—1—
We are back from a weeklong multi-state roadtrip! We gave our graduating senior a performance driving school experience in South Carolina for his 18th birthday, and decided to make a family trip out of it and make lots of stops along the way so everyone else would have fun, too.
It mostly worked.
I'll write more about our trip later in a separate post, but I want to share one specific moment that stood out for me. We were making a pit stop and getting takeout from a Mexican restaurant in North Carolina, and somehow the 10-year-old dropped his food all over his shoes, the floor of the van, a library book, and his brother's jacket.
We'd been in the car for a few days already, the kids were tired and cranky, and I could easily envision this accident being the straw that broke the camel's back — or in this case, started the brawl in the parking lot of Salsarita's. However, no one yelled or made a sarcastic comment or made him feel bad.
Someone handed me the roll of paper towels from the front seat and I started working on the mess, scooping up as much rice and guacamole as I could and handing soiled jackets and car mats to Phillip and the kids to shake out in the grass for some very excited birds. They scrubbed everything and when we got back on the road, the 22-year-old spent the first 20 minutes of the drive wiping off every single page of the book that got salsa on it. It wasn't even her book.
Of course, there was plenty of stupid and pointless bickering on this trip. PLENTY. But those weren't my favorite moments. This one probably was.
—2—
We returned on Sunday night and it's been crazy ever since. Three of the kids are at three separate youth camps this week, meaning a lot of laundry, packing, and driving to drop them off and pick them up.
We usually unpack immediately after vacations. But five days later, we've still got suitcases and other road trip paraphernalia piled up by the front door, and I don't think any of us even see it anymore.
—3—
One reason we don't see the suitcases is because they're buried under the aftermath of a frozen food disaster that happened soon after we got home. The 12-year-old went to fetch a bag of frozen strawberries out of the gigantic chest freezer in the basement for a smoothie, but when he came back with a thawed bag we suddenly had an emergency on our hands.
Thankfully, the fix ended up being as simple as unplugging the freezer and then plugging it back in, and we didn't even lose any food because it was still cold.
But in other respects, the damage had already been done. You know how when you thaw a pound of chicken for dinner, you have to put a plate under it to catch the juice? Okay, now picture taking away the plate, and instead of a pound of meat there's 17 cubic feet of frozen food. There was blood and sticky berry juice at the bottom of the freezer, leaking out onto the floor, and covering every single bag and package. It also got everywhere as we temporarily moved it to the kitchen fridge and freezer.
I finished off a bottle of disinfectant and mopped the entire house twice, and STILL sometimes I lift up my foot and hear that crackly Velcro sound that means I missed a spot. It's unbelievable.
—4—
I led some gym games for my 4th grader's church day camp, and I was particularly happy to see this one 10-year-old who I simply adore. He MUST do the opposite of what is asked/expected of him in every situation, every time. I think I'm a weirdo because I love working with kids like this. I see their contrariness more as an endearing personality quirk than a misbehavior that bothers me, plus I usually find that they're unusually smart kids who are interesting and fun to talk to (they're just bored, which makes them seem obstinate).
Anyway, we were playing a get-to-know-you game where someone says their name and does an action (makes a peace sign, claps their hands, strikes a pose). Then the whole circle repeats their name and action.
We were going around the circle, and I was watching this boy out of the corner of my eye as he tried to figure out how he could do the opposite of what he was supposed to do. When it was his turn, he asked "Can I do nothing for my action?" Obviously, he figured that would get a rise out of me.
"Sure," I told him. "If that's what you want to do!"
He scowled and discarded that plan. I'd okayed it, which meant that now he couldn't do it. I could almost see the wheels in his head spinning. After a few more moments of silent calculation, he said his name and did his action. It was a big thumbs down... just to let us know that he might have lost the battle but he wouldn't lose the war.
—5—
I was outside with my 12-year-old when he saw this really cool dragonfly with spotted wings:
 |
| Pictured atop a giant weed in our walkway. We'll get to weeding once the freezer mess is dealt with. |
—6—
While we were swimming at the local beach, the 12-year-old left a chocolate-covered granola bar in the car. He still ate it on the way home, but as he was licking the melted chocolate off the wrapper, the 10-year-old told him, "It looks like you're kissing like they do in the movies when they eat each other's faces."
Kids have a way of describing things, that's for sure.
I just saw a Facebook post of someone who asked her son what he thought of her new tank top and he told her, "I'm not a fan of public armpits."
—7—
This week has been a very exhausting week, but on the plus side, I saw this car parked at the library with a flying pig hood ornament:
Which is probably a sign that everything's going to be okay.
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