Park walks

I finally charged the battery to our camera so naturally I took a billion pictures today, which was a perfectly normal day with no new announcements about deaths or horrible accidents or anything.

Benjamin's new favourite activity is pushing around stools, chairs, and other such things, and then climbing on them to add some height to his small stature. He can even pull himself onto the couch.

Sweet and Sour

On Wednesday Rachel didn't have school. It was lovely to be able to spend the day with her (for the most part; she did through a couple of minor fits but overall it was a good day). In the afternoon we went to the pool for a swim—the forecast told us that it would be cloudy for the afternoon, despite rain in the morning. Andrew had left us the van for the day and had taken his scooter to school (during a break in the rain) so we drove to the pool.

Rachel's been begging to walk to the pool lately. I'm all about walking places but, honestly, with three kids, four towels, two floaties, and a swim/diaper bag in tow, not to mention the heat, humidity, and either an obnoxiously long walk on the road (no sidewalks here) or a short walk through long tick-and-maybe-snake-infested grass under overhanging trees dangling with spiders and things, not to mention that everyone will be wet/cold/hungry/tired/whiny on the way home...when I think about it, walking is suddenly not a high priority.

A girl on our street (around the corner), who we've discovered goes to Rachel's school and is in her grade, goes swimming with her dad and we've run into them on occasion when we're out for family walks (because I love going for walks). I think she's part of the reason Rachel wants to walk to the pool so badly. But as I pointed out to Rachel, it's just that girl, her dad, and two towels. That would be a completely different trip. But our family can't seem to leave the house without packing for a week.

Anyway, we got to the pool and had a nice swim but then these scary looking clouds rolled in, so even though I assured the girls they'd just roll right on past us (forecast said so) I changed my mind and ordered everyone out of the pool. No sooner had we gotten home than did the clouds unleash their fury.

It was raining cats and dogs, thundering so loudly that it shook the house, and go so dark that the girls asked if they should get into their pyjamas—and it was only three o'clock in the afternoon. Even though we were all dripping wet we ran from the van to the house covering our heads from the rain.

I texted Andrew to tell him about the storm but he saw no evidence of it from campus. It eventually hit him, though, so he was late coming home since he waited out the storm before attempting the drive.

Right now I am tired

We've been bingeing on our museum pass lately and on Monday arranged to visit there once again. This time it was somewhat of a business matter. I was asked to be the co-room mother for Rachel's class because someone else backed out and so the trained room mother wanted to give me some information and so forth. We had planned to meet at the park after school but it was a bit soggy so we changed the location to the museum, where the kids could play inside.

I sent a note with Rachel in the morning to tell her teacher that she'd be a car rider but after waiting in line to pick her up I learned that she'd mistakenly been put on the bus anyway.

It was a moment of slight panic for me. I already hate driving, as you know, and now my plans were changed which meant that my pre-mapped route would change and it was momentarily rather stressful. In the end I just called Andrew, who thankfully was at home, and told him to pick Rachel up at the bus stop—we'd be continuing on without her.

Both Rachel and her friend were a little sad that they didn't get their playdate after school but they both handled it maturely. Her friend is having a birthday party on Friday, anyway, and Rachel's going to that (and has been looking forward to it for weeks). Her friend has a little sister who is just Miriam's age so the three of them played nicely together at the museum while I talked with the mom and Rachel sat at home and read.

We had a quick dinner when Miriam, Benjamin, and I got home and talked about the Plan of Salvation
and what it means for us in times of sorrow before heading off to Pelican's for dessert. Even though it's been less-than-hot and more-than-rainy lately (and perhaps because of that) Pelican's was giving away free kiddie cones. They have a freebie every Monday throughout the summer, though some freebies are better than others. Sometimes they'll just have an extra flavour for free (so you can choose three flavours instead of two) or they'll give you an add-on (like gummy worms...or...I don't know what else they have) but it seems like on miserable, drizzly Mondays they just start handing out free cones.

Apple core

This evening I read the most difficult book to the children—Bubble Trouble. I was tripping over my tongue the whole time and that's not only because my mind is numb, or, as I told Andrew yesterday, "My numb is mind." This book would be difficult to read under any circumstances. Let me give you a snippet:

There was such a flum-a-diddle (Mabel huddled in the middle),
Cannon Dapple left the chapel, followed by the chapel choir.
And the treble singer Abel threw an apple core at Mabel,
as the baby in the bubble bobbled up a little higher.

I had to laugh at this verse because of the apple core game Reid and his siblings played as children.

"Apple core!" one would shout.

"All the more!" another would chime in.

"Who's your friend?" the first would shout. Then a different child would be named and *SMACK* they'd be hit with an apple core. This seems to be a game they stole from Donald Applecore (see 2:50), though it seems Donald actually says Baltimore.



I don't know where Disney got the idea from but apparently "Apple core! Baltimore!" is a classic children's game from the 1900s, perhaps in use as early as 1920, though the Wikipedia page about this game has since been deleted because it was an "unnecessary article which has become trivia." Hogwash. I'm pretty sure that if we can have an extensively researched article on Wikipedia about Pat-a-Cake or a collection of skipping rope rhymes we can have a page about Apple Core! Baltimore! especially because it's not exhaustively researched. I saw plenty of people wondering about its origins but the only mention of the game on Wikipedia is on a Chip'n'Dale page. There's a better explanation of the game Yahoo than there is on Wikipedia and that just seems wrong on so many levels (even if the answerer used the deleted page as a reference (I think the full text of the article is quoted here though)).

But who knew it was actually a thing? Not me.

Anyway, the story was rather cute, though quite a challenge to read aloud. 

Gift of God

We met up with some friends at the museum again this morning and enjoyed wandering through the indoor exhibits, playing on the spaceship, flying paper airplanes, shooting stop motion films, and so forth, until the children started clamoring about going outside. So outside we went, of course, because there is even more to do outside the museum than in.

The children shot off to the playground while I moseyed over to an unclaimed bench and got ready to nurse Benjamin. I pulled out my phone for some reason—I'm not sure why because anyone who knows me knows that my phone is more often than not left neglected in my purse and that's only if I remember to take it with me in the first place. Whatever the reason, I pulled my phone out and saw that I had a new text message from Andrew.

"WHOA!" he wrote. "Sister Gillespie died in Grover. No idea how yet."

Ten words brought my entire world to a screeching halt. Around me children were climbing, jumping, screaming, banging on drums, and ringing bells while parents were scrambling after toddlers and hollering at escaped preschoolers. The world seemed to be spinning a thousand miles an hour (disclaimer: I'm not actually aware of how fast the world spins) but I was frozen in time. All I could do was stare at my phone screen while my mind filled with questions and my eyes filled with tears.

Piece by piece—truncated text by truncated text—the story came to me, while I typed my responses back with shaky hands, begging for more information.

Everyone—Grover, you see, is an annual pilgrimage for the Heisses and Gillespies alike—had gone to Goblin Valley except for Brother and Sister Gillespie. They'd gone hiking somewhere else. Somewhere remote. Sister Gillespie began to exhibit symptoms of heat exhaustion. Brother Gillespie headed out as fast as he could but it was a three hour drive to the nearest town—Boulder, UT (population 180)—to get help. A search and rescue team was organized; they recovered her body around 2:30 this morning.

Frankly, I'm still not sure I've got the story right.

Responsibility—what's that?

Responsible: Taking your children on an outing to the museum.
Irresponsible: Telling your child, "Oh, you're fine!" without realizing they sliced their toe open with a shovel.

Seriously.

We were at the dinosaur dig yesterday and Miriam, ultra fashionably sporting red ladybug socks underneath her princess sandals, ran over to me complaining that her toe hurt "really, really bad."

"What happened?" I asked her.

"I dropped the shovel on it," she explained. "Like I was trying to dig but I missed the dirt and hurt my toe."

"Oh, you're fine!" I said. "Go play."

There were no tears and appeared to be no blood...but that's only because she was wearing red socks. But it's totally true: she's fine.

Museum day

This morning we got a text from my friend Emily (we taught English in Russia together) asking if we'd like to meet her at The Museum of Life and Science. At that moment, Benjamin was naked in his high chair and Miriam was still sporting her pyjamas so I asked her how long they'd be there. She said that she'd packed a lunch so would still be there for a few more hours. I hurried the kids along and got out the door in record time.

The museum was fairly busy but I managed to find a parking spot in the overflow parking lot and get this: I parked the car, by myself, beside another car. Miriam told me I did a good job.

We had a fun time playing with Emily's kids—at the butterfly house and the dinosaur dig—and stayed a little longer after they left (since we'd arrived quite a bit after they did). Emily and I counted up all the kids our "Russia girls" have brought into this world since we were there ten years ago: Staci (5), Me (3), Esther (2), Emily (2), Tiffany (2), Stephanie (2), Natalie (1), Michelle (0). Esther and Natalie are both expecting as well. That'll be nineteen kids in ten years between eight of us. Pretty crazy!

Miriam wanted to see the lemurs, which meant we had to walk through the entire "Into the Wild" exhibit. I love that walk though—with winding boardwalks over a somewhat natural wetland (it used to be a quarry but has since gone feral, which most things out here will do if you turn your back on them). It's beautiful!

Melancholy

So here I sit, just waiting for my husband to be finished working on his program. He was so stressed out about it yesterday. He'd gotten stuck and was brooding about it the entire day. I could feel the stress emanating from him. It was downright miserable.

I was exhausted and could tell he was, too, so suggested we turn in early. He agreed, brushed his teeth, and collapsed into bed. Melancholy. Morose. Distant. Depressed.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," he sighed. "I just can't get my stupid code to work. No matter what I do every article turns up neutral when I know that's not true, but I just can't figure out how to sort them other than by hand and there are thousands of articles and I just can't do it..."

That, of course, is just my interpretation of what he said. He actually included a lot of computer gibberish that went right over my head.

"I have no idea how to help you with that," I said. "But keep telling me about it and maybe it will help you feel better."

All about swimming

Miriam's been surprisingly timid about the water this summer but today we made a huge breakthrough and Miriam—outfitted with a floaty and goggles—can now paddle around the pool like a pro. It was rather a shock to everyone, including herself, when she finally pushed away from the ledge and went for an actual swim.

This and That

We had a lot of fun at the pool this evening but unfortunately it doesn't seem like a good time to upload the pictures I took. The internet is being ridiculously slow. So instead, I'll share some random pictures from the yesterday and today with a little bit of dribble about them, of course.

Here's Rachel all ready for school on trapezoid day—the last of the colour/shape days for this school year.