The Educational Summer Vacation: Studying New Zealand

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Every summer, my kids and I do an educational trip around the world, learning about different countries. Is it because can't afford to take a real around-the-world vacation? Yes.

But it also adds us some structure to our summer vacation (which could otherwise quickly devolve into a Lord of the Flies-type situation,) and my kids have grown to and really look forward to it. For this week, the 5-year-old chose New Zealand!

Monday

We always start a new country by finding it on the giant laminated wall map I bought here. It's held up well since I bought it 8 years ago and that's saying something because my kids are NOT gentle with it.

Yes, I know he's holding a fork here. My kids do their best paying attention when they're also eating.

After locating New Zealand, they each got a "passport" (which in this case means a stapled-together booklet of these free printable pages I made, which you're welcome to download and use however you like:)


Download the Passport Pages

They filled out the first page of their passports and then looked up and colored New Zealand's flag. As is my children's tradition, they were extremely equitable and divided it up into equally-sized sections for everyone to color. They like to fight over whether everything is equal, actually.

While they were doing that, I read interesting facts out loud from the Country Explorers book series: New Zealand and then we watched a 25-minute World Odysseys DVD from from the library.

Even though it's not the capital anymore, Auckland is the biggest city in New Zealand so we went to YouTube to watch this 4k drone video of Auckland. The 11-year-old liked learning about the construction of the Sky Tower (kind of like the Sky Needle of the southern hemisphere) and the 5-year-old liked this video of people bungee jumping off it.

Since my 15-year-old loves languages and accents, we also watched a few fun YouTube videos here and here about the differences between a Kiwi accent and an Aussie accent (we learned about Australia a few summers ago.)

For dessert we made a pavlova, which is a cake we'd also made when "visiting" Australia but this time we topped it with kiwis, because New Zealand.

Feeling on top of things because I have a theme, but just wait for it.

As I remember it, our pavlova from Australia turned out pretty well, but I must have done something wrong this time because it came out of the oven resembling a pancake more than an actual cake.

Not at all what it's supposed to look like, not even a little bit.

So we did what Evanses do: shrugged, topped it with whipped cream, and ate it, anyway.

Tasted better than it looks.

Tuesday

The idigenous people of New Zealand are called the Maori. The rest of the world says "may-ORE-ee," but if you talk to anyone from New Zealand they'll tell you it's pronounced like "Mao" in "Chairman Mao." (I kept attempting to correct my pronunciation and half of the time ended up pronouncing it "Maury" like the 90's talk show host. At least I tried.)

We learned about the Maori people and culture with a book called The Maori of New Zealand and this NPR video of a Maori dance called the haka:

Facial tattoos were once a really important part of Maori culture, so after learning about who got tattooed and why, we looked at examples of what the tattoos looked like and designed some of our own.

3-year-old.

(The more I look at this guy, the more sure I am he models for Abercrombie & Fitch.)

5-year-old.

I gave the older kids a face without features so they could draw them in:

7-year-old.

This one from my 11-year-old even captured the bug eyes and the snarl from the haka:

11-year-old (this one is definitely my favorite.)

13-year-old.

15-year-old.

After that, we watched Whale Rider, a movie set in modern-day New Zealand about a group of Maori struggling to keep their culture alive. (I was actually shocked to find out this was rated PG-13, I watched it with all the kids and it was totally fine.)

It was a gray day outside, and learning so much about Maori culture and thinking about colonization and assimilation all day made me a little gloomy, as you can see when Phillip texted me from work:

I wanted to try a traditional Maori meal for dinner, but since I didn't feel like digging up a 3' by 6' pit in our backyard for a hangi, I made pork and puha (sweet potato) and a loaf of Maori bread called rewena paraoa instead.

The bread is made from a fermented potato starter, which my daughter informed me smelled "like weird barf" as she was kneading it to get it ready for the oven.

I was proud that I even remembered to get the starter going a few days beforehand. Barely. I didn't remember until about 10:30 P.M. and I only had one potato instead of the three the recipe recommends, which I accidentally burnt while boiling because I was on Pinterest being extremely productive, but it turned out okay in the end.

A little helper of mine may or may not have dumped WAY too much salt in the pork and puha, so maybe we'll try it again sometime with the correct salt-to-broth ratio.

In a book called Land of the Long White Cloud: Maroi Myths, Tale and Legends, my 13-year-old reports finding a story that sounds like it was the basis of Moana.

I also gave my 15-year-old the novel I've been reading called Come on Shore and We Will Kill and Eat You All by Christina Thompson. It's half history lesson and half memoir, and it was really well done.

Fun to read in public so strangers ask what your book is called, then awkwardly move away slowly and avoid eye contact.

Wednesday

We started out by reading New Zealand ABCs by Holly Schroeder. According to the book, 'O' is for 'ocean,' so that's what we decided to focus on today.

We did the experiment detailed here to show the kids that saltwater is denser than freshwater.

The younger kids were too little to understand what density is, but they liked dropping the jewels in so at least they were occupied and happy for 10 minutes.

Then we watched this YouTube animation on just how deep the ocean goes, which was pretty cool.


Lastly, I wanted the younger kids to practice naming the oceans. The 3- and 5-year-olds played this free online game with the help of their older siblings to learn the names of the oceans and continents, while the the 7-year-old set herself up in front of the wall map and played this game.

I didn't know she'd want to keep playing it for so long, but it really held her attention.

Thursday

One unusual thing about New Zealand is its wildlife. Most of it isn't found anywhere else in the world, and up until a few hundred years ago it was all just birds (many of them flightless) and the only mammals were two species of bats.

The kids liked this video about birds of New Zealand. Not only was it was narrated by a little boy, but they enjoyed his New Zealand accent:


The kiwi is the national bird of New Zealand, and it's one crazy animal. The nocturnal bird runs instead of flies, and its eggs are humongous in comparison with its body size. (Just Google "kiwi egg x-ray" and you'll see what I mean. I will never, EVER complain about being pregnant again.)

We watched a few mini-documentaries about the kiwi here and here, then watched another short video on Tiritiri Matangi, a predator-free island off the coast of New Zealand to protect endangered species.

After reading a picture book called Charlie and Kiwi: An Evolutionary Adventure that explained how kiwis evolved into what they are today, the kids were assigned age-appropriate kiwi activities.

The older three worked together to make a brochure about the kiwi for tourists:

The back of the pamphlet.

The 3- and 5- year old each made paper kiwis with the help of this template from Activity Village and some Googly eyes:

I can't handle the cuteness.

My 7-year-old is about at the age where I should teach her to sew, so we followed these instructions and she made her own stuffed kiwi with felt and buttons.

Again: stinking cute.

She was so proud of the finished product, it almost made me want to become a mom who regularly does crafts with her children. Almost.

Then I remembered what the table looked like after we were done.

Spoiler alert: no one wanted to help clean up afterward.

I also gave the kids the book Kakapo Rescue: Saving the World's Strangest Parrot by Sy Montergomery. I'm not sure if any of them read it, but I think I get points for leaving it out for them, anyway.

Friday

New Zealand is covered with volcanoes, some of them still active. We checked out this map of NZ volcanoes and then headed out to the sandbox to make a volcano of our own.

We followed this tutorial, and had only slightly more success than we did last time.

The kids had fun, but our eruption just sort of bubbled over the top in slow-motion and was kind of... boring.

For some reason, pulling off a baking soda volcano is, in my mind, the benchmark of parenting success. It just seems like a classic thing to do with your kids.

But I've tried and failed enough times now to realize: I have many talents as a mother, but this isn't one of them. Embrace and accept.

Saturday

When I woke up this morning, my head was throbbing and I was losing my voice. I'd planned to play some sports today (the most popular in New Zealand are rugby and cricket) but I could barely breathe through my nose, letalone run around tackling people.

Luckily Phillip stood in for me and read A Kiwi Year: Twelve Months in the Life of New Zealand's Kids. Then he showed the kids this video on the rules of rugby and this one on cricket and took them out to the backyard to play them.

Sort of. We modified the rules and played with whatever materials we had on hand, so what we did in no way resembled actual cricket or rugby.

Are we the first people ever to play two-hand touch rugby? Because that's what we did.

But the kids had fun and it turns out that Phillip was better suited for sports day than I would've been, anyway.

That night we put on a movie for the little kids and watched Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring with the big kids, because it was filmed in New Zealand. If you visit New Zealand you can actually take a tour of the Hobbiton set, FYI.

Our library copy of Lord of the Rings wasn't working, and by the time we finished monkeying with it, giving up on it, and renting the streamed version from YouTube, it was 45 minutes later than we wanted to start.

Please note the March date on this note I found inside the cover. Thanks for fixing it, guys. NOT.

So this article on the 23 New Zealand locations used in filming Lord of the Rings (and The Hobbit) and this map of where in the country they are will have to wait for another day.

All in all "visiting" New Zealand for the first week of our educational summer vacation was a success. With a lot of little fails rolled up in the middle. But that's life.

And if you're looking for an interactive short story for kids, I recommend checking out Kiwi Cannot Reach! by Jason Tharp. It's a fun book for beginning readers and makes a nice bedtime story, too.

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7 Quick Takes about Meal Preparation Nirvana, the Dark Side of Furniture Shopping, and What I Get for Trying to Be a Super Mom

It's 7 Quick Takes Friday! How was your week?

—1—

I've always tried to have the kids help with meal prep, but this summer I got serious about it and assigned each of the four oldest children lunch and dinner one day per week.

It has been life-changing.

If I do everything myself, summer vacation is a never-ending cycle of preparing food, eating food, and cleaning up food.

Now I'm in charge of lunch and dinner about once a week. My involvement in meal prep is maybe reminding the kid in charge that it's their turn. Other than that, I just help as needed but mostly stay out of their way.

They choose the menu, write their own grocery list, and when we go shopping I send them off with a basket to find what they need. We meet up at the register where I pay for everything (my 15-year-old just buys what she needs after work, since she conveniently works at the grocery store.)

I love so many things about this system. I love that they're learning how to comparison shop, find things in the grocery store, and cook semi-nutritious meals.

But most of all, I love that they finally get a taste of what it's like to cook with kids swirling around you whining about how starving they are, and then when dinner is actually ready a half-hour later no one will stop what they're doing to come to the table.

—2—

Little kid-speak is the best. If my 3-year-old hadn't told me, I'd never know that the past tense of "drive" is actually "druved."

I also overheard a funny conversation the other night. The 3-year-old, who's potty trained during the day but still wears a diaper at night, ran up to Phillip holding his pajamas and diaper and said, "We shouldn't goes potty after our diaper is on."

"No," Phillip agreed, reaching for the diaper.

"Well... I didn't went potty."

And with that, the 3-year-old ran to the bathroom.

—3—

Last week I mentioned my 1st-grader bringing home her writing journal from school, and posted a picture of a page where she'd drawn hearts all over and written, "I Love My mom So much I wont to giv her a dozin harts [sic]."

Awww.

But in the spirit of presenting the facts in a fair and balanced manner, I also need to share something else.

This week I was watching her flip through the pages of a notebook she'd brought to church, mostly filled with drawings of fairies and unicorns but then she turned the page that simply said "I HATE MOM AND DAD."

So there you go.

I wanted to take a picture (or at least tell Phillip why I was practically busting a gut trying not to laugh in church,) but she scribbled it out and looked so embarrassed about the whole thing, I had to let it slide.

—4—

It's been a rainy June so far, but Saturday was a nice day so we decided to go to the rail trail in the next town over for a family bike ride.

As if that was something we could just do in shorter than the time it would take to actually pack up the entire house and move there.

It took forever, especially since the older kids haven't even used their bikes since last fall so we had to pump up all the tires. Then we had to load up six bikes plus the bike trailer for the little kids, and caravan it over there since we're a two-car family.

But it was worth it (I think) once we got out there. The sun was shining, the kids showed greater stamina than I expected, and it turned out halfway through our ride there was a park/beach having their opening day celebration. So we stopped to let the little kids run off some energy after riding in the bike trailer while we listened to some live music for free. One of our girls even participated in the hula hoop contest.

It ended up being a much longer thing than planned and Phillip bent a wheel on his bike, but all in all I still say it was a good day.

—5—

Even though my kids read more than any other humans I've ever known, and at any given time we have a list of library books checked out the length of my arm, I hate the library's summer reading program.

For us, it turns reading from a delightful pasttime for my kids into a chore for me ("Time me!" "How long was I reading?") and makes trips to the library stressful ("Go back, I forgot my reading log at home!!")

So we never, ever participate.

But my 7-year-old was super-excited to do the summer reading program this year and begged me to sign up.

"Fine," I told her. "But it's going to be completely your responsibility. I'm not in charge of timing your reading or reminding you to fill out your log or remembering to bring it to the library. Understand?"

Beaming with enthusiasm, she agreed and signed up for the summer reading program.

And then forgot her reading log in the library when we went home.

—6—

If my kids ever want to know what it's like to be an adult, I'm going to tell them about my most recent nightmare.

What are their nightmares about? Bears? Sharks? Tornadoes? I just had a nightmare about buying a new couch.

We were at the furniture store and after Phillip sat down on a couch for about 5 seconds he said, "I like this one, let's get it." So I picked up my phone to tell the salespeople we were buying it and to send the delivery people right over.

The second I hung up I was like, "Wait a minute! I haven't even sat on the couch yet! It's microfiber: it's going to look like garbage in a week! I hate the color! All the pillows and cushions are detachable and they'll be all over the floor all the time! WE CANNOT GET THIS COUCH!"

I was a nervous wreck standing there waiting for the delivery people to come pick up the couch (yes, I realize that isn't how furniture delivery actually works.)

I kept asking Phillip, "Shouldn't we call back and say we changed our minds?" and he kept insisting that he liked this couch, and besides, this was a local business and didn't we want to support local businesses?

I woke up in terror just as the delivery people arrived to bring the couch to our house.

(If you are Stephen King, please click the 'contact me' tab at the top of the page to brainstorm ideas for a new book.)

—7—

Sometimes I make parenting memes on Facebook (if you're not there, you're missing out!) Remember this one?

It's still true.

I literally took my kids to a castle and 4 out of 6 of them were complaining about how bored they were in the first five minutes.

Ohmigosh... SOOOOO boring.

We couldn't go inside (hence the kids' disappointment) but it was cool to walk around the outside and after their whining fell on deaf ears, the kids did eventually find ways to entertain themselves.

They played hand-clapping games, read in the grass, or, in the case of my younger kids, got interested in some caterpillars they found on the ground.

My 7-year-old put one in an empty jar from the car and wanted to take it home, so being the fantastic mom that I am, we used my phone to investigate caterpillar identification on the Internet and found that it ate milkweed.

Being the awesome mom that I am who embraces hands-on learning opportunities, I looked up pictures of milkweed, gave the phone to my daughter, and sent her off to find some milkweed leaves with the warning, "Just stay away from poison ivy!"

She came back a few minutes later WITH A HANDFUL OF POISON IVY AND GAVE IT TO ME.

For those of you who don't know, my body hates poison ivy. Just being near it is enough to cause me 6 weeks of sheer misery. And it's everywhere in New England.

That made a quick end to our visit. We immediately went home so I could burn my hands (just kidding, never burn poison ivy!) and the kicker is, I discovered later that I'd been looking at the wrong paragraph of the caterpillar identification article.

Not only was the caterpillar an invasive species you shouldn't ever feed or raise, it doesn't even eat milkweed.

Womp, womp.

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Everything I Need to Know About Marriage, I Learned From Two Turtles

I'm not really a knick-knack kind of person. If it were up to me, there'd be no such thing as a purely decorative object.

I would frolic through the house like Maria in The Sound of Music singing praises to the barren, empty countertops in every room.

Nevertheless, these two miniature turtle figurines sit on the counter in our master bathroom:

The green porcelain turtle on the right belonged to me in high school, and the silver one on the left was Phillip's.

I had a lot of cutesy stuff like my little green turtle back then, because apparently the childless version of me liked stuff a lot more.

At some point I would have discovered Marie Kondo and sent it to Goodwill, but when Phillip and I got married I found out that he also had a little turtle, given to him as a gift when he was a religious missionary in Venezuela.

What a funny coincidence! I thought, and put both turtles together on our bathroom counter as kind of an inside joke.

Thursday was our anniversary, which means those two turtles have lived side-by-side for 16 years. They've been through six moves across four different states and survived a decade and a half of not-so-careful handling by children... and it shows.

The silver one is tarnished and has spent a considerable amount of time missing his tail, which we later find hidden in all sorts of unusual places, courtesy of our toddler.

The ceramic one has broken three out of four legs, having been dropped countless times (usually while the child holding it is in the very act of solemnly swearing he won't drop it.)

Having been through all the moves and the children myself, I identify with this decrepit three-legged turtle and its mate.

Life so far has been full of joy, but it's also been full of hard days and late nights. Over the last 16 years, Phillip and I have waited in emergency rooms and operating rooms, been NICU parents, and known the grief of miscarriage.

The ordinary stresses of life don't sound as dramatic, but they slowly and steadily chip away at you just the same.

Fifteen years of raising a half-dozen children has left me permanently unable to complete a sentence, and Phillip rarely goes a week without some helpful co-worker telling him he looks tired.

We're no longer the fresh-eyed babies in our wedding pictures, that's for sure.

Picture from 2003.

But even though we're a little worse for wear, I think I somehow like us better for it.

The white hairs beginning to show at Phillip's temples are a reminder to me of the hard times; the laugh lines around his eyes are a reminder of the good ones.

Some people think the key to a good marriage is finding the right person. But even if you found that person, you'd wake up 5 or 10 years later to find yourself married to someone else. People aren't like museum exhibits, protected from the elements and preserved at all costs. The constant highs and lows of living shape us, just as slowly and surely as running water shapes a landscape.

That's why I think the most important thing, even more important than a partner who is committed to you, is a partner who's committed to being married to you.

No matter how you change, no matter what life throws at you, two spouses with a reverence for the institution of marriage will always stick together.

Which is why, I suppose, I like our turtles. 

It's clear that life has been rough on them, and that they're no longer shiny or new.

But as long as those two bedraggled and slightly beat-up turtles are together, I have to admit I kind of like them better that way.

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This Summer I Plan To Travel the Globe With My Kids (Sort Of)

Summertime, and the livin' is easy. Sort of. In our house, summer vacation is also a lot of work.

For the last 8 summers (not including the one where I had a baby and took a break) the kids and I have "visited" a different country every week of summer vacation. Not literally, but figuratively, in an educational sense of the word.

We use the Internet and especially the public library to talk about the geography, culture, and people of our country of the week. We listen to the music, learn a little of the language, and attempt to replicate a national dish or two.

By the end of the summer, I'm exhausted. It's less expensive than actually planning a trip around the world but probably the same amount of work.

We've baked melomakarona in Greece:

Made koi hangers in Japan:

And attempted a baking soda volcano in Chile:

This did not go well, by the way.

This summer we're back at it again.

Do I sometimes question whether it's worth it? YES.

But when we put up the big wall map and all the flags we've made during all the previous summers and the kids start saying things like "remember when...?" I know we all secretly love it.

Even me.

There are other flags posted on the rest of the walls, but I'm not showing pictures because the kids put them up crooked and it makes my eye twitch.

Every Saturday this summer, I'll post a recap of our week on the blog. Of course you're free to use our resources to do the same thing at home with your own kids, but more likely what you'll want to do is just laugh along at our Pinterest fails, and that's okay.

We're visiting five countries this summer, each one chosen by one of my older five kids (the youngest still just points at everything on the map and says "This is Russia!") and plugged it into a summer schedule that works for us this year:

Graphic design by my 13-year-old. Did I mention how much easier it is now that the kids are old enough to help plan all this?

June 24-29   New Zealand

July 1-5   Poland

August 5-10   Vietnam

August 12-15   Panama

August 27-31   Rwanda

Library, get ready for us to single-handedly double your circulation numbers. Here we come.

See you next Saturday for our first around-the-world recap of 2019!

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7 Quick Takes about Questionable Ways to Name Something, Night Hikes, and Children That May or May Not Be Related to You

It's 7 Quick Takes Friday! How was your week?

—1—

Our traditional Father's Day gift was a hit yet again this year: we told Phillip to go take a Father's Day nap while we cleaned out his car.

To understand this, you need to know that (1) Phillip doesn't get enough sleep and (2) his car is like a black hole. Nothing escapes it.

So he really appreciates that once a year, we remove all the flatware, loose change, odds and ends from the hardware store, random trash, and items Phillip means to return to the store that have accumulated over the last 12 months while he was busy dealing with other things.

We detail the whole car inside and out, leaving a new container of gum in the cupholder and a new air freshener on the dashboard. This year's scent was called "new car smell," which sadly Phillip's car will likely never be mistaken for no matter how it smells. But it's the thought that counts.

—2—

A few years ago, the Natural Environment Research Council in Britain held a contest to name a new $300 million research ship.

Notwithstanding that the NERC is a serious environmental science organization, the Internet banded together and overwhelmingly voted to name the vessel Boaty McBoatface.

I'll give you a minute to compose yourself.

I tell you this because right now at Phillip's workplace, they're building two new conference rooms and running a similar contest for the employees to give them names.

I told Phillip to suggest the "Phillip G. Evans Center for Really Good Ideas" and lobby his co-workers to vote for it. We'll see what happens, but I for one cannot wait for him to have his own named conference room.

If you're still laughing about Boaty McBoatface, here's a funny article about it that will make you laugh harder (slight language warning.)

—3—

Here at home, I've been hard at work passing my neuroses on to my children as mothers have done since the beginning of time (anyone else afraid of bird feathers because your mom freaked out when you touched one?)

After a particularly nasty bout with a poison ivy rash last month, I've been teaching the kids to identify and steer clear of the devil plant like it's a part-time job.

My 5-year-old is constantly pointing out poison ivy now, and I've subsequently realized how much of it is around the edges of the yard. A lot of it is near where they play or wait for the school bus, so I decided to suit up and remove as much of it as I could in those areas.

I was as careful as one can possibly be. I wore all long sleeves. I wore disposable gloves which I duct taped to my wrists. I tied plastic bag around my shoes to avoid getting the oil on anything I can't throw in the washing machine.

I made sure none of the oil on the plant could possibly touch me, and just to be sure I scrubbed my hands three times after I was done and then got in the shower to scrub down the rest of me three more times.

I still got a reaction.

This time it's not a rash or even localized. It's just a vague itchiness with random itchy bumps that appear and disappear within a few hours or days, which seems to be my histamines' way of running around in circles screaming "AAAAAAAHHHH!" while alarms go off.

Of course, while I was shuffling around my yard in long sleeves in 70-degree weather with English muffin bags tied to my feet, someone had to pull in our driveway and ask for directions. To the driver's credit, he acted like there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about my appearance.

—4—

In the kitchen the other day, Phillip and I were talking and I can't remember the particular reason why, but he finished his story by saying "I'm an old man."

"You're a sexy old man, though," I pointed out.

"Shh! Our daughter is right there," he whispered, pointing to our 15-year-old perched on the other side of the room reading a book.

Because one of the prerogatives of being a teenager's mom is being annoying on purpose, I said loudly to my daughter, "Hey, did you know that your dad is a sexy old man?"

Unrattled by my attempt to gross her out, she quickly answered "Good for him." Then, looking up from her book, she added, "And good for you, I suppose."

Then she went back to reading.

—5—

Living in New England for the last ten years, we've actually been lucky not to deal with any tick-borne illnesses.

Look at any Lyme disease map of the U.S. and all of New England is basically outlined in red while the rest of the country looks on in horror.

Figure 1: Places you shouldn't live.
courtesy Wikimedia Commons

So it was unfortunate but not a total surprise when on Tuesday, we realized we were dealing with our first case of Lyme disease.

Our 5-year-old had been feverish and lethargic since Sunday, and when he started complaining that his neck hurt I checked him for a rash and found a golf ball-sized one on his arm. It didn't look like a typical bullseye rash yet, but I think that's because we caught it so early.

The pediatrician put us on antibiotics right away and he's feeling better already, and since we treated it so quickly he should fully recover without any of the long-term effects you hear about when people aren't diagnosed for weeks, months, or years.

There should also be an antibiotic for the guilt of not finding the tick on your child in the first place, which can be as small as a grain of pepper so it's really easy to miss even if you try your hardest to be vigilant about it.

—6—

At this very moment, my 15-year-old is eating breakfast after having gone with a church group on a "night hike."

When she first mentioned a night hike I said something like "sounds like fun!" but I didn't realize what it meant until she actually started packing.

"Wait. So you're getting up at 1 AM and hiking up to the top of a mountain?"

"Yes."

"In the dark?"

"I told you it was a night hike, right?"

"Well... I thought you meant, like, a figurative night hike. Like at sunrise or something. Or that you were camping at night and hiking in the morning."

The fact that she still wanted to go, even though the point of the entire activity was climbing a 3,000 foot mountain at 1 in the morning and even though it was raining, conclusively proves she was switched at birth and cannot possibly be mine.

—7—

On the other hand, I know for sure my 1^st grader and I are related.

School is finally over and among the truckload of papers and smooshed crafts she brought home was her writing journal for this year.

It was fun to page through it and look at the stories she wrote about "what I did this weekend" or "my favorite __________."

I particularly liked this one:

Awwww.

But I digress: the reason her writing journal proves to me we're related is that regardless of the prompt, she managed to make half of it about how much she loved ice cream. She's definitely mine.

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