take the scenic route."

Him: "You're not going to follow the map?"

Me: "Nah. It's more fun to take the scenic route. Sit back, buckle up, look out the window, and enjoy."

Off I went. I had to study the map app as I drove, still perplexed that it had wanted to take me in a different direction than the one I was sure was correct. As I got closer to where I thought the road that I wanted was to meet up with the road on the map I begin to second guess myself.

I spent several minutes stressing as I continued driving. Eventually, I conceded that the app may have been correct after all. I decided to do a U-turn and backtrack a bit to match the map.

Him: "What are you doing now?"

Me: "I'm thinking that I need to head back this way for a bit."

Him: "So much for the scenic route."

Good thing it wasn't raining....

On Friday I bought this great umbrella that attaches to a beach chair. Madison used it at the beach but when she got up from the chair to go into the water a big gust of wind blew the umbrella inside out, breaking one of the prongs inside.

Saturday Madison needed shading from the sun at Darcy's soccer game. She found the umbrella still in the car and insisted it was what she needed despite the broken prong.

     













She opened the umbrella and put it over her head. It was a tad lopsided from the broken prong. She said it would do.

Then a gust of wind blew across the soccer field and forced the umbrella inside out.....again! Madison flipped it back and said all was well.

















Unfortunately, the wind gusts continued one right after the other. The umbrella would turn out. Madison would reverse it. The umbrella would turn out. Prongs continued to pop off the umbrella.

















It was more entertaining than the soccer game. Eventually, all of the prongs broke and that was the end of the umbrella. It shaded no one.

What only a mother can do

Saturday morning Tom's car would not start (see Saturday's blog).

After Darcy's first soccer match Tom returned home to take care of the situation. I had been out with my friend, Kelly and my mother-in-law, MaryAnne looking at rental properties. Because our neighbor next door was having a garage sale and cars were lined up and down our street, Kelly and MaryAnne had parked their cars in our driveway. Tom had to park the van in the street and could not use it to jump his car. Since MaryAnne's car was the closest he opted to use her vehicle. Kelly, MaryAnne, and I stayed outside to offer our expert opinions and help.

Problem #1

The jumper cables did not extend between the two cars.

Our offered solution: We had already told him that MaryAnne's car was too far away for those cables to connect. We offered up that the car would need to be moved.

Tom's Response: "I can't move my car."

Our offered solution: We would move MaryAnne's car closer to Tom's car.

End Result: Tom smiled what looked like an insincere smile and put out his hands for the keys. He then got into his mother's car.


Problem #2: He began backing the car out of the driveway, stopped and sat there for quite a large amount of time. Kelly walked over to see what the problem was and Tom told her that he couldn't figure out how to adjust the seat.

Kelly's offered solution: "Do you really need to adjust the seat? You're only going to be in the car for a second."

Tom's response: "I want to be comfortable on my drive."

End Result: Tom backed the car out of the driveway (which took a while due to garage sale seekers driving in a steady stream down our road), manuevered it around the van until it was on the grass on the other side of his car.

Once that was accomplished he began to hook the jumper cable to the battery on his car. I handed Kelly a pad of paper and she went to take notes.

Kelly: "I'll take notes."

Tom: "That is not helpful."

Kelly: "Well, it will be helpful the next time my bettery is dead. I will know how to do it, and I won't have to call you to help, which will, in the long run, be helpful to you. See?"

Tom: No response.

He hooked up the cables and started his mother's car. He then went to start his car and it powered right up. We all cheered and clapped and watched as he cleaned up the cables and drove his mother's car back off the lawn, out into the road and back up into the driveway. We asked him how he felt.


End Result:

Tom: "Without my Mother, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this!"

I'm not sure anymore what my role is.....

This morning I came into the kitchen to find this scene at my kitchen table. This is the sewing machine that my daughter received for Christmas in 2007.

Me: "Oh, my gosh, your father is teaching you how to sew? I feel like a horrible mother. What kind of a mother am I?"

Then I left to go get my camera so that I could record this for my blog.

When I returned Tom was gone and Madison was sitting by herself at the table with the sewing machine.

Me: "What? Where is your father? I wanted to take a picture."

Madison: "Oh, he's outside doing the laundry."

Saturday Morning Conversations

All dialogue in parenthesizes is in my head or is for the reader's information)

Conversation #1
I'm in the bathroom trying to do my morning constitutional. Voices are heard:

Darcy: "I'm ready, Dad"

Tom: "I need to brush my teeth."

Darcy: "Okay?"

Tom: "What car are you going to take?"

Silence

Tom: "Cara?"

Me: "Yes? I'm in the bathroom"

Tom: "What car are you going to take?"

Me: "My van. I need to go to the library which is why I'm up early. I need to get there by nine."

Tom: "Well, I need the van because I'm taking the canopy (to a soccer tourney)."

Me: "Okay, then you take the van."

Tom: "Well, what car are you going to take?"

Me: "What do you mean?" (Uh, we have two cars. What car do you think I'm taking if you're taking the van??)

Tom: "I mean what car are you taking today? Kelly's? My mom's?"

Me: "I don't know. That trip is later this morning. Right now I need to get to the library so I guess I'm taking your car if you have my van."

Tom: "Well, I need to move some things then. That's why I needed to know."

Me: "Okay."

Tom: "I need to brush my teeth though."

Conversation #2
I am out of the bathroom and getting dressed. Enter Darcy.

Darcy: "Can I have my library card?"

Me: "What? Why?"

Darcy: "Because Daddy and I are going to the library."

Me: "What? When? I'm going to the library. I just told your father that. That is why I'm up on a Saturday at this ungodly hour."

Darcy: "Well Daddy and I are going to the library too."

Me: "That doesn't make any sense. I just had a conversation with the man about how I was going to the library. Why didn't he tell me he was going?"

Darcy: "I don't know. I told him I needed to go to the library and he said we were early enough and going right past it on the way to soccer so we could stop."

Me: "Oh, my god, this is why I'm insane. I just talked to the man. He stood outside that door while I was trying to poop and never once mentioned the library. Not even when I said I was up because I was going to the library. AAAAAHHHHHH!"

Darcy: "Does this mean you can't give me my library card?"

Conversation #3
I am dressed and have gathered all the library books and given them to Darcy, along with her library card. I am in the kitchen. Enter the annoying husband.

Tom: "I don't need the van after all. Everything fits in my car."

Me: "You don't want me driving your car?"

Tom: "What? No. Just everything fits in my car so you can have the van. I didn't want to have to move stuff out of my car."

Me: "What stuff? No, never mind. Okay, great, I have the van."

Tom: "Are you going to go up to my Mom's and get the pool furniture?"

Me: "I hadn't planned on that."

Tom: "Well, I did. I'll go up there after the soccer game."

Me: "I thought you were going swimming with Darcy."

Tom: "I am. I'm going to swim up there and get the pool furniture."

Me: "Well, how are you going to do that now since you're not taking the van?"

Tom: "That's why I asked you if you were going."

Conversation #4
Tom and Darcy are loading the car. I gather the paper and head out by the pool to read it. The weather is cool, breezy and sunny. A beautiful Florida morning, the kind I miss on the weekends because I'm usually sleeping. Peaceful silence. The back door opens.......

Tom: "I'm taking the van."

Me: (Is this man nuts, or what?) I stare at him because words will not come.

Tom: "I'm taking the van because my car won't start."

Me: (laughing....couldn't help it) "Would you like Kelly and me to take care of that problem while you're gone?" See previous car blogs

Tom: (stares at me)

Conversation #5
I am in the kitchen making coffee to enjoy outside. Tom and Darcy are gone. The library books are on the kitchen table. I ignore them. I'm watching people walking to my neighbor's garage sale when up drives my van. I pick up the books and head outside.

Me: "Forget something?"

Darcy: "Those books. Hee hee."

Me: "This is like a comedy. I just wanted to get to the library by nine. It's 9:20."

Tom: "I know. I keep trying to get out of here, but you keep talking......"

Mother/Daughter Day

Most of the middle schoolers are in Europe this week so school has pretty much been a snooze for Madison. Apparently, they can't teach when the majority of the class is missing. So I took Madison out of school today and we had a mother/daughter day.

First, we had to put our breakfast on hold to drive to Tom's work. He had locked his keys in his vehicle and we came to the rescue. He gave us a nice tour of his building as we had not really been able to do that since he took a new position almost a year ago.

Next, we had a nice breakfast at this little restaurant up the street from our house. Madison is not keen on trying new things, she feels more comfortable in the old, but I told her that today was about trying something different. She asked that we not try seafood.

After a tasty breakfast, we checked out an apartment building that we are going to check into tomorrow for our friend, Kelly. (Okay, we really did this before we went to open Tom's car, but we want him to think we hurried.) I chatted with a nice, old man who lived across the street from the duplex. He assured me the neighborhood was a good one and that the apartment would be to my liking.

From there, we headed to Walgreen's where I purchased a beach chair and an umbrella. Then it was off to the grocery where we stocked up on essentials: sandwiches, strawberries, grapes, Cheetos, cheddar cheese chips, and Fuse drinks. We headed home and gathered our beach belongings, quarters for the meter, and packed all the essentials in a large rolling cooler.

We got the beach at around 12:30 PM. People who'd been there since daybreak were leaving so we were able to score a parking spot, under a tree no less. We fed the meter and hauled our equipment and bodies down to the beach. This was a bit of a chore as the rolling cooler doesn't roll in the sand and we had more stuff than two people needed.

Finding a spot, we laid out our belongings. We did the crossword puzzle and ate some Cheetos. At 1:30 PM our friend Kelly joined us and we continued eating the essentials. Madison did some riding of the waves, which is usually not possible in the Gulf, but since it was a tad windy there were a few small waves. I joined her at one point because I had to pee. The water was not bad and was warmer than our pool.

Unfortunately, as the day grew longer the wind picked up and returning from swimming meant that my skinny girl had to bundle up to keep from shivering. She whined and chattered her teeth so much that Kelly went to the van and retrieved a blanket for Madison, as well as one for herself.

Being made of stronger stuff, I wrapped myself only in a towel. Comfy and cozy we slept for about a half an hour, awoke, gathered up our belongings and headed off to pick up Darcy from school.

A delightful day. Who knew playing hookey could be so pleasant?

Thank god I do this only once a year....

Bathing suit shopping is a horrible thing for a woman. It ranks right up there with bra shopping. First of all, the companies that make these two items know that we need them and knowing that they can charge anything they want for suits and bras. And they do charge. Quite a lot.

Secondly, this time of shopping is degrading. Standing in a cubicle the size of an apartment bathroom trying to squeeze excess skin into a thin piece of material either on top or on bottom and top is very trying. Throw in a sales lady who thinks nothing of sliding her hand inside the bra to lift or fill in the cup and you almost wish you were at the dentist or the gynecologist.

Tuesday I went bathing suit shopping for three reasons: I live in Florida, I own a pool, and I have children. Put those together and you have sunny, sweltering summer days spent poolside lifeguarding until the sun goes down. Wearing a bathing suit is a must to prevent heat stroke. Unfortunately, 8 hour days spent wearing a suit 7 days a week takes its toll on the cheap Lycra and nylon, especially in the bum area. If you don't want the moon to come out during the day, you buy a new suit each spring.

In the good old days before children, I purchased or was given a Speedo. I lived in Speedo suits because I was either swimming on a team, coaching a team, or lifeguarding. Speedo suits were easy. I wore the same size each year, and all I had to choose was the design, which was usually what color stripe or stripes did I like. I continued wearing them during my early stages of pregnancy by doubling up on them, stretching them to the limit. But after two births I had to let Speedo go because I no longer wore that same size.

Instead, I had to move into the one-piece suits with bra shelves, ties behind the neck, and huge colorful flowers. As I got older I noticed more women my age wearing suits with attached skirts to hide the fleshy legs and the "not quite attention to hair removal" areas. It is the one thing I refuse to succumb to and instead I would wear a one piece with a swag that tied in the front and protected those areas. Then came the two-piece with a halter top and bottoms. Last year those bottoms were replaced with shorts. That is what I set out to purchase this year.

I took a friend with me. We shopped together last year too, but we were both thinner. She doesn't own a pool so she didn't need a suit, but she came for moral support. The store we went to was having a sale. It was also senior day and the place was packed with tourists hoping for a good buy and regulars hoping for a good buy. The wall was lined with suit tops three rows deep, the third row being the only one we could reach. We eyed them and took what we thought looked good. My friend found the stick with the hook on the end to reach the first and second rows, and she spent a good portion of her time unhooking tops for all the customers while I waited my turn for the dressing room.

I tried the "instantly slims in 20 seconds" suit on first. I wiggled and wormed my body into the thick piece of material and held my breath. Twenty seconds passed, as did 30, then 40 and finally I couldn't hold the breath any longer. Result: false advertising.

The second and third suit I tried on had built-in bra cups that would protect me from any sharp objects. Result: not right for a woman with breasts that once held gallons of milk and were larger than the built-in cups.

The next four or five suits were too short and showed my "I've had 5 kids" belly. By this time I was sweating, was breathing heavily, and was tired of saying, "Yes?" in a pleasant voice when umpteen women knocked on the dressing room door. There was a sea of bathing suit tops on the floor, more hanging from hooks on the walls and a multitude of hangers were covering the piddly bench in the dressing room.

Then I found it. It was actually the first top given to me by my friend. Not only was it a color that went well with my skin tone, but it also was blousey and not skin tight, and it was $25.00 cheaper than anything else I had tried on. I almost sobbed with joy. I bought it, brought it home and tried it out today. It worked so well I think I'll go back and snag four more. Won't that just show those bathing suit companies?

Pondering.....

• That the people who barrel through four-way stops were the ones who didn't take turns as children.
• How interesting it is that the same people always stop when a police car is at one of those four corners.
• That every two weeks or so someone you know should follow you in a car to make sure your taillights are all working.
• That it is okay to skip work to lounge poolside or head to the beach.
• That the children who were not able to make the international trip should still be getting an education at school.
• How interesting it is that I'm getting in touch with family and friends I haven't spoken to in years via Facebook.
• I really should start planning my summer vacation.
• That someone needs to make sunscreen smell better.
• That I should use my coupons that I clip each week.
• I'm not 40 something. I'm $39.95 plus shipping and handling.

And she moves on....

Each year our school participates in a county-wide speech contest sponsored by Tropicana and 4-H. The contest is from 4th-6th graders and a winner is chosen from each grade. At our school, it is mandatory for the kids to compete for their speech grade.

The first round puts through about half of the participants who move on to the second round at school. This round produces 1st - 3rd place winners with the first place winner moving on to the semi-finals with other county winners. Winners from that round move to the finals.

Madison has come in second place the last two years behind her buddy, Camille. Each year we have trooped to the finals to watch Camille's speech. The winner receives tuition paid for the 4-H camp held somewhere in the state. Several schools participate from the public, private and home-schooled sector. This year Madison came in 1st place and gets to move on. Here is her speech:

Sounds

Ding, errrrr, WOO-WOO, hello, chirp chirp. Just listen to all those wonderful sounds! There are many different types of sounds in the world, and of course many different uses for them as well, but have you ever noticed how they affect our emotions, how they trigger a handful of responses, or just how many uses there really are? Most likely not, but all that could change with a few seconds of sound.

Happy, sad, embarrassed, excited, and angry are some of the different emotions sounds can cause. Some happy sounds could be the chirp of birds, the music of the ice cream truck, or laughter. Unfortunately, some meanings of sound can change; one minute ago you and your friend were laughing about a joke you just learned, the next every one might be laughing at you because you tripped on some garbage while not paying attention. That would make it an embarrassing sound. Sounds that make us sad might be the sobs of people crying, or the crack when you break a bone. Considering this sounds have plenty of effect on our emotions, which can lead to different reactions.

Responses and reactions can be helpful and harmful in plenty of ways. Let’s say you hear the fire alarm. What would you do? You would probably jump up and know to exit the building. That sound is very helpful in the reaction it causes. They could be harmful if you hear yelling and start to become angry because then you might hurt or destroy something. Reactions are mainly triggered by the emotions you feel when you hear a sound, but like the fire alarm, they can also be done through a taught response.

Sounds, however, aren’t just used to make people happy or sad or to provide different responses. They have a variety of different uses, and without sounds, we wouldn’t be what we are today. Sounds are used to communicate, make music, signals, and to express yourself. Without them I couldn’t be giving this speech, it would almost be impossible to know if the telephone was ringing, but more importantly, it would make the world seem pretty boring.

All in all, sounds are extremely useful, especially in how they affect our emotions, how they trigger responses from us, and all there other different uses. Sounds are one of the great things that make up our world. For me though the best sound, I could hear now would be the sound of claps and cheers as I finish this speech.

© 2008-2009 MB

Spicy Taco Soup Recipe

I don't normally hand out recipes because I'm not a cook. Well, not usually. There are about a handful of dishes that I can cook, which is why I like to use my crockpot. Crockpotting is not cooking. It is throwing a bunch of non-cooked items into a big pot and keeping your fingers crossed that it comes out cooked and tasting good.

Last week I went to a little cafe near where I dropped my mother off at her doctor's appointment. I had not had lunch and hadn't really eaten much of a breakfast, and I knew if I was going to continue to function then I needed something to fill my belly. The cafe is mostly a deli with sandwiches of all types of different varieties. They have a soup of the day and that day the soup was "Spicy Taco Soup". The lady explained that it was a weight watchers recipe and quite delicious. I had some and agreed it was scrumptious.

Later that night I looked the recipe up online. I copied it and the suggestions made by others on how to improve it. Last night I made a big pot of it and served it to my family and in-laws. No one died and everyone loved it. So I thought I would share.

Spicy Taco Soup

1. Brown a pound of ground turkey in a skillet and dump it into a crockpot. (May use beef or chicken as well. I used turkey and found it quite tasty, not to mention healthy.)
2. Add a can of Rotel diced tomatoes including the liquid. (This comes in many varieties and degrees of hotness. Because my daughter doesn't like spicy I used mild.)
3. Add a can of diced tomatoes including the liquid. (I put them in my hand and squeezed, creating a juice. I don't care for large chunks of tomatoes so this took care of the problem and it made more of a soup texture.)
4. Add a can of black beans, a can of pinto beans, and a can of chili beans.
5. Add a can of green beans and a can of corn.
6. Add a packet of taco seasoning (I used a pack and a half)Add a packet of Hidden Valley dressing.
7. Stir, cover and cook on high or low depending on how fast you need it.

Serve in a bowl with any or all of the following, depending on your tastes: sour cream, shredded cheese, taco sauce, crushed taco shells or Tostada chips, cilantro, black olives, chopped lettuce. I put all of these into individual bowls and let each person top his soup the way he preferred.
A delightful meal, but be aware that the beans can cause a little gas the next day. Enjoy!

From the email box.....

Little funnies from the mouths of children:

• "Our father, who does art in heaven, Harold is his name. Amen."


• "Lord, if you can't make me a better boy, don't worry about it. I'm having a real good time like I am."


• "And forgive us our trash baskets as we forgive those who put trash in our baskets."


• After the christening of his baby brother, Jason cried and cried. When asked what was the matter he replied, "That preacher said he wanted us brought up in a Christian home, but I want to stay with you guys."


• When the Sunday school teacher asked the children why it was necessary to be quiet in church, one little girl replied, "Because people are sleeping."


• When the boys began arguing over who would get the first pancake, mother saw an opportunity for a moral lesson. "If Jesus were sitting here, he would say, 'Let my brother have the first pancake. I can wait'" Kevin turned to his younger brother and said, "Ryan, you be Jesus!"


• When the kids discovered a dead seagull on the beach they asked their father what had happened. He explained that the bird had died and gone to heaven. The little boy thought about that and replied, "Did God throw him back down?"


• At a family dinner with a few guests, the mother asked the little girl to say the blessing. "I don't know what to say," she said. Her mother smiled and said, "Just say what you hear Mommy say." The daughter bowed her head and said, "Lord, why did I invite all these people to dinner?"

Perhaps I have blinders on....

We have four grading periods at my daughters' school. After the first and fourth grading period, they have teacher conferences where you come in at an appointed time and meet with all of the teachers. During the second and third grading periods, they have what they call student-led conferences. This is where you come in at an appointed time and meet with your child who goes through a folder of each class that includes the grade, samples of their work, and a sheet of paper with questions they have answered. For example:

Q: Is this the best job I can do?
A: Yes, I think this is the best job I can do.

We are now at the third grading period and this week is the student-led conferences. I have not had mine yet because I am damn busy right now with a homebound mother, a sick child, chauffeuring duties, and various other activities. The times available have not worked out for me. I didn't think this was such a big deal until I discovered that if you don't come in for the conference then you and your child must do the conference at home and then answer some questions. One paragraph for each question. Because it is my fault that I'm unable to make these conferences I have decided to write all of the paragraphs for my children.

1. My conference went well because....my mother kept her mouth shut and let me talk. I discussed how well I was doing, what my goals were for the rest of the year, and how I thought I could improve on my grade. My mother listened to me and let me finish my sentences without interruption, despite the fact that her face was slowly turning a cherry red.


2. My conference could have been better if....my mother had just kept her mouth shut. Unfortunately, when it came time for the discussion part of our conference my mother began ranting and raving. She talked about how ridiculous this whole student-led conference nonsense was because she lives with her children and sees how they are doing daily. She feels that we discuss goals, grades, and improvements nightly. I had to listen to her as she griped about how some kids are able to retake tests and bring up their grades if their parents aren't happy, yet her child gets her grade lowered because she logged her reading on the back of the reading log because the teacher was out of logs at the time. She wasn't happy that some classes have discipline problems and she feels that the academics are suffering for it. She hated that my conduct was poor and blames herself because she has "mouthy genes" and has passed them on to me. I was very concerned about her because she kept mentioning that her head was going to explode.


3. What is one positive thing I've learned about myself or my academics? I learned that it isn't my fault that I talk too much. It is because I've inherited my mother's "mouthy genes". I also learned that this trait comes from both sides of our family and so I've got the double whammy.


4. What study skills work best for me on tests and quizzes? The study skill that works best for me on tests and quizzes is going over the information with my mother. Having her quiz me before my tests, ensures that she knows I know the information, as well as it lets me off the hook when the teacher takes off two points on my essay question because "we already know that the Spanish American war is a war" when I was restating the question into my answer. That way it isn't my fault when her head begins to explode.


5. Parents, please explain at least one positive outcome of your child's student-led conference. The fact that it was over was a tremendous relief to me. Listening to the reasons why my daughter's grade went from an A to a B despite her A's on tests and assignments makes my head explode. Knowing that my daughter gets 110% on tests each week in class and wondering why that doesn't make the teacher think that this might be too easy for my daughter makes my head explode. Feeling helpless and not understanding some of the teachers' rationale causes me great stress and doesn't help with my New Year's Resolutions of "letting go". I would have to say that the positive outcome of this conference was that my head didn't actually explode and that I am still intact and waiting for next grading period's conferences when I can sit face to face with the teachers.

Why I belong indoors

When Tom and I got married we made the deal that he would take care of the outside of the house and I would take care of the inside of the house. This meant that he mowed the lawn, raked the leaves, and completed all plantings and such. I scrubbed toilets and showers, cleaned all the rooms, and completed all the vacuuming and such. Of course we both pitch in when it comes to trash and laundry and such, but for the most part he is in charge of the outdoors, and I am in charge of the indoors.

Then the recession hit. Tom is busy trying to keep us above water and to keep his job. He leaves at 7:30 AM and most of the time doesn't return home until after 8:00 PM. He is tired, at times grouchy, and he could use a little vacation. So this morning I decided to give him one. After dropping off one child at school (the other is home sick) I returned home and stood outside in what use to be my driveway.

It is now hidden beneath mounds of pollen that drip from our huge oak tree in the front yard. You can stand right there and listen to the pollen as it drops. It sounds like rain trickling through the branches of the tree, which would be a welcome sound if it really were rain, but instead, it is this horrible, allergy-inducing, sneezing producing pollen.

It covers the yard, the driveway, my neighbor's yard, and driveway, and the street. A beautiful downpour would wash this stuff down to the sewer at the end of the street, but this is Florida and the reality is that there is no rain. It was up to me to find the driveway.

I got the outdoor broom, the one with the wooden handle, and set to work. Our driveway is divided into four sections. I started at the top of the first section in the middle. I decided I would sweep out from the yard to the middle and make one pile and then do the same with the other side, thus creating eight piles on the driveway that would need to be bagged.

While I swept, my mind was working through the second task, that of bagging the pollen and leaves. Tom usually dons work gloves and picks up the piles and bags them. I've always found this to be difficult, especially when it comes to getting both hands into the trash bag. Most of the time the bag closes in on itself and half of the pile misses. Then there is the problem of leaves and pollen falling from your hands or the dustpan. I got to thinking that the wet/dry vacuum would be easier. Bring that puppy out, plug her in, suck up all the pollen and what not, and then dump the inside of the vacuum directly into a bag. Clean and efficient.

Then out came my neighbor, Howard, to walk his little dog, Penny. I love Howard. He is a go-getter and a helper to those in need. He has given me (and Tom) advice from washing windows to cutting down trees. If Howard is upset about something in our yard, instead of whining or arguing, he will knock on the door and offer to remove whatever it is that is causing him agony, thus pushing us to get off our butts and take care of things. So out comes Howard who observes me working outdoors, and stops to chat. We discuss the indoor/outdoor thing of our marital arrangement and how the recession is forcing me to move outdoors.

Howard: "You know, I have a push broom in my garage. Do you think that would help you in any way?"

Me: "Well, this broom is working quite nicely, thank you, Howard."

Howard: "I have a small one and a big one. Shall I bring them over?"

Me: "Sure."

Howard: "Which one would you like?"

Me: "Which one do you think would be better?"

Howard: "Well, I like the big broom, but Netta likes the small broom. Which one would you like?"

Me: "How about you bring them both over and I'll be the deciding factor on that argument."

He brought over the big broom. He made me try it out and it was a nice broom that would cut down my sweeping time. In return, I gave him my bright idea about the wet/dry vac. He listened, pursed his lips, and said that sweeping it into a dustpan was another way of doing it. I joked that he was a man and didn't like straying from the usual. He left me to my work.

The big broom was wonderful. Those sections were done in record time, and soon I could see the driveway again. I moved into the street and had to go back to my broom as the push broom was too big. By now dawn had passed, the sun was rising higher in the sky, and I was getting a tad warm, not to mention tired. I hadn't eaten or had any coffee yet this morning. But I thought of Tom slaving away in his office, and I kept sweeping. By the time I finished in front of my house and my neighbor's to my left, I had five more piles.

I stood and surveyed the scene. My bright idea of the wet/dry vac was not going to work. My nice neat piles were spread out all over the place, and I realized that the extension cord on my wet/dry vac would only reach about halfway down the drive. I was sure that inventors didn't give up as easily as I did, but I had a blister on my right, middle finger from the wooden broom handle, and a ton of work inside the house, AND a sick kid in bed so I put on the work gloves, got out the big, black trash bag and began picking up piles.

By the time I got to the street, my back was aching from bending so much, my legs were shaking from holding my weight while bending, and I was wishing I had just gone to the gym. I had two piles left. Out came Howard.

He wandered out to put something in his trashcan waiting at the curb for pick-up. He sauntered over to admire my work and complimented me on my job. He did not mention the wet/dry vac, but instead took the broom from me and helped me finishing bagging the last two piles. I showed him my blister and he examined it closely, recommended a band-aid and some coffee, took his broom and headed home chuckling.

I heaved the heavy trash bag full of pollen, mulch and leaves to the curb. I cleaned up my mess and headed back inside feeling quite satisfied with myself and thinking how surprised my husband would be.

Seven hours later the driveway was covered in pollen again. It looked as if nothing had been swept at all. I whined all the way to soccer, and when I returned there was Tom, home from work, sweeping the driveway. Lucky for me I had thought to photograph my hard work. Lucky for me I had Howard as a witness, and lucky for me he had already filled Tom in on my hard work. I got some brownie points, but they were also given with quite a bit of snickering.....

No Dr. Doolittle, I'm Afraid

I'm not an animal person. I like them. I just don't feel comfortable around them. When I see a cute kitten or puppy I'm like anyone else. I think "how sweet" and "oh, she's adorable" and I might pet it, but it doesn't make me want one. Having one means taking care of something that I don't know anything about. It scares me.

My friend, Kelly, has two cats. One is Pigeon who Kelly has had since her Chicago days. The other is Cowboy, a cat Kelly got from a co-worker's cat's litter. Pigeon is this skinny, mangy looking cat with fur that sticks out all over her body in all directions. She is very sweet and loves to be petted, but spends most of her time under Kelly's bed because she is afraid of most things. Cowboy, on the other hand, is a slick, handsome male that could be on the cover of Cat GQ if they had such a thing. He has attitude, and if he wore clothes his pants would be hanging down his backside showing his underwear. He likes to torment Pigeon until she runs under the bed and then he wanders out and gives you a look like, "What? She's so moody. I was just trying to tell her I loved her."

This past weekend I was put in charge of caring for Pigeon and Cowboy. This happens about twice, maybe three, times a year. When my children are with me they brush the cats and play fetch with Cowboy. They fill up the food dishes and pour water in the bowl. They do not, and I will repeat this, they do not clean out the litter boxes, and they do not pick up the hairballs and cat vomit. I do this. With pleasure, of course.

This past Monday I went to Kelly's alone as the girls were in school. I unlocked and opened the door and quickly entered, pulling the screen behind me. Usually, both cats are waiting by the door as if they sense me on the other side, and I am terrified that Cowboy will run outside, down the stairs, and be off to seek his fortune. I am terrified of having to explain this to Kelly, thus my covert entrance.

This day, however, there were no cats at the door. I had a moment of panic that they had already escaped, or worse, died on my duty, but I pulled myself together and thought aloud, "they are probably still asleep as it is quite early." I moved into the living area and out slinked Cowboy from the bedroom. He was moving slowly, his tail straight in the air, a model on the runway. Pigeon was not behind him, but this didn't concern me all that much because she always comes running when she hears the pouring of the food into her dish. I greeted Cowboy, picked up the food container, and bent over to fill up the dishes. As I did this I heard a faint hissing sound from behind me.

"What was that?" I asked Cowboy, turning my head to look behind me.

"What was what?" said Cowboy, rubbing up against my leg. "Oh, you've come to feed me. Quite nice." He began munching out of the bowl.

I stared at him. I bent back over the bowl and heard more hissing, only louder this time. I stood up and whirled around.

"Hisssssss. I can seeeeeee you. Hissssssss. What do you thinkkkkk you are doing here?"

"What the hell is that noise?" I shouted. I then noticed that the cupboard door under the kitchen sink was slightly ajar. "Oh, my god, what the hell is in there?" I looked at Cowboy.

"What noise?" He had left the food and was standing watching me. "Are you hearing noises?"

"Do you not hear that noise?" I asked him, staring intently at the ajar cupboard.

"Hissssss. Hissssss."

"Pigeon! Pigeon, are you in there?" I looked at Cowboy. "Is Pigeon in there? Did you do something to her and she ran in there?"

"Me?" Cowboy rubbed against my leg again. "Why, I can't imagine why you would think such a thing. I haven't any idea where that fickle female is."

I stared at the crack in the door. Kelly's cupboards are made of dark wood and the interior is even darker. I conjured up a huge rat in among the pots and pans and cleaning equipment, its beady eyes watching me, its tongue licking its chops as it waited for the precise moment to pounce. I didn't hesitate as I heard more hissing. I kicked the door shut and leaped back, my heart pounding.

"Okay, Cara, get a grip. It isn't a rat," I told myself aloud.

I walked into Kelly's bedroom and began calling Pigeon. "Pigeon? Pigey...pigey, here pigey."

Nothing.

"Come on Pigeon. Breakfast time."

Cowboy stood in the doorway watching me. "Seriously," he said. "What's with all the drama?"

"I swear to god," I told him. "If you have done something to that cat."

"Cara," he said. "Cara, Cara, Cara. You really have lost it, haven't you."

"That's it!" I glared at him. "I can't do this anymore."

I stomped out of the bedroom and there was Pigeon, calmly eating food out of her dish.

She looked at me. "Meow."

I looked at the closed cupboard. I looked at the cats. I picked up my keys and left, clomping down the stairs, back to my car, away from the thing under the sink, away from the cats, muttering under my breath about how much I love our turtle.

Paybacks?

One of the things my mother always complained about was how we kids would either get sick or have some major catastrophe happen to us right before she went on a trip. Another thing she used to say was, "It will all come back to you." Let me begin my story.....

The day before I was to leave for Tallahassee at 4:30 in the morning the girls were in a speech contest held at their school. Both girls had moved into the final round of the competition so I went to watch it. It lasted about an hour and the teacher then told us we could take our children home since school was only another half an hour and we were already there. Madison and I were waiting for Darcy who was in the bathroom. She finally came out and we were all standing in the doorway talking. Suddenly Madison lets out this primal scream. Apparently, she had put her hand into the hinge of the bathroom door and someone had closed the door on her fingers.

Me: "Why were your fingers in the doorway?"

Madison: "There is a little place there to rest your hand. I always do that."

Me: "I bet you don't do that anymore."

Flashback
My father, Russ: "Go ahead and let her do it."

Me: "But she could get her fingers chopped off."

Russ: "And that will be the last time she puts her hand there."

After running her hand under water and taking her outside so that I could assess the damage, I dropped everything I was holding and had a moment of mother panic. Blood was pouring out of two incisions, one on the ring finger, the other on the middle finger. I pulled myself together (remembering my NY Resolution), wrapped her hand in paper towels and drove her to the immediate care center not far from the school.

There was no standing in line or waiting in the waiting room as the nurse took one look at it and ushered us into a room. Madison was holding on quite nicely until this exchange:

Me: (rubbing her back) "You're doing great. They're already looking better."

Nurse: "They don't look good to me. Might need stitches."

Madison: "EEEEeeeee"

Me: (rubbing her back) "Now we don't know that. I don't think they need stitches."

Nurse: "Could need stitches though."

Madison: "EEEEeeeee"

Me: (rubbing back harder) "Ah, nowadays they don't even use stitches, sweetie. They use glue."

Nurse: "Oh, we use stitches here."

Madison: "EEEEeeeee" (tears start pouring out)

The doctor, the same one who worked on Darcy after the horse incident, was wonderful. He sat down next to Madison and took over the back rubbing, talking to her in a calm, gentle voice. He looked at the fingers and said he didn't think stitches would be necessary, but he did want an x-ray as her middle finger was swollen. Off she went with the stitch nurse.

When she returned the doctor was perplexed. He saw on one x-ray only a bone chip at the top joint of the middle finger. But because he only saw it on one x-ray he wanted a radiologist to take a look at it, which meant he had to send off the x-rays and we would wait a day or two for the results. In the meantime, he explained that the door had gotten all four of her fingers right across the top. On the two fingers that were bleeding the skin had been pulled back from the fingernails and she would need to keep those wounds covered and in splints for a week. If the x-ray turned out to show a bone chip she would wear the splints for two weeks.

The stitch nurse was not exactly adept at wrapping wounds. She tried several different times and finally the doctor made her put away her care items and he told her what to use. Even then Madison's fingers were wrapped in so much red tape that they were three times her normal size.

Here is what her fingers looked like the next day after the removal of the bandages:

Did I mention this is her right hand? A little hard to write and type with those big old things on her hand so I'm now her typist every day after school. That is exhausting for both of us, but we are managing. She had to miss her last basketball game. Two days later we got the results: no bone chip. She can take these splints off tomorrow. I think she is nervous to do that as they protect her fingers from further injury. Her fingers are black and blue, but the skin is adhering nicely back under her nails.

We were in and out of the doctor's office in an hour and back at school to pick up Darcy. And I still made it a few hours later (4:30 AM) on my trip.

My mother will certainly laugh at this story. But Madison has agreed that she will not stick her hand into any more door jambs.

They grow up so fast!

From the Email Box

Actually, I believe my brother uses some of these......

Wouldn't you love to say these aloud to someone?

• Did you eat an extra bowl of stupid this morning?


• I don't know what your problem is, but I bet it's hard to pronounce.


• Well, aren't you just the most adorable black hole of need?


• Why don't you slip into something more comfortable....like a coma.


• Shhhh...that's the sound of nobody caring what you think.


• If you have something to say, raise your hand and place it over your mouth.


• You're not yourself today. I noticed the improvement immediately.


• Wipe your mouth, there's still a tiny bit of bullshit around your lips.

We might have missed the boat somewhere.....

We traveled to Tallahassee with four children in our car. The car belonged to my friend Jyoti. She and her daughter, Sarina, and Darcy and I were in the car, along with two other children, Alina and Maggie, whose parents were not able to attend. Jyoti and I found it interesting in watching the four interact. Clearly, our two were far removed from the other two as noticed in some of the following exchanges:

Our orders at McDonald's: Sarina - pancakes, Darcy - cinnamon roll and hashbrown, Maggie and Alina - yogurt cup with fruit.

Overheard at the Tallahassee Museum: 

Maggie: "It is a parasite." 

Alina: "Well, what is a parasite?"

Maggie: "A parasite is an organism that lives on another organism and gets its nutrients from feasting on that other organism." 

Alina: "Imagine if a parasite was as big as a cat or dog---" 

Sarina: "Do you want to go to the gift shop?" 

Darcy: "Yes." 

Sarina: "What do you want to get?" 

Darcy: "Candy!"

Overhead in the car: 

Darcy: "Alina, do you like Miley Cyrus?" 

Alina: "Actually, I like (names singer)." 

Sarina: "Who's that?" 

Alina: "She is a musician who plays the violin and the mandolin. Her music is quite interesting to listen to."

Jyoti and I were very impressed with the fact that these two girls traveled without family on an overnight trip where they were shuttled from a car with the two of us to a hotel room with two different adults. We are thinking that this summer our two should spend some quality time in the homes of these two girls.

Day 2 in Tallahassee

Tallahassee Museum

Last night we ended our day with a nice buffet dinner at Wakulla Springs. By the time we got back to the hotel, it was after ten o'clock. The adults mentioned hitting the bar, but I don't think anyone actually made it there. Darcy's head hit the pillow and she was out in one minute. I joined her not long after.

The next day we had breakfast in the hotel and drove to the Tallahassee Museum, about ten minutes away from our hotel on the shores of Lake Bradford. The museum is a taste of native Florida. There are 52 acres of scenic woodlands and a zoo in the woods that you explore by walking through.

We started off with a tour guide who took the children down into the woods by the lake. There she educated them in wildlife and then gave them nets. They got to wade through the lake into the muck, catching interesting tidbits in their nets and viewing them under microscopes. After cleaning up we were given the choice of staying and exploring or heading back to the school. Our group stayed.

We spent about an hour walking the trail and learning about the different Florida animals that were housed in the wooded zoo. We told our group that a quiz would follow and a prize would be awarded at the end so they paid close attention and listened to our parent guide.

We saw turkey vultures, Florida panthers, river otters, an American alligator, a white squirrel, bobcats, a black bear, grey foxes, wild turkeys, grey foxes, a bald eagle, an owl, and more. The view of the cypress trees in the lake was amazing. Everything was quiet and serene. The children were

interested and took lots of pictures and asked a lot of questions. The hike ended back at the center where the kids, of course, hit the gift shop. We held our little quiz and each child received a postcard of one of the animals we had just visited.

We loaded up our two cars and headed back to our hotel where we ate lunch. After that, we said our good-byes to Tallahassee and headed back south. We arrived back at the school at 8:30 PM. Most of the other parents had arrived an hour earlier so all was quiet. We called the parents of our extra children and waited until they were carefully placed back into the arms of their parents. Then we headed back to our home.

Darcy got ready for bed, filled her father and sister in on her trip, distributed the gifts she had purchased, and immediately fell asleep on the floor of her bedroom, her luggage taking up space on her bed.

Many people stated throughout the trip that Tallahassee was not a place they would have thought about visiting on their own. All of us agreed that we were glad we had been forced to tour it. It is an interesting and educational city with lots to explore and learn. And it is a city that should be visited whether on your own or forced to by a group of school children.

Tallahassee Challenger Learning Center

By 3:00 PM the adults are dragging. The kids are still going strong, but we can see signs of tiredness. Our next tour is the Challenger Learning Center, one of my favorites from my last visit. We are directed into the IMAX theater where we sit and watch Walking on the Moon produced by Tom Hanks. I can't talk much about this movie as I fell asleep about 3 minutes into it.

"Mom," Darcy said at the end. "I had to go to the bathroom really bad during the movie and I came to get you to take me, but you were like this...." She threw her head back, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth. "I had to get another mother to take me."

I go to thank the other mother and she laughs. "On the way back up the stairs after taking Darcy to the bathroom, I wish I had had my camera because 90% of the adults and 20% of the kids were asleep."

From the IMAX theater, feeling much more refreshed, we move into the Learning Center classroom where the children are divided into two groups and given a lesson. One group is then taken upstairs to the orbiting space station modeled after the International Space Station and the other group is taken to the Mission Control room designed after NASA Johnson Space Center. Darcy is in the Mission Control room and her job is one of the probes. She puts on her headset and begins communicating with her counterpart in the space station.

Some of the adults head outside for coffee, some choose to sit in the lobby and check phone messages, and a few of us sit with the kids in Mission Control. Only two adults get into the Space Station. The last visit the parents worked in Mission Control, but this year we have twice as many kids so the adults don't really have jobs. I help the director as he answers questions and helps with the jobs. On a screen above us, we can see into the space station at the other group. Over a loudspeaker, we can hear when the two communicators speak from station to control room.

After about 45 minutes the two groups switch rooms. I jump up and become one of the adults that head into the space station. We climb two levels where we enter a compression chamber and then enter the station. Each child goes right to work as we take off into space. I help the Med Team as they check the vitals of the astronauts. We work for about 5 minutes when an alarm sounds and we are told that our oxygen level has been compromised. We are immediately ushered into the Clean Room where Darcy and her team member are working on the probe.

We all squeeze into the room and close the glass door, leaving behind one member who is responsible for saving our lives. The other adult and I are wheezing and gasping for air. I notice that Darcy is terrified and several other kids are unsure. I stop horsing around and assure them this is pretend. The other adult begins clawing on the glass. I join him. Luckily, we are saved and the door opens and we report back to our positions.

Five minutes later we are taking cover as we are hit by a comet. After that incident, we are busily back to work. Darcy and her teammate are working in the clean room when they are given a command to turn something. They do this and a pop sounds and we are told that a fire has broken out in the Clean Room.

The two girls immediately try to open the door and the director shouts at them to stop. The other adult shouts, "You will burn us all!" The girls are told to listen to Mission Control on how to put out the fire to save us all. They are scared to death, but hang tough and save us all. When the door is opened both of them rush out and we can not get them to return to their positions. They have had enough. Pretend or not.

The tasks are finally completed and we return to earth. Without being told the adults all head into the gift shop.

Touring Tallahassee - History Museum/Old Capitol

The Florida History Museum, The Old Capital

Our next stop after leaving the new capital is the Florida History Museum. We walk there as a group and are immediately ushered into a back room. A museum worker explains to the children what the museum is all about. She asks questions to see how much the children are aware of Florida as a territory and is quite pleased when they know the answers. This makes CJ, our Humanities teacher, look good and he too is quite pleased.

From here the children are given maps of the museum and a book on treasures that can be found throughout the museum. The children divide into the groups they arrived with and they are off and running. They explore the exhibits of the Seminoles of Florida, Florida in the Civil War, and some of the history of Florida. The adults make a half-hearted attempt at following them, but soon realize that the benches along the wall are more inviting. Our 4:30 AM arrival time is starting to catch up with us and more than a few of us close our eyes as the treasure hunt continues.

It is nice to see that the children are interested in what they are viewing. Some of them carry on discussions with each other regarding certain items. The boys like the skeleton of the mastodon and the girls are interested in things they can touch. My daughter is most interested in spending money in the gift shop.

We end our time at the museum with a bagged lunch from the cafe, sitting outside in the Florida sunshine. From there we head to the Old Capitol.

The Old Capitol is directly behind the new Capitol. It is now a landmark building saved from destruction by Floridians. It holds exhibits on the government and political history of Florida. Our tour guide sits the children down and begins educating them on its history.

When Florida became a territory in 1821 the two major cities, St. Augustine and Pensacola, were separated by vast miles of wilderness. It was decided that a new capital would be established halfway between the two old Spanish capitals. Thus Tallahassee was born (given to them by the Indians) and a permanent structure was built in 1839 to house Florida's government. The building served as both a civil and military headquarters during the Civil War.

We watch a short film on the history of Florida and proceed upstairs to the old House of Representatives Chambers. Here we all take seats and take part in voting on legislation that actually happened in Florida. We listen to the speaker, hear pros and cons on the amendment and cast our votes.

The rest of the tour is on our own and we walk through some of the other rooms looking at photographs and exhibits. Again we end at the gift shop. Recession be damned.

Tallahassee Trip - The State Legislature

The New Capitol

We are starting our tour in the new capital because the legislature is in session starting at 11:00 AM. We troop through security where they scan our purses and our bodies. We do not have to remove our shoes, however, for which I am grateful. These are 4th and 5th graders after all!

We all crowd into the elevator crammed up against each other. I wonder aloud how it would be if the elevator got stuck. A few kids' eyes widen. Darcy sticks her thumb in her mouth. The parents wonder aloud if the hotel has a bar.

We enter the public viewing area of the legislature and sit down. The scene is quite impressive if you have never seen it in person. I explain to the four children next to me about what is happening. The speaker calls for a reading on the next item on the agenda. The item is read. Most of the representatives are ignoring what is going on. They are standing around talking, laughing, and yukking it up. Some are seated reading. Some are wandering around. Some woman is walking around carrying something like T'shirts, kneeling in front of representatives as if she is selling them. The speaker then puts the amendment to a vote and she has to repeat it in a stern voice as if talking to children. "Are all the votes in? Please vote now. All votes in now." Without missing a beat, still chatting or reading, the representatives move their arms and push a button. The kids are taking all of this in.

About ten minutes into our viewing a hush begins to fall over the legislature and we notice that the talking is slowly coming to a halt and all eyes are turning to the left of the room. Standing off to the side, waiting to be introduced and honored are Tim Tebow, Urban Meyer and Ryan Stamper from the University of Florida. By the time they are brought before the group, the entire room is silent. Urban Meyer, the football coach, spoke first, followed by Stamper and then Tebow. The girls in our group are perplexed, the boys thrilled. When Tebow stood at the podium and addressed the state lawmakers I got goosebumps.  I leaned over to the four girls in my row.

Me: "That young man down there? He gave up millions and millions of dollars because he could have turned pro and played in the NFL.

The girls are looking at me wide-eyed.

Darcy: "Why?"

Me: "Because he chose to stay in school to finish his education."


And our school trip to Tallahassee is off and running......