Field trip

We bounced on bubble horses.

It's my birthday! I'm celebrating by taking a minute to catch up with blogs. I've been indulging all day - my husband stayed home from work to go to Mass, and I let him chase the toddler. Then we got coffee and donut holes at the local diner and enjoyed them at the park. The big kids offered to babysit tonight, but it is the only night this week that we don't have something scheduled, so I told them all I want is someone to do the laundry, wash the dishes, and rub my feet. We'll see if it gets done!

In between end of the year awards ceremonies, field trips, field days, and band concerts, the toddler and I recently went to the local children's museum. It's a bit different than some we've visited. Instead of a play store, a fire engine, and a train room, this one had a creating space with paint and clay, and a sound and light room with relaxing mood music playing in the background and colored lights shining on sparkly sand. It had some gross motor skills play areas, a ladder house to climb, and a science station. My friend described it as an art therapy major's dissertation. With the poured cement walls and floors and open stairwells, the architecture is very modern. The spaces don't really connect in a logical way.  You wander around and then come upon something new. Oh what's this!

But LCJ LOVED it.  We tried to go back last week on a Tuesday, and it was closed. She had a meltdown in front of the door, and I had to manhandle her flopsy body back to the car. We later went to a different children's museum, quite a drive away, and the contrast was vivid. This one had the little dress up stations, a pirate ship play structure and slide, a bubble station, a water play area, a music making station, and a chicken pen.  The vibe was more of a Waldorf school play date than museum. Definitely for the under-7 set.  The toddler was absorbed, but it would have been more fun for both of us with a friend.

After visiting children's museums every place we've lived, I still have to rate the one in Indianapolis, where I grew up, as the best. First of all, it is enormous, but the layout is intuitive. Space leads on to space in a spiral design. The center of the museum is a carpeted ramp leading up the four or five floors. It has something for all ages, and the carousel at the top pleases everyone. It engages the senses and motor skills and has places to create with cultural and historical lessons tied in.  I don't remember it being as sensory overloading as the Houston museum which had lots of glowing flourescent lights, loud music, echoing chambers, and interactive computer stations, which I can do without, and which get boring quickly. We loved to visit the one in Portsmouth, Virginia, to play, especially on very hot or very cold days. It had the little town, a real plane cockpit and a real fire engine to climb on. The upstairs was mostly trains and a few physics displays. (bike and turn on a light! Balance the beach ball on the air stream! Touch the static ball!)  The price was right, and it was something to do, but I'm not sure it was actually educational.

We played with clay.

I've been feeling nostalgic lately, as the baby grows bigger, counts, sings "We're all in this together" with the nine year old, and sort of knows the alphabet song. She prays in the Mary chapel, "Hail Mary, hail Mary, hail Mary," and sings the Gloria at church to charm the old ladies.  She welcomes everybody home by asking, "How's school, Claire?" or "How's work, Daddy?" The other day, she was sent to sit in the naughty chair, and she held out her hands and asked, "Why, Daddy, why?" with enough drama to suit a soap opera director.

Meanwhile, her oldest brother is still at college. School is out, but he is staying to play in a couple rugby tournaments and work on campus. He survived his first year. Although he failed his Calculus final, he still pulled off a B in the class, his only B. He'll be home for his brother's high school graduation and his sister's eighth grade promotion.

We painted a wagon.

We made faces in the funny mirror. 

I couldn't be prouder of those two, who had to come into new schools When everyone was finishing. The senior was especially bitter and unhappy about leaving behind his old school and friends, as I have mentioned.  But yesterday we went first to a Mass for incoming Notre Dame students and their mothers, where we met some nice kids and got excited about the future. Then we went to a scholarship ceremony where he picked up $5000.  Last week he received a really nice faculty commendation from the AP government instructor, with whom he debates politics from different sides of the political spectrum.  His boss at the pizza parlor goes to our church and told us how much he loves him.  We go to another awards ceremony in a couple days at the fancy hotel for academic honor students, for both the high schoolers.  And a couple days ago, he got a call about a $5000 renewable scholarship that he won. Finally, yesterday evening we went to the confirmation party for a friend who asked him to be his sponsor for confirmation. He was greeted with high fives and cheers and immediately was subsumed into the pack of teenagers, while we mingled with grown ups we didn't really know, except the priests. But we met a lot of nice new people and were impressed with the beautiful back yard and good eats. We have a hard time believing him anymore when he pulls out a complaint about how miserable we made him when we forced  him to move.

The eighth grader also has done well, earned academic honors and has gone from being one of my shyest kids to being a socialite. Fortunately, her friends are the ones winning the mental attitude awards at the sports banquet and starting "Best Buddy" clubs that pair students with other students in special ed classes for lunches and outings. We still butt heads about hemlines and high heels (she wants wedges for the promotion ceremony), but that's to be expected when it's incredibly hard to find junior sized clothes that are a decent length without looking Amish. She's tried new sports and is keeping up in Algebra and Spanish, two classes that used to give her trouble, and is willing to read the books I push her way by Peter Kreeft and saint biographies, if I give her freedom to read the books she picks up, which are usually stories about friendships or parents or pets dying.

The other three kids are also surviving and thriving. Sports are over for the spring for everyone, finally, so we have a brief lull in our schedule, other than my online classes. I've offered to sign everyone up for one summer camp, and promised to do some crafts and visit the water park. Summer stretches ahead like a blank slate, but it will fill quickly.

I've been reading a memoir of a priest's Camino de Santiago, To The Field of Stars, for my book club. The author is Kevin Codd, I think. I'm enjoying it much more than I thought I would. It could probably be edited, but now that I've grown familiar to his voice, I look forward to the detailed evening updates of his journey. He's my new friend. Yesterday I read the section where he talked about meeting a man from Argentina who couldn't believe Fr. Kevin was American. His Spanish was too good, and he didn't seem haunted by fear and anxiety like most Americans. This Argentinian criticized the American tendency to go, go, go, and to worry about the future and to fail to balance those highly intense personality traits with any family time, get togethers and celebrations - times to relax with friends and family. The Americans are no fun and don't want anyone else to have fun either.

To a certain extent we resemble those Americans. We have a lot going on. I can't keep up with my to do list. I worry a lot about the future. But we do celebrate. We do have moments when we sit down in the evening with all the kids and at least cram in one decade (and someone rubs my feet or braids my hair). Angel food cake and salted caramel gelato await me after dinner.  I am grateful that the toddler makes me slow down and explore museums again. Although friendly companions would make the trip more fun for everyone, happy memories keep me company when I tire of building castles in the sand.

We relaxed in the sand, light, and sound room.