A Reprieve From Classwork

In January, I decided to return to school.  Five classes shy of finishing my Master's Degree, I was done with excuses.  I applied for readmission and continued my journey through the online world of classes.
I am working on my Master's Degree in Library Science, with the eventual hope of teaching in a School Media Center. 

The problem is that the school I am attending online is out of state.  So, once I finish this degree, I still won't be finished.  I will have to take the classes to be certified in my state, and complete my student teaching experience. 

It's funny.  I'm already a certified teacher, and I do substitute teach on a regular basis.  However, I get to take another round of the Praxis exams, and take even more method classes and student teach AGAIN....  There are times when I am just not sure it's worth the effort.

Classes are coming along.  This quarter, I'm taking a class about Academic Libraries.  What with the addition of e-Books, e-readers, and the rise of electronic databases, the library world is quickly changing.  We are seven weeks into this ten week class, and our professor had to change the reading list for this week because so much has changed since she wrote the syllabus in December. 

The learning commons at Wesley Seminary.
This is the view down to the second floor.

The best part of this class has been the visits to academic libraries in my region.  I recently visited  the library on the campus of Wesley Theological Seminary in Washington, D.C.  Oh my gosh, this library is downright beautiful.  Newly renovated, the first floor includes a beautiful learning commons and new study rooms.  Okay, I freely admit that I am a library geek.  I love to visit libraries.  I love the books, I love the musty smell, and I love the atmosphere.  This building took my breath away.  Big open spaces on the main floor, with multiple stations for laptops.  Chairs with arm tables for holding books were scattered throughout the first floor.  A lovely cafe off to the side, with a coffee pot, and tables for groups to sit and collaborate completed this serene picture. 

It almost... almost...almost.... made me want to pursue another degree, just so that I could go sit in that beautiful library.

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!

Are You Ready for Christmas?

This phrase has been repeated to me thousands of times over the last week.  I finally had enough last week and mouthed off to someone "Christmas is going to happen whether I'm ready for it or not".

Seriously, exactly what is it that we are preparing for?  The birth of the Christ child?  The celebration of the birth of the Christ child?  Or the annual gift grab that so many families engage in?

We have a birthday party at our house on Christmas day, and have ever since the birth of our first child.  Cake and ice cream.  I wanted the kids to equate Christmas with a birthday party.  Just like their annual birthday party, we have lots of family over.  Before the birthday party begins, we ice the cake, and I let the kids decorate the cake with sprinkles.  Lots of sprinkles.  When the kids were still under the age of 10, it was my contention that the sprinkles on that cake alone were enough to induce a diabetic coma.

After dinner, we always have cake and ice cream.  We put candles on the cake, and we light the candles and sing happy birthday to Jesus. 

My goal, since the beginning, has been to have the kids realize that first and foremost, Christmas is a celebration of Jesus' birth.  We do the same things at our Christmas celebration that we do at our family parties.  Lots of family, and lots of talking, lots of fun.

The presents have always been one of the last things we do.  And, we've always made a point of handing out the presents one at a time and everyone watching while each person opens a gift.  It's never been a grab.  We've never wanted the kids to race down first thing in the morning, rip the paper off, and then race off again.  Within an hour of getting up they'd ask "What do we do now?"  or worse, "I'm bored".

A few years ago, we decided to spin things a little bit more.  Just as the Wise Men hunted for the baby Jesus after his birth, we now hunt for our Christmas presents.  (Keep in mind... our children are 18, 16, and 14.  We didn't start this until the youngest was 12!)   We leave a clue out for the children to find, and we hide more clues all over town.  It's the ultimate treasure hunt.  If you've ever been geo-caching, you know what I'm talking about.  Our clues are fairly well hidden, written in rhyme, and do take a while to find.  Usually, the presents are hidden somewhere around the house or yard, but the kids do enjoy the search, and the time we spend together.

But, when I'm asked "Are you ready for Christmas?"  I am saddened.  I see people rushing, rushing, rushing, but never taking the time to stop, listen, and be thankful just for the ultimate gift that we were given so many years ago.  Christmas isn't something that's wrapped in a bag, or tied up with string. 
And it's definitely not something tangible.

Christmas is about that wonderful gift, so freely given to us all.

In these last few days before Christmas, I invite you to stop, sit down, and spend some time with your loved ones.  It doesn't matter if everything is done "just right".  What matters is that you are able to spend time together, play some games together, and make memories that will last for a lifetime.

Mom, Can You Bring?

My oldest child is a freshman in college.  He's in the midst of final exams right now.  I am to pick him up on Monday afternoon for winter break.

His last day of class was on Tuesday, so I posted a little note on his facebook page congratulating him on completing his first semester of college, and wishing him good luck on finals.  I told him, I'll see you on Monday!

Little did I know....

He called home on Tuesday night, and I asked him what classes he was taking next semester.  "Two Math classes, two Physics classes, a Computer Science class, oh, and orchestra."  he replied. 

"Sounds interesting" I said. After I hung up the phone, I looked at my husband and said "orchestra?"  We both shrugged and said nothing.

A little back story here...  the kid has been playing Viola since he was 8 years old.  He made All-County Orchestra every year since 6th grade.   And here's the truly annoying thing.... he never practiced!  He has a knack for playing.  If he'd practice, he'd be an amazing violist.

Anyway, he played his Viola for the last time in May.  He hasn't touched it since then.  I asked him in August, when he was packing up for school, if he wanted to take his Viola along with him.  "No",  he'd replied.  "I don't see playing that thing again any time soon."

I deeply sighed, but I said nothing.

So, on Tuesday night, he tells us he's signed up to take orchestra.

Thursday morning, I get a call from him.

"Hey Mom, you know how I said I was going to take orchestra in the spring?"

"Yes"

"Well, it turns out that you have to audition to get in to the orchestra.  Is there any chance you can bring me my Viola.  Like, today??"

"What?  Why?"

"Well, my audition is this afternoon.  I could borrow one of their violas, but I'd feel better if I had my own."

And that is how I found myself headed back to school to drop off his viola on a Thursday morning.  I asked him if I could just leave it at the desk at the dorm and tell them "This is for the absent minded blonde kid".  He very quickly responded "You'd have to be more specific than that, Mom."

I guess this is the mixed blessing of having a child go to school in state. 

Anyway, I am wishing the absent minded kind of blonde-ish kid good luck!

(This was originally posted in my blog "A Mom's View" in 2011)

A New Cell Phone

My old cell phone was a beloved Nokia Mural.  I've had it for years, and I loved it.  It was one of the last generation of cell phones with web access before i-Phones became an instant phenomenon.  I had used it to take pictures at events for years.  I had even downloaded holiday ringtones for Halloween and Christmas.  My favorite feature of the phone was that I could change the colors of the lights, so the phone would ring in different colors.  My phone was usually green, but sometimes orange, and sometimes purple, and sometimes blue.  My screen saver was a picture of a waterfall somewhere in the mountains, and the ring tone was gentle chimes.

Alas, all cell phones eventually die.  I'd replaced the battery twice in the last three months.  Even with the new batteries, the charge was only lasting for 4 to 5 hours at a time.  I could turn off the phone and the charge would last longer, but that didn't really help when I was expecting calls or messages from the kids.

So, yesterday I bit the bullet and invested in a new cell phone.  I wasn't thrilled with it, but the price was right.  $10.  You know, the price should have tipped me off that all was not well with that phone.  I bought the phone and paid for a two year contract.  Brought it home.. and that's when the problems began.  The charge on my new cell phone was already gone when I got home.  I charged it again, unplugged it and took it with me grocery shopping.  Wouldn't you know?  The thing shut down because it had no charge while I was driving to the grocery store.  In the 24 hours I possessed this phone, I charged it four separate times.  After the 12 hour overnight charge, it shut down once again as soon as I unplugged it.  Did I mention that it was hot?  Hot, hot, hot.  The phone felt like it had been sitting on the dashboard of my car on a hundred degree day at high noon.

I took it back to the store this morning.  It turns out that I bought the phone from an independent contractor for my cell phone company.  I took the phone to the corporate store, but I had to go back to the independent contractor in order to return it.  Thankfully, someone at the corporate store talked to me before I left, and gave the go ahead and directions to me as to what I needed to ask them to do.

I went back to the independent contractor to attempt to return the phone with it's "30 day, no hassle return policy."  Turns out it was a bit more of a hassle than they advertised.  They kept trying to get me to exchange my phone for another phone of the same model.  I'm sorry, but in my experience when one particular batch or model of electronics is defective, typically all of them are defective.  It wasn't until I pulled out the name of the person I spoke to at the corporate office that they sullenly took care of me.  Then and only then was it a no-hassle return policy.

Here's the worst part of the return... my phone got so hot that it melted the little metal squares on the back of my SIM card.  That's pretty darn hot.  We're lucky that the phone didn't catch fire while it was charging overnight.  I am honestly expecting that we'll be hearing of a house that burns to the ground sometime in the next month due to a cell phone bursting into flame while recharging.

After I left the independent retailer, I went back to the corporate store.  Half an hour later, I walked out of the store a proud new owner of an i-phone.  I had tried to resist the lure of the i-phone, but none of the little flip phones that I love can access the internet, text, take pictures, and store my music.  Even better, my photos and music are stored in the i-cloud, so I can access them again from the cloud when I get a new phone.

We've been playing with my phone all afternoon.  I think I'm more fond of this than I was of my Nokia.  I do love Nokia phones, I've used them for over 10 years now.  But... this little i-phone is a really impressive piece of electronics. 

I am very impressed by the ability I'll have to keep track of everything in one place. 

I hate to admit that I'm impressed by the i-phone.  But.... I am impressed.