Happy Birthday, No Foolin'

I've enjoyed reading other blogs where my friends write to their children or reminisce on their child's birth. As I jump back into blogging, I thought I'd begin with the story of how my four legged child, Amber, became part of the family. Our biological children all arrived on holidays or in T-Man's case a holiday weekend. Some years his birthday is actually on Labor Day. Amber was no exception to holiday births; being born on April 1, 2004.

On the Mother's Day weekend of 2004, I was planting flowers in our backyard. Doug came out and said that he saw an ad in the paper for Australian Shepherd pups and their cost was quite reasonable. He was also guessing that they were not pure bred registered pup (better in his mind). Now I was unaware that we were looking for pups and I wasn't sure what an Australian Shepherd looked like. My husband told me they looked a bit like Lassie.

Doug wanted to know if I wanted to go look at these pups. As I am not a dog lover, I don't remember being all that excited about looking at pups especially if it was tied to getting a dog. Since I love my husband and could tell he was excited, I agreed to go look at these pups.

We loaded up the kids and headed to the country to see the puppies. The kids were bursting with excitement, speculating on the color of puppy they would get and arguing over potential names. I did remind them that we were only looking at the puppy and may not get one. Well here's one fact: When you take kids to "look" at pets you must be resigned to the fact that you won't be leaving without a pet.

We headed down a long country road with fields all around us and arrived at a house with a huge yard. In the side yard the owners had a large wooden shed with a fenced area around it. The puppies had their bedding in the shed and the parents were running around the unfenced area. The puppies were adorable butterball fluffs. They looked like baby bear cubs. They kids loved on the puppies and petted the adult dogs.
We somehow came to a consensus on the puppy we wanted. The selection stemmed from the hair coloring as we were partial to the brown fur tones and the kids were hoping that this dog would have two different eye colors (one blue and the other brown) or blue eyes. Doug paid the owner and off we went with a puppy.

As we headed home I realized that we had no food, bowls, collar, leash, or any other supplies a dog might need. I was in the throes of buyer's remorse thinking of how we had torn this puppy away from its siblings and parents. Would it cry all night and make messes in the house? The kids were tossing out names. I think a couple of the contenders were Chocolate and Jasmine but we settled on Amber. Her name came from her amber colored fur.

Sometimes we call her Am-Bear, since she reminded us of a bear cub when she was a baby. When we lived in GA, T-Man would yell out from my upstairs bedroom window to the neighbor girl as she'd come home from school. He'd yell, "Hellooo Am-bert (instead of Amber, a southern speech impediment)." She'd yell up to him, "Helloooo T-Man." My baby boy would throw his head back and laugh and laugh and begin the hello Am-bert all over again. So there are times when I call Amber, Ambert and remember my baby boy laughing and giggling from my bedroom window on a warm fall day in the south.Arriving home we put Amber in the backyard. The boys played and laid around with her while Doug headed off to get puppy supplies. Amber was our children's first dog. I have to say that Amber has been the most trainable dog Doug and I have ever had. She has a wonderfully sweet disposition. She does have a couple of annoying habits like peedling on the floor when she get excited or gets in trouble. And she barks incessantly at every non-family member, even the neighbor girl who is in and out of our house all summer long and is like a member of the family. Amber, like all my children has not lived without adventure and giving her mom gray hairs. Amber had lived with us for less than a month when we headed to FL for my parent's 40th wedding anniversary. We took Amber with us, stopping frequently at road side stops for potty and water breaks. Once we returned home we noticed that she kept scratching under her chin and she has some raw red bumpy patches so we took her to the vet. It turned out that our puppy was allergic to fleas. Who has ever heard of dogs being allergic to fleas!!!

Doug and I often took Amber for walks on the middle school track near our house. We'd drive to the track and walk. We'd take water bottles for us and a dish for her, so we could all have water breaks as we worked out. One day as she was getting into the van after our walk she gave a big yelp and whined a bit. When we got home we noticed that she was limping. Once again we were off to the vet. It turns out that she had torn her dew claw and needed surgery. When we picked her up she had a red cast and a long list of special instructions.Of course we wouldn't let a little thing like a cast keep us from our vacation. So off Amber went to Indiana with us on her second long distance trip. In the above picture she is riding in a horse drawn carriage with Doug.

When dad's away the kids tend to stretch mom's mental health to it's limit. When dad's away is really a whole other post, but Amber figures prominently in two of Doug's absences from the home. The first was in the fall 0f 2004. Doug was off at a conference and I came home from school with the kids to find Amber absent from our backyard. We quickly found her and I seemingly discovered her escape route by the gate and laid some pavers down across the gate entrance so she could not shimmy out from under the gate.

Well, when we returned home the next day she was gone again. This time we were hurrying to head out to soccer matches and I was more than a bit irritated that this dog had disappeared yet again. While I wandered around the neighborhood looking for the dog the kids were to get their soccer gear on amid tears. I came back empty handed, loaded the kids up and drove around more areas of the neighborhood looking again for the dog. No luck. So I took some teary eyed kids off to soccer. We returned home after the games and saw Amber walking down the sidewalk. We tearfully grabbed her, put her in the backyard, and watched her go to the back of the yard, jump on to the railroad tie retaining wall, walk across the wall into the neighbors unfenced yard and take off. The kids took off to capture her and Amber stayed indoors until Doug returned and we hired a company to put in an eight foot chain length section of fence.

Several years later Doug was again out of town and my daughter (the human one) decided to take Amber out back to play. Amber had a rope with a rope ball attached and Mimi would swing and throw the ball. In their playing Amber got struck in the face/eye with the rope ball. I hear hysterical gulping tears causing me to run outside to see what disaster had befallen my girls. I cannot understand my daughter and as I examine her from head to toe she is finally able to tell me she has hit Amber in the face and Amber's eye is bleeding. With these words, I thinking I'm going to be sick, but grab Amber and look at her face. It appears that her eye is red and scratched and her eyelid is torn. I get Amber inside and have T-Man hold her while I get down on my knees with a wet washcloth to examine her more carefully.

It turns out that Amber's eye appeared to be watery but O.K. and the her lower lid had been scraped. I get the dirt off of her and apply some antibiotic ointment of the human variety and call the vet's emergency number. He will see Amber at seven am the next day before school starts. With Amber and kids in tow we head to the vet's office. In my distressed state the vet suggests that I leave Amber for the day with him, take the kids to school, and go to work. He will call and update me later but he was sure she was fine. It turns out that Amber's eye did get scratched but with regular applications of an antibiotic eye gel she would be fine.

These accidents were beyond Amber's control and were somewhat related to human error but Amber has managed to create havoc all on her own.

While Amber was still in her first year of life Mimi and Doug were looking at Doug's 40th birthday album I had made for him. The 40th birthday album was a tradition that Doug's mother, Barb, had started. She made a photo album for each of her children, that highlighted their life, as a 40th birthday gift. Barb died before Doug's 40th birthday and his father asked me to make Doug's album. Doug's dad sent me photos, notes, report cards, and various id's from Doug's early year. Doug would sometimes pull the album out and the kids would gather round to muse over the pictures and hear his stories.After one such trip down memory lane, Doug put the album back on the shelf. It was sticking out just a bit from the other books and albums. Just enough that a bored puppy left indoor all day could sink her teeth into it. While we were all at school, Amber pulled out the album and chewed on every single page, creating enough damage that every page in the album had to be replaced. Luckily all but three or four pictures could be reproduced from negatives. It took me several years to let that anger go and remake Doug's album.

Along the chewing line, Amber and the cat (Salsa), somehow got Amber locked in the master bedroom. Amber pawed the door and wood flooring in front of the door, took big bites out of several pieces of my clothes and books. The only chewed piece of clothing I kept was a salmon color trench coat with bite marks on the cuff. (I wear it in the spring and keep thinking that one day I'll take it to a tailor and have that person make repairs to it.) When we got home from school Amber was whining in the bedroom and the cat was sheepishly sitting in the hall in from of the closed door.

Amber now an old gal of seven has mostly settled down. She hasn't chewed up anything that I know of, she doesn't escape from our yard, and her injuries are down to a minimum. She has gotten two new sister, my late in life twins. The babies adore her and drive her crazy. I am positive that Nova, our calico, thinks that Amber is her mother. I think that because the two have such similar coloring and Nova has attached herself to Amber more so than Nimbus, our white kitten. When Nova was just a few months old she could often be found curled up with Amber.
No matter how your children enter your life, they manage to touch your heart and fulfill you in ways you could never have imagined. Although I'm still not a dog lover, I do love my Am-Bear.

Merry Christmas

Our Christmas letter went out a little late this year. I'm guessing many of you received our photo card and letter a few days after Christmas. This year's photo card required more schedule coordinating than I imagined. Both boys had jobs and were either working evenings or weekends.

Dugger was hired at Taco Bell this fall and works several evenings a week. T-Man was hired at a local nursery as a Christmas temp. This entailed working the day after Thanksgiving and all the weekends leading up to Christmas. (At Thanksgiving, I was immensely thankful that both boys were gainfully employed.) T-Man predominately helped people select Christmas trees. We're hoping this was good training for one day heading to Washington State and helping his uncle and aunt sell Christmas tree from their Christmas tree farm.

Our photo idea for 2010 was to take a picture outdoors at a picturesque site on our local walking trail. I had the bright idea of us each wearing a sweatshirt that represent our schools. I even thought that T-Man could unveil his college selection by announcing it on his sweatshirt. His college decision-making process has been a lengthy up and down journey and he's still mulling over his options, alas no unveiling. With our days together sparse and frigid temperatures dominating, we were struggling to get our photo taken.

So with Christmas right around the corner, a new idea had begun to take shape in my mind. What is the absolute one thing all the Hatches love to do? READ! How about an indoor picture by the Christmas tree with each of us holding our most favorite book. However, I have lots of favorite books. Just ask my kindergartners, "Ms Hatch yesterday you said that book was your favorite."

As four of the five Hatches were riding in the van headed for the last day of school before Christmas break. The question of when, where, and by whom are we going to get our Christmas card picture taken. I mentioned the book idea. Doug thought of the favorite Christmas book idea. In posing the question, What is your favorite Christmas book? Doug, T-Man and Mimi answered, "The Year of The Perfect Christmas Tree". I was thinking this isn't going to be too good if we all have the same book. How will that represent a wealth of Christmas memories?

Yet in some ways this answer was not surprising since Doug and I have been reading this book to the kids since Dugger was a toddler. It has been a family tradition to read this story during the Christmas season. For several years Doug would go to Mimi's class at school and read the story to the class.

Doug and I know the author; Doug having worked with Gloria Houston for many years at USF and it's a wonderful story. The story is based on Gloria's family and is set in the Appalachian Mountains. Before the father goes off to war, he shows his daughter, Ruthie, the tree their family will provide their church with for Christmas. He ties her red hair ribbon to the top of the tree so they will recognize it later. It was the tradition that a member of the congregation would provide the Christmas tree. With dad off at war, Ruthie and her mom trek off to chop down the tree and take it to the church. Ruthie's mom makes Ruthie an "angel" dress for the Christmas Pageant from her wedding dress. In true Christmas style many blessing are bestowed on the family that night.

When Mimi was going to be the angel in our "Instant Christmas" at church, she crawled into my lap on December 23rd and asked if I would make her a dress just like Ruthie's with long flowing sleeves. I almost said yes. I yearned to say yes, but as I looked up from our mother-daughter cuddle I could see Doug shaking his head and mouthing, " Are you crazy!". I got the point and didn't make the dress. Luckily the church committee had a lovely costume with long flowing sleeves perfect for an angel.

With excitement brewing, Doug asked if I could get four copies of the book (We have our copy at home, making five.) I thought I could round up four copies between the librarian and other teachers. Now where to take the photo. Duh... Where else but a library! I envisioned one of those READ posters. The Hatches own READ poster.

Our librarian at school has painstakingly decorated our library for the Christmas season for more years than I've been at the school. She calls it the Enchanted Forest. Among other books she reads another of my favorites, The Polar Express to the children each year and gives them a sleigh bell. Another wonderful tradition. This would be a great setting for the photo.

Hopping out of the van on the last day of school, I ran down the hallways hunting for those early arriving teachers. Two rooms down I found two teachers each with multiple copies of The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree. I then began my hunt for the librarian to make sure we could take our picture in the library after school that day. With my mission accomplished, I called Doug and told him we were a go. Round up the kids, grab our book, bring me some make-up, and meet me in my room at 3:30.

I forgot that I had a meeting right after school. The meeting was wrapping up as the family arrived. They headed to the library with my friend and teaching assistant who would take the picture for us (as she's done for the last eight years). As I was running late and didn't want to keep my friends after school too late (especially on the last day), I let go of my vanity and dispensed with make-up. So what you get is our most impromptu and au natural state of being. This is a true glimpse of life with the Hatch family.

Mimi's Room

As my summer came to a close with the return to school, I surveyed my accomplishments for the summer. While many left me with a sense of pride and satisfaction, I realized that once again I had failed to accomplish all I hoped. In recent years I have parred back my summer to do list with the hopes of having a list that can be realistically completed. Alas, not so for this year.

I made a new resolve to try to spend a bit of time each evening working on some of those incomplete or no-start projects. It's that idea of taking baby steps instead of moving full force day and night to complete a project. I would just dedicate a little bit of affordable time each day until the task was completed.

The one unfinished project closest to completion was Mimi's room. I needed to finish redecorating it. In the summer of 2009, as Doug headed out of town, I threw open the windows and pulled out the paint. To paint I had packed up all of Mimi's knick knacks and remove the shelving. I took down the curtains and drywall patched a hole left from repeated curtain rod hanging. In two or three days I had her walls painted. The boys helped me rearrange the furniture so many times that they actually had the audacity to tell me they would move stuff only one more time, so I'd better make up my mind. That was the end of the redecorating for 2009.

With renewed vigor in the summer of 2010, I thought I'd get Mimi's room finished. I'd bought curtains in the winter that needed tweaking, needed new rods (as I had mixture of metals on the original set), and the light blue wave shelves that hung on her wall did not match her new decor; so yes in true HGTV fashion I decided to repaint the shelves. This way I could get the two boxes of knick knacks up off the floor of Mim's room. At least painting is an area for which I have much experience. I sanded the shelves, primed them, and began their finish coat. Then the summer heat came bearing down and the dust flew as road work commenced outside our house. So the shelves were shelved so to speak.

So with cooler temperatures in September, I pulled the shelves back out and turned the garage into my work room. I re-sanded the shelves and continued with the finish coats of paint. Once dry they were ready for the wall.That led to placing Mimi's wall decorations back on the wall. She and I also had a fun evening adding wall clings that we had bought on T-Man's college visit to Michigan State. With curtain rods ordered we were well on our way to finishing off her room. Ready for the big reveal....

The comforter doesn't exactly fit the design, however I like the green stripes with all the other color. I debate between ordering a duvet cover or not. I plan to make her a quilt in the near future with fabrics that will complement the room color. We'll see what happens.

Leading Two Lives

In August I was offered the opportunity to teach a course at our local university. With one child in college, another heading off to college in the fall, and a dancer with competitions, private lessons, costumes, and shoes I couldn't ignore this offer. In addition this course covers just the type of information I enjoy teaching, Human Growth and Development. In my excitement to earn extra money and work with adult learners, I had forgotten how rigorous and time consuming it is to prep a course you have never taught before. Although the subject matter was very familiar the course structure was new.

Instead of teaching college courses the last several years, I was paid to offer technological delivery advise, design, and build web based courses to professors' specifications. While this offered it own challenges it was vastly different from teaching a class to adults. I found myself working hard to to stay ahead of my college students.

I was fortunate to have some very generous professors share their textbook (until I got mine), assignment ideas, requirements, and PowerPoints. Even with all that help from August through the end of October I spent time every evening working on my course or working on my kindergarten class and professional demands.

While juggling a college course and my kindergarten class, I had one of those moments that transported me back to my teaching days at Georgia Southwestern State Univ. (GSW). In those days I was a half-day preschool teacher, college professor (teaching two classes), and an academic advisory to elementary education majors. I was often frustrated in those early days when I had one aspect of my professional life organized, prep work ready for class, and knew just where I was headed and the other areas was in disarray and I struggled to stay ahead of the game. As frustration mounted I would switch my energies to the somewhat neglected area and get that running smooth to the distraction of the other part of my work.

I often felt that I lived two lives. The pre-school teacher organizing centers, playing with children, band-aiding the occasional boo-boo and the college teacher preparing PowerPoints, providing interesting active learning opportunities, and offering advise to students dealing with the everyday stress and frustrations of college life. On one hand I was the teacher who communicated regularly with parents and on the other the teacher who by law could not disclose information to parents without their child's consent.

So this fall as I was working at my list of to do's, I breathed a sigh of relief as I had finished grading the last paper of the most recent assignment and had half the week of college classes were planned. I then remembered that I had a second list, pulling it out made me face the reality that lesson plans weren't finished and I needed to go back to school to pull out my math resources for the week. Aaah the double life and double lists.

Although stressful at times, I managed to really enjoy teaching my college course. Doug was a great help as he reminded me of old resources that either he or I had used in the past. He often ran back to his office at night to bring me a hand-out or a book to consider incorporating in my class. And I have to say that I had one of the best groups of college students ever. They ranked right up there with three of my most favorite groups at GSW.

Friday ended the college semester and I've posted final grades. The kindergartens are bouncing off the walls, humoring me with tales of Santa, and my assistant is wearing a "tacky" Christmas sweater and decorative headwear each day. With two days of school left before the break, I have plans that will keep the most bouncy child engaged and enthralled. My reward today was pajamas till 10:00 while lounging on the couch with a diet soda and HGTV. ...and blogging.

Setting Down The Phone

I had another dream that seems to be plaguing me. I've already had the bagworm and Rick Springfield dream. I really don't need more. When I had this particular dream two months ago, I thought I could just let it go. Chalk it up to bizarre dream stuff that doesn't mean anything. Right?? I'm embarrassed that I'd place any stock in my dreams and for this particular dream I'm ashamed of my behavior. I'd like to think the behavior is not indicative of me; but as the dream pops in my head day after day (like my conscience talking to me) I'm beginning to wonder.

Here is the dream. I get a phone call from a long ago/long time friend. This is a friend that I have not seen or spoken to in twenty-something years. We do exchange Christmas cards and this person now lives in closer proximity than before. Yet I've never taken the time to arrange to see my friend.

I answer the phone and my friends says, "Hello, Aggie. Do you know who this is?" In my dream I can really hear the tone and rich timber of my friend's voice. It's a goose bump feeling to be able to close your eyes and hear the exact sound of your friend's voice. I immediately know who is calling.

In my dream, I say that of course I know who's calling. I'm giddy with excitement and we begin a conversation. I don't remember the exact conversation. It seems that we are just catching up on each others lives. During the conversation exchange, while my friend is talking to me, I set the phone down on my desk and walk off to do stuff. We're talking land line phone, not cellular or blue tooth. I'm wandering around my house while my friend is presumably still talking to me on the phone.

I come back and pick up the phone and try to act like I never walked off in the first place. Obviously I failed at that, but my friend is too kind to call me out on this behavior. We continue to talk some more and once again I set the phone down and walk away. I have no idea why I've done this. I care greatly about my friend and I know I would love to talk to and listen to my friend for hours. I'm positive we'd never run out of conversational topics. What's wrong with me??

When I come back and pick up the phone, my friend say, "It's obvious that I've called you at a bad time so I'll let you go." Immediately it clicks with me that my friend needs me. A friend that I look up to and admire, that I'd never think would need me, does in fact need me. I can now hear what sounds like weariness, sadness, or loneliness in my friend's voice. My friend needed me as someone who knows him and accepts just as he is, not seeing him as an extension of his life's work .

In my dream I redeem myself (somewhat). I exclaim,"No, no, no don't go." At that point I sit down and really listen.... and my dream ends.

I woke up feeling out of sorts and worried that my friend in real life was in need of my support or help, that something was wrong. Then I thought oh sure Aggie, it's all about you. Why would this friend NEED me? So I worked hard on letting the dream go and not giving yet another dream too much importance.

Then because it is my dream and hey isn't it all about me anyway. I began to look at my dream not as my friend needing me but the message being that I have figurative set down the phone and walked away from those reaching out to me. How many times have I set the phone down on my children, husband, parents, and siblings? Life pulls me in one direction and I just half listen to their communication, try to mulit-task and communicate, or bury my head in the sand and not communicate, because sometime it's hard. To be honest, I'm not dealing very well with this self-interpretation of my dream. I'd like to shelve it to the back recesses of my brain. Unfortunately that little voice keeps bringing it back to the forefront.

In September one of my dear friend's mother died. This is a friend that I have not directly kept in touch with over the years. It was good that my parents and sister could be there for my friend at her mom's wake and funeral. Well, my friend mailed me a wonderful letter after her mother's death and I've carried it around with me for weeks (setting down the phone, instead of making conversation). Every day I think today I've got to stop (pick up the phone) and make the time to write my friend a note. It's not that I don't have a card. I have a basket full of all kinds of perfect cards. It's not that I don't have great stationary. I have a file cabinet full of great paper, thanks to my Office Depot cravings. It's not a matter of want. I want to reach out to my friend, reconnect, and be a part of each others lives.

Then my dad e-mailed me this weekend and said that another one of my old FL friends called my parent's house and was looking for me (in GA). She wants me to call her. Now, I did e-mail my dad right away. But did I grab my phone and call my friend.....

You have to understand that I like these friends. I'd even go so far as to say that I love these friends. They've been integral parts of my life. We parted on good terms and I don't think we ever intended to lose touch of one another. But I'm finding it hard to "pick up the phone". I have convinced myself that there is a better day or time to "pick up the phone". On that magic day the words will flow easily and they will be the perfect words (maybe I'll be cuter and skinnier too).

Today I've finally decided that I won't procrastinate my way into believing that perfection will come. So I've just decided to do it (thank Nike)! Before finishing this blog which took two days and contemplations of leaving it in the draft pile, I wrote my friend and addressed the envelope. Perfect or not off it goes. And I'll call my FL friend tomorrow or the other tomorrow.

Poor Baby

I left my daughter at outdoor education in tears last night. I swear my kids sure know how to pull at my heart strings and make me worry more than a normal person should. I had already had a couple of restless nights worrying about her falling off a horse and breaking something (o.k. her neck), flipping the kayak and drowning, or getting the West Nile virus. Need I go on with my irrational thoughts. Then I get to outdoor education to see a perfectly healthy child who wants to go home where more often than not she is soooo bored.

Outdoor education is a program that started forever ago at our school. Fifth and sixth graders stay with their classroom teachers, a couple of P.E. teachers, and an art teacher at a campsite with cabins and a lodge for several days and do all types of outdoor educational activities. (photo from 5th grade.) The seventh and eighth graders along with their teachers stay at a state park in tents, cooking their own food on Coleman stoves, and expand on those outdoor learning experiences.

In the weeks leading up to the four day and three night stay, the students choose tent mates, plan menus, assign cooks, and go on a shopping field trip to price the cost of their planned meals. In Mimi's seventh grade year she practiced, at home, cooking her favorite breakfast of bacon and hash browns and she cooked pancakes. These would be the meals she would prepare for her tent mates. This year she did not practice. I think her cooking job was cinnamon sugar toast.

The night before the trip we helped Mimi pack her gear in a large rubber maid tub. In true Girl Scout fashion we pack with an eye towards being prepared for just about anything. Beyond the basic clothing needs we packed good quality rain gear that consists of a rain jacket, rain pants, and rubber boots. Over the years the groups have camped in the rain and I mean rain storms with blowing wind!!! The kids would come home so muddy parents would just throw their camping gear away.

Mimi's weatherproof tub of camping gear. The Kleenex were for nosebleeds (allergy related) not tears.

Even though or because it is October we pack sweatshirts, winter coat, gloves, a stocking cap, and these hand and feet warmers that are chemical gel packs. T-man's eighth grade outdoor education year (see photo) had teachers allowing kids to use the teachers' cell phones to ask their parent to bring coats and socks. They had had days of rain and then the tiniest amount of snow flurries, enough to make them cold and miserable. What else did we pack?... flashlight, batteries, garbage bags, towel, soap, toothpaste and brush, hand sanitizer, fry pan, bike helmet (bike and horseback riding), sleeping bag, camera, and mom's treasured West Point army blanket, and books. Can't go anywhere without a good book.

Mimi's eight grade class left on a Tuesday morning after loading their personal gear and team gear in a U-Haul truck. They headed to Wal-mart to purchase their food before heading to the wilds of the state park. Thursday night we would get to see her and Friday they would eat breakfast (cooked by the teachers) break camp, load the U-Haul, and arrive back home (school) around 1:30.

As Doug and I drove out to the state park for parent night, I felt that maternal tug on my heart of another milestone passing by to quickly. This would be our last outdoor education event, as Mimi will be heading to high school next year. I also said a prayer that she would not cry to go home like last year. When we arrived for parent night, Mimi was thrilled to see us. Giving us exuberant hugs that about knocked me off my feet.

Parents brought side dishes and dessert. Campfire roasted hot dogs were provided. I brought two batches of Mimi's favorite Spanish rice. We had fun chatting with her and her friends. As dusk began to fade into night the tears and complaints arose. Outdoor education was terrible. They don't learn anything. The toilets are horrible. The food is bad. Take me home!!!

I asked about kayaking, oh yea that was fun. How about getting water samples? She was looking forward to that. Oh yea that was fun too.
Mom: I'm guessing you (Mimi) didn't ride a horse since you don't like horses and have never ridden one.
Mimi: Oh no, I decided to ride one. It's part of the experience mom!! I rode a wonderful sweet horse.
Mom:What about astronomy? The star are gorgeous here. Did Mr. B bring the big huge telescope this year.
Mimi: Yea we did that last night. Oh and we had night hikes but they were too short. Sniffles and more tears.

We walk her down to her tent to check that out and get her in closer proximity to her friends.
Mimi: We hear wolves at night.
Dad: I think those are coyotes.
A few more tears and then she remembers that she left her book at the group gathering site. She heads back to get her book leaving Doug and I by her tent. I'm think can I run to the van now and escape the water works and pleas as we leave. But no I tough it out.

Mimi returns. I hug her and say we need to leave. She hangs on and again pleads her case to go home. In my heart, I know she's a picky eater and probably didn't each much. I know that she is a picky sleeper but she had my Army blanket. And I agree the bathroom facilities are horrible when you camp. I have exhausted the calm gentle reasoning of consoling, finding the silver lining, speeches of best experience of your life, this will make you stronger. Doug just jumps in and says we're not taking you home. With that we give her a hug, Doug promises lunch at her favorite restaurant, and we leave.

In the van I console myself. I remind myself that she loves the outdoors. This is the best weather you could have on a camping trip. Her tent group consists of her best school friends and they really get along well. Having been one of the outdoor education teachers in years past, I know that this is a wonderful, enriching, safe experience. The biggest caveat that I remind myself of is that she is a teenager, likes to complain (can we say spoiled), and loves to push mom's buttons.

She arrived at school Friday afternoon and dragged me outside to help carry her gear. She called her dad, and skipped off to lunch leaving her fire smoked, sweaty gear in my classroom.

The main camp site for the group, which includes a campfire.

The girls' horseshoe tent area. The center of the horseshoe has a campfire.

The tent buddies.

Our Babies

On Tuesday, after I finished teaching my college class, I rushed the kids (human kind) over to the vet's to see the new family members. We will bring our baby girls home Friday. Life has been a whirlwind (that's the positive spin) without Doug here so waiting until the start of the weekend to bring Nimbus and Nova home was one of my better decisions.

Nimbus is a little more skittish than Nova. Nimbus liked to snuggle and does not like being moved from person to person. Both kittens purred like crazy.

Nova was a little more adventurous, moving about on T-man's lap. She didn't mind being taking turns being held and loved on by each of us. She also batted her paw a bit like she wanted to play.