Forgot to mention…

I have my ‘disclosure’ meeting (I’m sure I’ll learn tons… not) tomorrow. Additional paperwork has been completed – the adoption support paperwork is supposed to take around 6 weeks, which puts me in the middle of October, but they may speed it up in order complete the adoption sooner. Lord, I hope so… it’s been such a long journey.

Fall

School starts next week and I’m desperately attempting to get everything I planned to do this summer completed before Wednesday. It’s not going to happen, but I’m giving it a try. My new bathroom is nearly finished – the part where I pay someone to do work is done. My part, not so much. Still deciding on paint color and hopefully, my father will be installing a new light fixture after labor day. He’ll appreciate that more than removing the moss from the roof. (I found out this weekend, that moss does actually have an impact on your roof, Dad… it can negate your home insurance! Or even cause them to cancel the policy! Just sayin’)

At the end of August, I always start thinking about the Augusts of my childhood. We would head up to my grandmother’s house and a flurry of activity would begin. There would be hours of canning. Pots boiling on the stove, jars spread out on every surface and steam filling the house. I’m pretty sure that everyone who could found things that had to be done outside and took all day to do them. Canning is hot, sweaty and sticky work. Of course, I was pretty much relegated to watching from a safe distance – small children and boiling water do not mix well… but I always watched to see the peach vs. pear ratio. I did not like canned peaches, but I’d eat the pears three times a day! More pear jars, meant more pears over the winter. Even better was the year my grandmother flavored/colored them! Yellow food coloring was added to those with vanilla flavoring, green food coloring was added with sprigs of mint and red food coloring to those with cinnamon. They were sooooo good!

After the canning was finished (or following weekends), the sewing started. The dining room table was cleared and my mother started laying out the patterns and cutting. As they were completed, my grandmother started sewing and my aunt did the finishing. Dresses, pants and shirts got stacked up to be ironed before being packed for the ride home. To keep me occupied, I got the scraps of fabric to play with and sewing into little purses and blankets. Can you imagine giving a four/five year old a needle and thread to play with? And yet, I never sewed my hands together or swallowed the needle.

At our family reunion, I mentioned to my grandmother my plan to pick up a box of peaches on my way home to can. She laughed and said she was so glad not to have to do that anymore! Although, the first year she didn’t can, she worried for several weeks about not having enough food to get through the winter. Not seeing those shelves full of full jars made sparked a bit of anxiety. Old habits die hard, I guess.

Funny Emails

My regular email address is pretty plain. It’s my “professional” address, as well as one for relatives because it’s easy to remember. Unfortunately, it also means that I get a lot of wrong person emails. At one point I was getting private emails from a dentist, a credit card company and someone’s boss. How crazy is that?

Last year, I started getting emails from a dance school asking me to pay for my daughter’s registration. Ordinarily, I would have put that down to another wrong email… BUT, it mentioned Lala’s real name and I had been looking into dancing schools. Had I accidentally clicked a wrong button and registered? What was going on?  And why was Lala registered in a class for 6 year olds?

You guessed it. Someone with the exact same name as me has a 6 year old daughter with the same name as Lala. And then it hit me. I had named Lala with a very common first name and a very common surnames. (Honestly, I once found a mass produced birthday card with my father’s name printed on it – the fruit did not fall far from the tree). It is easy to spell and she will never have to correct anyone on the pronunciation or spelling, but she will probably have to write down every account or id number she will ever have because there will be hundreds of others. Sorry kid, but it’s a family name. Family is more important than numbers.

Why was I reminded of this? I got an email today asking me if I wanted to change Lala’s dress order size to the size she currently wears. The thoughts started running through my mind again. Did I order a dress and not remember it? Why did I order it a size larger? What the heck is a "’minky’?

And yes, it was the dancing school again. I just hope the dentist doesn’t start up again… he was such a spammer!

Camping

We survived our camping trip. Ok, it was more fun than that. And, although it seemed like a very long weekend, it wasn’t a very long experience. I think the thing that made it seem long was the fact that Lala and the cuddler cannot go to sleep in the same room or if I am in the room. It’s just way too distracting. Eventually, I had to put them in their car seats and sit on the ground out of sight and wait for them to finally crash at around 10pm. And they were up before 7am every morning.

On the plus side, there was not so much eating rocks, dirt and pine cones this year. The kids were also much more interested in the wildlife this year too. Lala announced “Mommy! A chipmunk” every time she heard one chattering in a tree. Sadly, she was not so good at actually spotting them. They are pretty quick. We also saw lots of cows – the camp ground is surrounded by open range land, so the drive can reveal a cow/calf around any corner – even a calf drinking from it’s mommy (lots of questions). Grasshoppers were also a bit hit. We don’t have them at home (too wet), so this was the first time the kids really got into watching them hop.

Every year we go on this camping trip and it’s becoming a touchstone for us. I remember the year when Lala wasn’t walking and she went into the lake for the first time. Last year, we again spent much of our time inside the eating hall because the cuddler was in his “I’ll eat anything” stage, and couldn’t be watched closely enough to keep him from poisoning himself. Yes, he’s that good. Still is.

This year, they played in the lake, went for long walks, played in the dirt and enjoyed looking for animals. Who knows what will happen next year? Will they be ready for s’mores? (I just realized that the cuddler will be three next year… now, I’m scared. Three is way worse than two.)

In adoption news, well, there is none. Today we have another meeting with the social worker who has a nebulous job description, so maybe I will get more info at that time?

End of the Summer

It’s the time of the year where I start to get a little antsy. August will soon be over and crush of school will be here momentarily. All of the projects I planned to do this summer that haven’t been completed are now competing with projects I need to get done before school starts… all the books to read, planning, shopping for supplies, etc.

Still have to:

• mow lawn – again
• paint the cuddler’s room; having much difficulty find an appropriate grass green
• paint kitchen
• organize kitchen/pantry; it seems like I am constantly fiddling around trying to figure out where to put stuff and ending up with piles and stacks everywhere.
• have a garage sale!

Lala loved her “princess cake”. It didn’t turn out as well as I wanted, but she was happy with it and it tasted very good. That would be the important part, right? She was also showered with gifts and money. How can you go wrong with that?

Birthday Post

Today I turned 41. I am officially middle aged.

I don’t feel middle aged though. In fact, I had a conversation with a friend today who will turn 41 next month – neither of us feels “old”. In fact, we both feel like we could easily be heading off to college as freshmen next week. Although my body feels old at times, my spirit still feels like it’s 19. I wonder if I will ever feel my age? When I’m 70, will I still be thinking that hiking up Strawberry Mountain is no big deal?

I do have to admit that I have started thinking about my health. Let’s face it, I will be 57 when the cuddler graduates from high school. Over 60 when he graduates from college and I want to enjoy it. Or at least, be able to walk up the bleachers to watch the graduation. In the vein, I’ve been trying to go to the Y on a regular basis to ride a bike, it’s the only thing I can do with my slowly healing feet. I should try lap swimming sometime, but I’m just to afraid I’ll run into one of my students while in a bathing suit. Remember how weird it was to see your teacher outside of school? Now imagine him/her in a bathing suit. Tres weird.

Meanwhile, there are only a few short weeks until school starts. In fact, this week I’ll heading back for a few hours to help out a colleague. I’ve been trying to get everything I wanted to accomplish this summer completed quickly… not everything is working out in my favor, but then again, maybe there is a reason for that? Yeah. When you get old, apparently you start to believe there is some unseen force controlling the reasons why contractors never call you back. My plan is to complete painting the cuddler’s room (or at least the top half of it) tomorrow and figure out how to organize the kitchen for the six millionth time.

Happy News!

The cuddler is legally free! We’re on the final steps!