The Fine Art of Being in a Picture

Over the holidays, I attempted to take a picture of my mother with my kids.  I don't think I'm out of line, attempting to take a picture of my Mom.

We don't have many pictures of her, and I do like to take pictures of the kids together.  What is better than a picture of the kids with their grandmother?  She is 80 years old.  I don't know how long she is going to be with us, but I would like to have pictures of her while she is still with us and in good health.

Turns out, quite a lot is wrong with that thought.

My mother yelled at me for taking her picture.  I have two shots of her with her hand over her face, and one with, well, shall we say a "one fingered salute"? 

That bothered me no end.  All I want are some pictures of my Mom with the kids. 

Last week, I was sorting through yet another old batch of pictures that were sent to me by one of my cousins, and I found pictures from his parent's 25th wedding anniversary, held way back in 1979.
Looking through those pictures made me smile.  I looked back at pictures of my Aunts and Uncles who are all gone now.  Looking at their goofy grins, making faces, hugging their kids, and posing with their relatives brought back such joyful memories.  I couldn't help but look at the pictures of my cousins.  We were all in our teens back then.  Tall, thin, and gangly, we were quite a motly crowd.  Sporting our bell bottoms, funky hair, and odd color choices.. we thought we were the bomb.  I laughed until I cried at some of the memories those pictures stirred up.

And then, I saw it.  A picture that just stopped me dead in my tracks.  It was a picture of my mother.  The party was held in the church basement, with the pastor attending.  Standing in the middle of a circle of chairs of people was my mother, bent over and mooning the camera.  Not wanting her picture taken, she had chosen to moon the entire party.  At someone's 25th anniversary party.  What a horrible way to be remembered.  When I called my cousin to thank him for the pictures, I asked him about the picture of my mom. 

"You know that picture always bothered Mom."  he said.  "All she wanted was a picture of the entire family so that she could look back on it an smile at the memory.  And your Mom, well, what can I say?"

I apologized profusely, and he responded.  "It's not your fault, honey.  Your Mom is who she is.  It's just a shame that she doesn't want anyone to remember her for the good parts of her life."

I carried that thought with me through the week.

This week, I was taking pictures at a Girl Scout event.  I saw a friend I haven't seen in a couple of months, and after we hugged and talked, I took a picture of her. 

I now have a beautiful picture of my beautiful friend with the most amazing smile on her face.  To me, she looks beautiful.  I can't get over how happy she looks.  When I do think of her, all I see is her gentle spirit and the peace and grace on her face. 

And so, when my daughter went to take my picture today with one of our cats, I had to think twice.
My hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and I'd just finished scrubbing the bathroom.  I took a deep breath, grabbed the cat, and smiled for the picture.

I don't think it's the best picture of me, but my daughter loves it.  "It's you Mom!  Don't you see the way your eyes crinkle when you smile?  And you've got a little dimple on one side!  Oh I love that dimple!"

And it made me realize something.  It's not about how good or bad I look in the picture.  It's about the memory that the picture is for someone else.  It is how they see me, for good, or for bad.  It is up to me to be graceful about having my picture taken, and to be who I am when they take the picture.

What right do I have to take that memory away from someone else?

Mailing a Potato Chip

The annual Physics Phestival is coming up at our high school in two weeks.

The kids do all kinds of fun physics activities as part of this festival- catapulting marshmallows across the parking lot on homemade catapults, building bridges out of spaghetti, etc.

By far, the most anticipated/dreaded portion of the Physics Phestival is the mailing of a single Pringles brand potato chip.  The Pringles must arrive in one piece to the school, and it must be consumed after the package is opened.

The rules are deceivingly simple:
1) Rectangular boxes only.  No mailing envelopes, tubes, cylinders, and plastic baggies alone will be disqualified.
2) Maximum weight = 100 grams.
3) The packaging material may not be of the commercial variety.
4) The package is to be mailed through the USPS using First Class Mail.
5) The package can not have been mailed from the post office across the street from the high school.

Extra Credit will be given for:
1) The least massive successful device.
2) The successful package mailed from the greatest distance.

I've heard stories over the years of how these chips have been mailed:
One young man put his chip in a plastic baggie and took it, addressed and all to the post office across the street from the high school.  The post office then walked the chip (in it's baggie) across the street to the school.  (The reason for rules #1 and #5)

Another enterprising young person covered their chip in shellac.  Five layers of shellac.  They then put the chip in a cut-down version of the pringles container and mailed it to the school.  (Reason for the rule about having to eat the chip.)  That was also the same year another kid set their Pringles chip into one of those hard plastic blocks that look like paper weights.  (Again, now we know why the kids have to eat the chip!)

I think that the hardest part of this project is meeting the weight requirements.  Getting a package in under 100 grams (That's about 3 ounces!)  is harder than you think.  The boxes alone, with nothing in them, weigh close to 3 ounces as it is.  The key is in the packing material.

My daughter's chip was mailed out yesterday.  It came in at 99 grams.  Close, oh so very close.

I'm currently on the lookout for a smaller box.  She can earn 25 bonus points for mailing a second box, following the same rules... only... it must have LESS mass than the first box!  Challenges, challenges, challenges.

So... how would you ship a single Pringles chip? 

Happy New Year!

I've been vowing I would write this for a day now.... Funny thing, though.  When you have three kids home for the holidays, you don't often get access to your own computer!

I hope that everyone who reads this has a wonderful, joyous, and healthful new year, full of many surprises and wonderful new things. 

Our year began at my Mom's house.  My sister and I gathered there with our respective broods.  Six cousins in all, with only 6 years separating the oldest child from the youngest.  The kids are quieter now at gatherings than they used to be.  They don't play with blocks anymore.  Instead, they huddle around in the basement, playing video games and singing karaoke - and eating!

We had a wonderful lunch- a make your own fajitas bar.  Considering that one of the cousins in now a vegetarian and two have food allergies, we felt safest having all of the food separate from each other.  That way, the kids could build their own food around their own needs.  It worked really, really well!  We are going to have to do that again!

Our New Year's Eve was a little different.  We (meaning me and my husband) actually thought we were going to be alone for the first time in 18 years.  We made some tentative plans, but then decided to go ahead, stay home, and just enjoy being at home - ALONE!

All of the kids were out of the house by 7.  At 8, we got the call from our daughter.  She wanted to come home.  She had no interest in spending the night at her friends' house.

At 10, our oldest child walked back in the door.  He and his friends had been gathered at Ian's house to play Magic.   They decided they were going to have a tournament.  Problem was, when you start your tournament at 5, you're done by 10.  Several of the kids decided that they wanted to go fight the crowds at the Baltimore waterfront to see the fireworks.  Oldest child thought a warm house and a snug bed just after midnight sounded like a better option.  

Middle child stayed overnight at a friends' house.  However, when he found out yesterday morning that both his sister and brother had been home, his response was "Oh man, if I'd known they were going to be home, I wouldn't have spent the night at Scott's!  I would've been here!"

We did have a really nice time.  We rented the movie "The Help", ate popcorn, and watched the Baltimore fireworks on t.v.  We were all tuckled snug into our beds by 1 a.m.

And we ended up spending New Year's Eve together with most of our kids.  It was a truly magical evening!