7 Quick Takes about Fire and Ice, Mixing Up Your 20th Century Decades, and Intentionally Overdosing on Walnuts

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

—1—

Lately my 8-year-old has seemed like she needs some special attention, so when I picked her up from basketball I offered to take her to the library, just her and me.

She lobbied hard for ice cream, but the library won and I'm glad it did, because while we were there we happened to see a local winter festival going on.

The theme was fire and ice, and they had a big bonfire, food trucks, and a pop-up skating rink. We briefly wandered around and decided to come back later this afternoon with her little brothers, when she was wearing more than basketball shorts to keep her warm.

When we came back, there was a fire dancer there which made quite an impression on the boys.

We have 133 photos just like this one, because when I tried to take a picture my phone started taking burst shots and I didn't know how to stop it.

There was also an ice sculpture of two polar bears. It's hard to get a good picture of an ice sculpture, but you can see the tall one up top and my boys are petting the shorter one.

I'm actually not sure they were supposed to be touching this.

We don't have skates but the kids enjoyed sliding around on the ice rink in their boots, and a nice older lady (who I really want to be when I grow up) let all the kids take turns on the ice with her walker.

—2—

On Saturday, my oldest three kids went to a church activity with the teens from our entire stake, which is like 6 or 7 congregations combined. So there were at least 100 kids there.

They were learning about the scripture that is our youth theme for 2020, and then putting it into action with a service project.

This organization that builds and delivers bunk beds for kids in need set up shop in our gym and put them all to work with power tools. Presumably they were well-supervised, but I'm just guessing because I only came at the end to pick them up.

This is after all the kids had left, but my 5-year-old needed to go back in and visit the bathroom.

My daughter said they finished fifteen bunk beds, which is pretty good for 100 unskilled child laborers in three hours, I think.

—3—

Happened to see this in the drugstore and it was the equivalent of hearing your favorite song on the oldies station on the radio:

Thank you, CVS, for yet another reminder I'm becoming increasingly irrelevant.

These games were so cool when I was a kid. This is what you begged your parents for at Christmas and your birthday. And now they sell them next to the Snickers bars at the checkout for $14.99.

(By the way, that "retro" font is from the 70s and handheld video games are from the 90s, not that the current generation knows or maybe cares about the difference.)

—4—

One thing people are often surprised about when it comes to my church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, is our missionary program.

Instead of just sending missionaries to convert the unchurched heathen in far-flung countries you can't pronounce, we have them everywhere. We send missionaries to Colorado, you guys.

We have missionaries in our area, and recently they gave us copies of the Book of Mormon at church and asked us to give them to someone we know. A friend mentioned how she used to highlight her favorite verses before handing them out, and I thought, "Hey! That's a great way to explain why I like the Book of Mormon and what I find compelling about it," so I decided to try it.

I'm not a religious scholar and I usually can't recite from memory the exact chapter and verse of scriptures I like, so I sat down with my personal marked-up copy of the scriptures and transferred over some of my favorites.

I did it with the intention of giving it to a friend, but I didn't anticipate how much I was going to get out of it. Sitting down and reading through every Book of Mormon verse I've found personally meaningful over the years, one after another, was a very powerful experience.

I guess the way not to take something for granted is to look at it differently. Thanks, missionaries.

—5—

Phillip and I were leaving on a date (!) last weekend, and as we walked out the door we left the 13-year-old in charge, saying, "You hold down the fort!"

The 11-year-old wisecracked, "While they're gone, the little kids are going to pull down the fort."

The 5-year-old, listening to them, was prompted to yell, "The little kids are going to pull down your pants!" and started giggling uncontrollably.

I didn't really know what to say about that except:

When we got home, everyone still had pants and things were fine, by the way. The 5-year-old is all talk.

—6—

My 3-year-old has been officially cleared of his walnut allergy!

He had no idea what this certificate was for, but it had pictures of Minions so he was all over it. (I saw Frozen II string cheese at the grocery store last week which I think capitalizes on the same idea.)

First they gave him one walnut and waited 15 minutes to see if that was okay, then he had two and we waited, and finally he had to eat a half cup of walnuts... and let me tell you, that is a lot of walnuts. I don't even think I could eat a half-cup of plain walnuts, and I'm significantly bigger.

Luckily, the novelty of eating walnuts for the first time in living memory was enough to make him eat it all, even though it took 20 minutes.

—7—

While we waited for our appointment, I passed the time by reading the excessive signage in the waiting room:

The pillar o' signs.

Looking at this reminded me of the sign posted at our local recycling center. It has the standard reminders about things that are not recyclable: no asphalt shingles, no unnumbered plastics, and so on.

Apparently people were still throwing in a lot of non-recyclable items, so a handwritten list appeared next to the sign that grew every week: "No picture frame glass!" "No plastic toys!" and then finally, it became so long it included the final item: "Read sign."

I was legitimately sad when they took that one down.

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7 Quick Takes about a Moratorium on Coats, Mythical Creatures that Make Even Less Sense Than Mermaids, and Being Stalked By a Christmas Tree

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

—1—

My 15-year-old works for her high school tech crew, setting up and taking down the stage in the auditorium for different events.

When I dropped her off on Monday to set up for a concert, the school was still locked (because of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day) and the guy with the keys hadn't shown up yet.

So my daughter got out of the car and joined the other three teenagers waiting on the sidewalk, and there the four of them stood: shivering in their hoodies with nary a coat, hat, or pair of gloves to be seen.

It was 22° out.

(I don't get it, although if I'm honest I probably shouldn't talk. In high school, I would have willingly sustained severe back injuries than put both backpack straps on my shoulders. In fact, I would've rather dropped straight out of school than wear the thing properly.)

—2—

Speaking of things I don't understand, one of my elementary schoolers picked up a new book series at the library called Purrmaids.

Aside from the standard "how do mermaids go to the bathroom" queries from my kids, I still have questions.

Even if I accept cats who like water and sea creatures with fur, I'm still unsure about the function of the halter tops. Assuming purrmaids have the same anatomy up top as regular cats, those things don't even cover what they're supposed to cover.

And then when I was browsing the children's nonfiction for dinosaur books for my 5-year-old, I came across this tastefully done number:

Who approved this cover?!?

I kept looking at the bloody entrails trying to convince myself "Hey, it's not so bad. It's realistic. Carnivore life is graphic." But then my eyes wander to the severed claw in his mouth and I'm done.

—3—

My 13-year-old was filling out a form from her school's drama department so she can participate in the spring play and came to the question: "Is there anything else we should know about you?"

"Mom, is there anything else they should know about me?"

I shrugged. "Like what?"

"I don't know, should I write 'I'm a special snowflake?'"

Good thinking. That should guarantee a very large role when it comes time for casting the play.

—4—

One of my kids needed a blood draw (different kid than the one who needed it last week, thankfully) after a doctor's appointment.

The lab was very small, so to get your blood drawn you sit in this tiny little nook about 4' by 4'. On the wall directly in front of the chair, so close you could reach out and touch it, is a very large framed watercolor of a stream with some happy fall trees lining the bank.

Be relaxed, okay? I SAID BE RELAXED!

The fact that it was so big and in your face struck me as funny. It seemed to be suggesting very aggressively that you need to settle down so you don't pass out.

Not that I have ever done that.

—5—

I put a workout video on YouTube the other day and started exercising. I don't have a favorite video or person, I usually just search for "___ min workout" depending on how much time I have.

When this girl started out doing squat jumps that were lightning fast, I knew I'd probably made a mistake, but I decided I was just going to follow along at a more appropriate pace for a 37-year-old who sometimes worries about blowing out her knee.

My preschooler, however, kept looking back and forth from me to the video and insisting, "You're not doing it right."

Okay, FINE. But I have 20 years and 6 kids on her, so I think I'm doing pretty well, thanks.


Every 30 seconds during the workout, a loud beep would signal the start of a new exercise, each one more grueling than the last.

It sounded a lot like the bleep they use on TV to cover up profanity, which was ironic, because that's more or less what I was thinking every time it sounded.

—6—

Because we have a forested area on our property, we don't have to take our yard waste anywhere — we just dump it back there and let it return to the earth. That includes our Christmas trees at the end of the season.

Usually it's a fine place for our old trees (they actually break down pretty quickly,) but this time the younger kids keep messing around with last year's tree. Every time they go to play outside, by the time I go check on them they've already dragged it back onto the lawn for use in some kind of game.

I explained it was going to get sap all over the place and asked them not to touch the tree anymore, which seemed to work because they stopped.

Several days went by without incident, until one afternoon I backed out of the garage and saw that someone had "planted" the old Christmas tree upright in the front yard by burying the trunk in a snowbank.

I slammed on the breaks and gasped like it was a jump scare scene in a horror movie. Actually, I wondered if I was in one, because the creepy haunted object I've thrown away refuses to stay dead and it's starting to freak me out.

—7—

Meanwhile, my middle schooler is having fun with the letter board she received for Christmas:

I'll give you a minute.

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7 Quick Takes about Mantras to Calm Your Nerves, How to Know If Someone Has The Force, and Some Complaining About Home Depot

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

—1—

My 13-year-old daughter who plays the violin is auditioning for a big orchestra festival in February (fingers crossed; she's been having some wrist problems so let's hope it can still happen.) This past weekend, her music school sponsored mock auditions to help her get ready for the real thing.

As far as technical skills go, she's really good. Crazily good. The biggest hurdle for her is the nervousness before performing.

"Maybe you could try repeating a mantra to yourself just before you walk on stage," I suggested. "Can you think of one that might work for you?"

She nodded and replied, "Be vigilant. Strike first. Trust no one."

So she's obviously taking my advice very seriously.

—2—

My calling at church right now is working with the teenage girls, which means my daughters are often roped into helping me with things because they're the easiest ones to ask.

The presidency decided last minute to buy a case of notebooks for each of the girls to record some of their thoughts about the scriptures, and at the very LAST last minute (i.e: the night before we were handing them out) we had the idea to put an applicable scripture from the Book of Mormon on the cover.

I volunteered my 15- and 13-year-olds to mass produce them, and they were like little Santa's elves churning out 36 of these things in one night.

I helped a little, but not much.

My one regret is that I didn't take more pictures of the individual notebooks, as some of them were really different from each other!

—3—

A few years ago, my 3-year-old was diagnosed with allergies to peanuts, walnuts, and pecans. We went back to the allergist this week to check if he's grown out of them yet.

The first step was a skin prick test, where they poke his back with a little oil from the allergens, wait 15 minutes, then measure the welts to see how bad his reaction is. He showed negative for walnuts and pecans, so then we went to the lab to get it confirmed wit a blood test.

After the blood draw he narrowed his eyes at the lab tech and told her smugly, "That didn't hurt." (At least he didn't say "you're stupid," which is how he deals with situations he doesn't like at home.)

Pending the results of the bloodwork, we'll be scheduling a food challenge for walnuts and pecans later this month!

—4—

It was a beautiful weekend, you guys. Beautiful.

My daughter says she learned in her meteorology class that January is New England's coldest month.

In a weird, irrational way, the beautiful weather almost made me mad, as if it was somehow negating my recent trip to Florida. The entire point of that trip had been escaping the New England winter, so the fact that it was now 63° out was really making the whole thing look rather unnecessary.

Unreasonable emotions aside, I really enjoyed the day. I convinced my husband and daughter to take a walk with me, and then I dropped in to visit a friend who lives within walking distance while they continued on home. It was the nicest day I could have asked for.

—5—

Apparently I missed an incident that happened at home one day after school.

My 13-year-old licked her hand, told her 8-year-old sister "I have The Force, I can prove it" and then extended her hand and started walking directly toward her. The idea being that her sister would move out of the way, proving that she did, indeed, have The Force.

While this is a brilliant move I can't believe neither my brother nor I thought of while we were growing up, my 8-year-old triumphantly related to me afterward, "It didn't work, though. I didn't want her to say she had The Force so I didn't move."

"So what happened? She put her licked hand on your face?"

"Yep."

Sometimes even when you win, you still kind of lose.

—6—

In the latest episode of Why Did We Think We Could Finish the Basement Ourselves, we ordered a pallet of foam board insulation from Home Depot and were given the super-specific delivery window of 6 AM-8 PM.

I will never again complain about appliance repair people.

Unfortunately, this wasn't a good day for me to sit around looking longingly out the window for 14 hours, so of course when I ran out to do some errands that's when they came.

They left the pallet of building materials sitting in the slush on the driveway, and I'm really mad about it. It was partially shrink wrapped, so maybe it's okay? I told Phillip to deal with it so I guess we'll find out if it's ruined in the morning.

If it is, I'm not paying for it and I will fight that all the way to the Supreme Court if I have to.

Fourteen hours. That's not a delivery window, that's an entire square on the calendar.

—7—

Phillip started growing a beard. It's something he says every man should do in a lifetime. I'm pretty sure that's a direct quote from Confucius.

I have mixed feelings about it, but the interesting thing is that for the past week I've been running across articles on how scientific studies show men with beards are judged to be more attractive to women. Yesterday alone, I think I saw three of them.

Which is either a sign that I'll end up liking this beard experiment of Phillip's after all, or more likely, that Google is spying copiously on both of us.

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56 Practical Tips for Raising Independent Kids

As a parent, what's your end goal? One thing I think about a lot is raising my kids to be independent. 

Of course, I want close relationships with my adult children, but that doesn't mean I want them texting me 20 times a day asking for their social security number or how to cook rice.

It's about more than not wanting to field those phone calls, though. I want my kids to grow up feeling happy, self-assured, and capable. I want them to have confidence in themselves and their own abilities.

The things is, that confidence only comes from experience. Young adults are never going to believe "I can do this" unless they've experienced their own competence many times throughout their lives.

I believe it starts as early as toddlerhood, and opportunities to practice this mindset are literally everywhere. If you want to raise more independent kids, or if you're struggling to picture how it might look in your family, feel free to try some of these ideas from ours:

Toddler and Preschooler

Whenever it's safe, kids under 5 should be given every opportunity possible to do things themselves and therefore begin thinking of themselves as capable people. They can:

• Clean up their own spilled drinks and throw away their own food wrappers
• Put away their shoes and coat in a designated place
• Say 'thank you' for suckers at the bank or ask for a cookie at the bakery instead of you saying it for them
• Tell you when it's safe to cross the street when you're walking together
• Learn to advocate for themselves in disputes with other kids
• Make sandwiches and help with simple food prep
• Pick out their own clothes in the morning and dress themselves
• Clear their places at the table and pick up their own toys
• Do regular household chores (ideas for specific tasks by age here)
• Learn to identify employees in public places and how to ask for help if they get lost

In addition, things your toddler regularly uses (dishes, clothes, toys) should be stored within his reach so he can take them out and put them away himself.

Elementary Schooler

By kindergarten, most kids are ready for a lot more autonomy than we give them credit for. Most elementary-school aged kids can independently: 

• Pack their own lunches (even kindergartners)
• Keep track of their own special dress-up days at school
• Check the weather to determine how they should dress in the morning
• Order for themselves at a restaurant when the server comes to them
• Be in charge of bringing everything they need for sports practices or extracurricular activities (and putting it away afterward!)
• Look up a friend's number and call them instead of having you text/email their friend's parents to arrange playdates
• Do their own homework and ask for help if they get stuck
• Wait at the bus stop alone without an adult
• Handle transactions at the post office or grocery store while you are standing there
• Stay home alone at age 8 and babysit younger siblings at age 10
• Ride bikes around the neighborhood without you
• Learn to cook simple meals
• Learn to sew on a button
• Address and mail envelopes
• Get a screwdriver and change batteries that need replacing
• Do their own laundry (ours do their own by age 8, but they can help younger than this)
• Look at a map and give you directions (even if you already know how to get there)
• Own a watch and learn to follow instructions like "come home at 6" or "be ready to go at 4:30"
• Walk in front of you and navigate public spaces (finding the bathroom at the mall or directing you to your gate at the airport)

It's okay once in a while, but if your kid gets in the habit of calling you for forgotten homework or lunch too often it's perfectly acceptable to say, "That stinks! I really wish I could bring it to you today but I'm afraid I can't." They'll be much better about remembering it after that happens a few times, I promise.

Tweens

The tween years (which I think of as being between the years of 10 and 12) are really exciting ones. It's starting to feel like these little people you made are extremely helpful and capable! At these ages, kids are generally able to:

• Get themselves up in the morning
• Check in at their own dentist and doctor appointments
• Write their events on the family calendar
• Research things on the Internet for you
• Fill out their own back-to-school paperwork and tell you where to sign
• Visit and order from the restaurant of their choice in the mall food court (give them $15 and meet them at a table)
• Independently go anywhere within walking/biking distance
• Bike or walk to the library after school
• Be dropped off at a pizza place or movie theater with friends and no adults
• Ride public transportation alone, after they've learned how to do it with you
• Mail a package, pick up your library holds, or buy a gallon of milk while you wait in the car
• Open a bank account (we go with our kids to open one around age 12)

This is also a fun time for them to consult with you on projects around the house, like redecorating a room or planning a family vacation. Let them take a lead role in researching and budgeting, and you'll find they actually have some pretty good ideas.

Teenagers

By the time kids turn 13 or 14, things get rolling really fast. Your teenager is well over halfway to legal adulthood and it's more important than ever that they're ready to handle those responsibilities by themselves. Teens should be able to:

• Make their own appointments for haircuts
• Register themselves online for sports, pay school activity fees, order a yearbook, etc.
• Email their teachers with questions or issues instead of relying on you to do it
• Look at medicine bottles to find dosage information
• Decide their own bedtimes (although it's perfectly acceptable to set house rules about phone use, etc, after a certain hour)
• Know how to write checks and use a credit card
• Find a recipe, buy the ingredients, and make a meal from start to finish without help
• Pay bills by phone that pertain to them (using your credit card, with your permission)
• Comparison shop for something you need in store or online and buy the better deal
• Apply for a job and manage their own paychecks
• Handle their own banking transactions
• Be in charge of budgeting their own pocket money for non-essential expenses
• Maintain the car they drive and help pay for gas
• Manage their own grades, with parents only checking at midterms and the end of the year
• If going to college, handle most of the application process asking for help when needed

With so much responsibility on their plates, make it clear to your teens that you expect them to recognize when they need help and ask for it. Letting problems snowball because no one was checking up on them is not okay.

If you're not sure your teenager is ready for a new responsibility, let her try it for a little while to see how it goes. You can always scale back if needed, but sometimes she might surprise you!

A Final Word on Independence

I know I've provided you with a checklist of life skills kids can work on mastering by age, but don't get me wrong: real independence is more than just a list of what your kid does and doesn't know how to do.

Whether or not your kids how to clean a bathtub by the time they leave home doesn't matter nearly as much as whether they've learned to think of themselves as capable people. Because capable people can look at the dirty bathtub and say, "I don't know how to do this, but I know I can figure it out."

That, to me, is real independence.

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7 Quick Takes about Iambic Pentameter, How Video Games are Like Parenting, and Books You've Probably Never Checked Out Of Your Own Free Will and Choice

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

—1—

I had a dream this week, probably inspired by my daughter trying out for her school's spring musical, that I was auditioning for a play.

I was going to audition with a memorized recital of the "to be or not to be" soliloquy from Hamlet, and the only problem was that I couldn't remember it past the fifth line. Somehow, Dream Me wasn't too concerned, and as I waited for my turn to audition I just told myself, "I'll wing it. It'll be fine."

Okay.

The dream ended then so I guess I'll never know if that would've worked, but here's the really exciting part (to me, at least:) the first five lines of the "to be or not to be" speech were still reverberating through my head when I woke up, and they were totally correct.

Sometimes I feel bad that I don't use most of my college education (for sale: one bachelor's degree in English Literature - like new!) but other times I find myself accurately reciting Shakespeare in my sleep and that feels strangely vindicating.

—2—

So my son made me cry.

We're reading this book together called Caleb and Kit. We stopped at a scene where the main character Caleb, who has cystic fibrosis, was hurt to learn that a close relative did genetic testing before getting pregnant to make sure she wouldn't have a baby with CF.

When I asked my 11-year-old why our main character found this upsetting, at first he wasn't sure. But after we talked about it, he summed it up in a way that was so succinct it brought tears to my eyes: "Ohhh... so it's like they're saying that CF is worse than Caleb is good."

Which is exactly why I find it so devastatingly sad to read articles with headlines saying that we're close to "a world without _________ disease," not because we're learning to cure it but because more people are ending their pregnancies when they find out their baby has it.

I guess what I'm saying here is that no illness or handicap will ever be worse than your child is good, and it breaks my heart to think that not everyone out there knows it.

I realize I'm not a special needs parent, so I defer here to someone who is, and I recommend this excellent article on the subject by Kelly Mantoan of This Ain't the Lyceum.

—3—

I've had a game called Spaceteam installed on our devices for almost a year, but this week I finally got around to playing it with my older kids.

It was so much fun.

It's billed in the app store as "a co-operative shouting game" which sounds like something I'd absolutely hate, but hear me out.

The premise is that you're all on a spaceship, and the only way to keep it from self-destructing is yelling out on-screen instructions to each other. You're all getting different instructions at the same time, and they're in complete gibberish (with everyone intensely yelling "Set Eigenfunnel to 5!" and "Disable Fusion Deltaclaw!" over each other, I imagine Spaceteam is equally entertaining to watch as it is to play.)

While you're simultaneously trying to read and shout commands and follow other people's instructions, you're also trying to repair the control panel on your screen, which starts falling apart every time a mistake is made.

I think you get the picture. Not a relaxing game you want to play with a cup of warm milk before bed, but still silly and hilarious fun.

Anyway, I'm playing this game and noticing that every once in a while, the game developers slip in a funny command.

"Schedule activities!" my daughter yelled at me as I frantically tried to fix my smoking control panel. "Fold towels!" And that's when it hit me: this game is about parenting.

—4—

My 7-year-old started horseback riding lessons in September, which she loves but the barn is terrible about invoicing me.

At the beginning I had to make several emails and talk to the lady in charge, as well as my daughter's teacher, a couple of times before I finally got on the email list.

I got regular invoices for a few months, but now they have just stopped coming.

I've made several emails and talked to all the same people again, and do you know what? Still no invoices.

I've never had to work so hard to pay someone in my life.

—5—

In a fit of nostalgia, Phillip and I sat the kids down and watched Cool Runnings over the weekend. You know Cool Runnings. (If you can't chant "Jamaica, we have a bobsled team" in the appropriate rhythm then I don't think we can be friends.)

You know you know the words.

The movie came out when I was a kid and the Internet wasn't really a thing, so watching it again with a smartphone in hand was a different experience.

I always liked that Cool Runnings was a true story, but according to this article the only true thing about it was that there indeed was a bobsled team from Jamaica, but that's about it. The real team wasn't assembled from hopeful Olympic sprinters and their lovable underdog friend, and John Candy wasn't even their real coach. So disappointing.

—6—

On the hunt for a non-fiction book to keep beside my bed in case I can't sleep, I checked out a book called Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. I heard it mentioned on an NPR interview a while ago and thought it sounded interesting, which it is.

Maybe a little too interesting. It's actually so fascinating it makes you stay up even later to finish the chapter; not exactly good put-you-to-sleep reading.

Given the subject matter, this could potentially be a depressing, disgusting and/or gruesome read, but the author inserts just the right amount of humor in all the right places. I have laughed out loud several times while reading this book, and given that it's about corpses that's saying something.

Here's how she introduces a facility that researches the process of human decay:

I'm sorry, but I love this book.

—7—

Did I mention I have a nasty cold?

I felt it coming on and took some nighttime cold medicine before bed on Wednesday, and on Thursday morning I felt like I was dragging myself through molasses. I thought it was just a medicine hangover until I realized halfway through the day I was just really sick.

When I'm too sick to do anything productive, I read (as much as one can while trying to convince a bored 3-year-old to stay out of her pile of wadded-up tissues and stop climbing on her head,) so I'm already halfway done with my book.

So if you need me, I'll just be on my deathbed reading about cadavers. Nothing weird or anything.

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The Trip So Perfect, You Can't Believe It Happened

When Phillip first told me he had to attend a conference for work last month, I groaned inwardly as I always do at the idea of him going out of town, especially during busy times like, oh, say, December.

But this time there was a twist: the conference was in Florida, and did I want to come, too?

For years I've dreamed about tunneling out of the Massachusetts snow in the depths of winter for a tropical vacation, but we haven't been able to make it happen. Is Florida tropical? No. But it's close enough.

After we figured out how to keep the kids alive for 4 days and bought my ticket, I could hardly sleep. Four days of not getting stuck in an icy driveway! No static electricity! No dry skin! Nobody running away from me screaming "Don't touch me, your hands are freezing!"

I was so excited I didn't even ask any questions.

I didn't know Phillip's itinerary for the conference or whether I'd even really see him. When a friend said "I used to live in Florida! What city are you staying in?" I had no idea. Wherever it is, it was 75° and that was all I needed to know.

And that is how I went from sledding with the kids to eating cupcakes on a hotel balcony overlooking a courtyard full of palm trees, legitimately getting overheated in a light cardigan. It was heavenly.

This picture makes it look as if I'm in jail, but it was actually lovely.
Also, even if I was in jail, I would still be in Florida.

It was relaxing and restorative beyond imagination, but first I want to tell you that I have never been so seasonally confused in my life.

Having always lived in places that are cold and snowy in the winter, I never even thought about the fact that sunny Florida was also celebrating Christmas.

I mean, I logically knew they used the same calendar, but I was so deep in vacation mode that it wasn't until I got off the plane in Tampa and practically ran into a holiday garland-wrapped pillar that I remembered, "Oh yeahhhh... it's Christmas for them, too."

From there, things got weirder.

The display case at the bakery was full of pumpkin spice donuts and eggnog-flavored cupcakes, which I associate with sweater weather but I guess Floridians, like, eat them by the beach while applying SPF 50.

Christmas carols were playing in the trolley that took us from the resort to the beach walk downtown. We listened to "Little Drummer Boy" with the windows down, something I could never do at home without risking frostbite.

To me, palm trees are the ultimate symbol of the relaxed pace of a summer beach vacation, so seeing them inexplicably wrapped in Christmas lights (which symbolize the hustle and bustle and thermal base layers of winter) was beyond disorienting.

I know it's completely normal to people who live here, but not to me.

Where I live, it's not Christmas until you go outside and the surface layer of your eyeballs freeze.

Everything, from my complete lack of personal responsibilities to the tourists wandering around in their khaki shorts, confirmed that I was indeed on vacation... but then we'd pass a car with a Christmas tree tied to the roof and suddenly I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Just stick the Christmas tree between the palms and pretend like we didn't have to ship it 1,000 miles here from Cleveland.

I also associate the warm weather with long summer days, so imagine my surprise when it continued to be winter and the sun set at 5:30 every day.

I mean, I did get to watch the sun set from the hot tub at the resort so it's not like I'm complaining.

For the rest of my life,  I think I'll remember how it felt to walk down to the ocean with my sandals in my hand, feeling the sun on my back for the first time in months. 

I just closed my eyes and took the deepest breath ever, like I was trying to literally inhale the moment. I WAS LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF THIS. 

This break from real life would've been welcome at any point during the year, but to abruptly go from the misery of single-digit temperatures to walking barefoot on the beach was like an out-of-body experience in all the right ways.

Phillip and I did have some logistics to discuss (because purportedly, Christmas was still coming) but I insisted that we do it all from the balcony or beside the fire pit on the patio. I didn't want to waste a single second sitting indoors.

It pained me whenever I had to go inside. I would've slept out there if they'd let me.

The view from our balcony, which I probably should've slept on now that I think about it.

This trip was a weird combination of a solo vacation and a couple's trip.

While Phillip was in talks and workshops during the day, I laid at the poolside or walked on the beach or went downtown and ate lunch with a book. After he was finished in the late afternoon, he'd join me and we'd figure out what we wanted to do for the rest of the night.

We took an evening walk along the beach and came across some people singing Christmas carols by the ocean, and strolled a pier where we could browse vendors' booths of overpriced jewelry made from shells.

We had tasty food and milkshakes (flashback to our trip to New York City where we got milkshakes from the same place twice in one day because they were so good, I guess that's how we party hard on vacation.)

We tried not to rely solely on selfies to remember this vacation, but when we asked a random person to take our picture on the beach it just turned out like this:

Not pictured in this crooked shot: the beach or Phillip's head.

So we decided that selfies would have to do.

Four days and three nights came and went, and it was time for me to go home. Though I would've loved to stay longer forever, I did notice that by end I was getting used to the ocean and the sunshine. The Christmas decorations on the palm trees didn't seem noteworthy anymore.

In retrospect, four days was the perfect length of time for me to be there and still appreciate every single second of the trip.

When I woke up the first morning after coming back home to New England, I looked out the window to see it had snowed overnight.

Even though it was colder, every branch was coated in white and I took the same deep breath I had taken that first day in Florida and thought Well, this is ridiculously beautiful, too.

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7 Quick Takes about Graham Crackers, Mixing Business and Pleasure, and Looking for Something Boring to Read

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

—1—

I have no idea what day it is. I realized today was 7 Quick Takes Friday when I got in bed last night (so that's why this is a little late.) I'd gone all day thinking it was Wednesday, which doesn't even make sense because the day before I'd told all the kids it was Thursday and made them do their Thursday chores.

It's very disorienting to have everybody home from school and work, and then starting it all back up in the middle of the week.

To add to the confusion, my kindergartner has a cold and stayed home so he hasn't been to class for over two weeks. I worry that by Monday I'll have forgotten he's in school and stop sending him.

—2—

When you have a baby, one of the things you don't realize you're signing up for is spending all your New Year's Eve midnights in the car picking them up from a party when they're teenagers.

You get lulled into a sense of security when they're little and you can just do a random countdown at 7:30 PM before you send them to bed and no one is the wiser.

So anyway, after Phillip and I dropped the big kids off at their party and put the little kids down for the night, we celebrated in our own way by getting pints of ice cream from the gas station (convenience store ice cream is practically highway robbery, by the way, buy it ahead of time at the grocery store next time!) and watching a comedy special on YouTube.

It worked for us.

—3—

One thing we always do over Christmas vacation is make gingerbread houses. In the past we've bought premade kits, but this year we decided to use graham crackers and make our own frosting. (Mostly because I'm always worried they're going to chip a tooth eating the spiced cardboard that passes as gingerbread in those kits.)

This didn't really save any money, since by the time you buy all the candies and sprinkles separately you've spent about the same. But there was less chance of a dental emergency and definitely more freedom for creativity.

I loved the green gummy bear riding a peppermint swirl bike in the front yard.

This Spanish hacienda designed by my 15-year-old was especially delicious.

Really, the only downside to doing it this way was that by the time we were finished the table looked like this:

The finished product, though, was completely worth it. We all liked this way better than a premade kit.

Like the fancy Ukranian eggs we dye at Eastertime (Take #4 here,) there is definitely a learning curve, so I think we'll get better at it next year. Phillip suggested we push all the platforms together after the houses are built so we can decorate it like a real village with streets and everything.

—4—

My kids' favorite part of making gingerbread houses, though, is what happens afterward.

I keep meaning to find out what other people do with gingerbread houses, but what we do is set them on the counter for a few days, admiring them and periodically accusing various children of picking at the candies when no one's looking, and then on New Year's Day we gather 'round the table and watch each child smash theirs with a meat tenderizer. Then they feast.

Right now this is just something we've always done that they take for granted, but I think one day after they're grown, this is one of the traditions that will make them look back and say, "My childhood was so weird and so awesome."

—5—

Last Saturday, Phillip and I went on a breakfast date. Well, it was half-date, half-business.

When he and I took an impromptu 4-day trip to Florida last month, it made both of us realize that we've got to build these things into our lives more. It's easy to get caught up in the grind of life and never take time out (because taking time out requires planning ahead, which also requires time you don't feel you have.)

But we agreed that we need to do it more.

So we spent a few hours in a café with our calendars and phones and notepad and pen, sketching out a rough plan for what we're doing for the rest of the year. Things like a backpacking trip Phillip has been wanting to take with the older kids for about 3 years, or an anniversary trip for the two of us in June that I'm really looking forward to.

This is probably the most on top of things that I've ever been in my life.

—6—

Our town holds an annual holiday tree hunt, where different corporate sponsors decorate a tree in the woods along various hiking trails for us to find.

It's all very official: a list goes out and your "team" works to find the trees before New Years. If you find all the trees and send in photographic evidence, you're entered to win a prize.

Our team name was Yes, They're All Ours.

Even though we found all the trees, we weren't chosen in the drawing so no prize for us. But it was still fun to get out and go walking in the woods every day.

Playing on a frozen lake next to the trail.

Looking for beaver dams, I think.

We like to hike but it's usually a summer activity only for us; I liked this and would probably never think to do it on my own.

—7—

About a year ago, I checked out a book about math from the library called Here's Looking at Euclid. I'll give you a minute to think about the title and give it a groan/laugh.

I've discovered that what I need at all times on my nightstand is a non-fiction book that's just interesting enough for me to want to read it but also boring enough to put me to sleep. Before Euclid it was The Hope Diamond, which also took me about a year to finish.

Now that I'm done with it, I guess I'm in the market for a new sort-of-boring book. Any suggestions? (No novels, please. I can't risk page-turners that will actually keep me awake.)

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