How an introvert does camp

Like this:

Leave it to Mia to figure out a way to minimize human interaction at church camp. Inside her little cocoon are lots of Nancy Drew mysteries, a big box of goldfish, and a sketch pad. This is her paradise.

Thankfully, she also has wonderful friends who love her despite her hermit tendencies.

And she has a Yaya and DD who send her multiple letters a day that happen to include cold, hard cash.

 She's one happy camper.

Now you see it:

 Now you don't:

I'm not talking about the braces. I'm actually talking about the thousands of dollars for our first set of braces. Here in America, one set just doesn't cut it anymore. More is always, always better.

Her doctor decided to take this set off to "let her mouth rest for a while." Because, you know, we wouldn't want it to work too hard or it might accidentally straighten her teeth.

It looks like the crisis was averted and we are right on track for the "special phase two set of braces."

For now, all we have to worry about is a pre-adolescent, whose brain isn't close to fully developed, keeping up with a ridiculously expensive retainer that can't get too hot or too cold, can't be worn while eating or swimming, yet must, at the same time, be worn every second possible or her teeth will spontaneously morph back into their former unacceptable state.

She's just a ten-year-old livin' the dream.

Reading of late

I've read some fascinating stuff lately. In my mind, where I make notes of things I don't want to forget, I have told myself that I need to blog about the last seven books I've read. Now I can't remember what the last two are. Note to self: Taking notes in my head is not the same as actually taking notes. 

Now I need to actually write that down...

Well, Susan Cain is a genius, that's just all there is to it. If you are an introvert, or if one of your children is an introvert, or if you accidentally married an introvert you should read this book. Finally, someone who gets it (translation: me)! And all these years I just thought I was a snob....

Believing God is the latest Beth Moore that I have completed. I've now officially done all of her studies. I love them because they have daily homework. I'm also a nerd.

Krakauer's latest book in un. Real. Like, you are actually genuinely hoping that it's fiction. But, unfortunately for women, it's not.

Raise your hand if you read Still Alice and loved it. {hand raised}. This is Genova's book about Huntington's Disease. Like Alice, it's sad and eye opening and good.

My friend, Beth, told me to read this book. And lemmetellya, if Beth thinks a book is good, it's really, really good. And this one is. It was one of those that required me to neglect my children for a day or two.

 In other news, the kids loved camp:

B is for Bode and Baseball

Well, it looks like I am officially raising a jock. I do not know how this happened, yet here we are. Bode took to baseball like I took to coffee - fast and furious. 

And, I will admit that I have taken to it too. I never knew how fun it is to sit in the hot sun (AKA pouring rain), covered in dirt (AKA mud), chatting with other baseball moms. I don't even know who I am anymore.

But this kid knows exactly who he is. He's a full on bro. 

Of course he still wants his mommy to tuck him into bed at night and put band-aids on minuscule-sized scratches, but a bro nonetheless.

The time Mia made individual pizzas for her hamsters.

DTLA, hipster paradise

There are hipsters-a-plenty in downtown LA. That place is crawling with slightly dirty, yet still impossibly cool looking people. I was relieved we weren't driving an SUV (or anything) because I'm pretty sure anything other than a Prius is socially unacceptable.

We learned quickly that a restaurant isn't cool unless it has less than 3 tables and/or no seating what-so-ever.

This place was good.

Good grief, look at my giant man-hands! No wonder the hipsters recoiled at the sight of me. I thought it was just because I was old.

We couldn't resist visiting this famous establishment:

Please tell me you recognize the New Girl loft!

 This is how the hipsters spell "more than."

 We stood in line for 45 minutes to eat at this glorious place. If you're going to eat eggs, you may as well have them slutty.

 Of course there was no seating.

This crap was everywhere.

No comment (well, maybe one comment - this bottle of water cost $7):

As over-the-top as DTLA is (see how I'm abbreviating downtown Los Angeles? It's what the cool kids are doing) it was fun and relaxing and I feel I got my yearly requirement of organic foods eaten in one weekend.

In other news, my son made breakfast this morning:

It's safe to assume that nothing on that plate is organic.

When your husband offers to whisk you away to LA to watch a live table read and see the Mad Men finale with the entire cast and crew, you say yes, immediately.

So it turns out that this graduation things has its perks.

You know your husband really loves you when he is willing to take you to an event where John Hamm is present. I was beside myself. 

Mad Men has long since been one of my husband's and my favorite television series ever. The writing is genius, the sets are beautiful (why, yes, I did pay an insane amount of money for my mid-century modern couch that I won't allow my children to sit on for fear they will ruin it's mad-menesque perfection) and the acting is perfect (to look at). Case in point:

That is the cast and the creator/writer on the stage. Right there. In front of me. I died. 

Husbands are pretty great. 

Last Day

This year's last day of school was overshadowed by torrential downpours and tornadoes. So really, it was just another day in Oklahoma.

Bode loved first grade and had a mad crush on his teacher, which is turning into a theme. For her end-of-the-year- gift, he insisted on going to the Cracker Barrel to get her some of those tiny bottles of pancake syrup. No amount of arguing could talk him out of it. 

He nailed it on the "finish the famous phrase" assignment because diamonds are a girl's life.

First day:

Last day:

Mia smugly let us know that 4th graders don't have ridiculous and juvenile things like "end of the year" parties at school. She then asked me to take her to Sonic because it wasn't fair that Bode got to eat all of those treats at school and she didn't.

The best advice I can give mothers of tween-agers: Bite your tongue.

Summer break is officially here. My goal is to accomplish as little as possible. So far so good.

Marathons are, like, hard and stuff.

So the BRPE (Best Running Partner Ever) and I decided to tackle the full marathon recently. It may or may not be that I talked BRPE into running a full by convincing him that it wasn't going to be that bad and that he would totally love it. This may or may not be why I have to keep getting new running partners.

Running a marathon is like giving birth - it's so impactful and deeply meaningful that you want to share it with anyone who will listen. And also, no one else really wants to hear about it.

So, I'll spare you the gory details.

I'll just say that we finished and are better for it. I'll also say that if these three (and a hamburger stand) weren't waiting for me at the finish line I may not have crossed it.

The practical part of my brain tells me that running full marathons is kind of dumb and is eventually not going to end well for me. The other part of my brain is the part I usually listen to.

Graduation; Epic Fail Style

Nothing sums up my graduation experience better than this picture:

That's right, folks, this is all that is left after flash floods, torrential downpours, tornado warnings and power outages. The weather was so terrible that they actually canceled convocation a few minutes before it was scheduled to start, which left us no choice but to graduate ourselves.

Once all the deans of the graduate departments split (which took about 10 seconds) the students that were left decided to go up on the stage and just take care of it ourselves. Someone found the script with the list of award winners, another person pilfered through the certificates, someone else dug through the gift sacks and about ten minutes later we were done.

Graduate students are nothing if not resourceful. We have lived in survival mode for years. We know how to stir a pot on the stove while reading textbooks, we write papers in carpool lines, and for goodness sake, we don't let a little (or a lot) of life-threatening weather derail us.

So, yah, all that to say I'm done. Finished. Through. My only regret is not swiping one of those gold key necklace things.

Thankfully the weather and my graduation did not get in the way of Mia's theater performance.

I would rather watch this girl perform than just about anything in the world.

Latest Reads

I'm graduating from grad school tomorrow. This means I never have to read for an assignment again. This also means I no longer have an excuse for not cooking or cleaning.

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

However, I have to say that the last three books I read in grad school I would recommend to any parent.  

First of all, if you are raising a kid in Edmond, OK, for goodness sake read The Price of Privilege immediately. On second thought, if you are raising a kid in America, read this book. It's informative, based on quantitative and qualitative research, and it makes sense.

Teach Your Children Well is kind of a companion book to Privilege. It has a bit of overlap but it's also excellent. Anything that comes out of Madeline Levine's brain or mouth is worth listening to.

I think How Children Succeed is a great read for educators and parents of school age children. Less parenting info and more educator info, but I found it very valuable.

I'm sure I'm the last person on the planet to read this little nugget. Loved. It. It's simply wonderful. One of the most interesting autobiographical novels I have ever read.

 And this is great entertainment. Such a wonderful and surprising story.

I fully intend to read tons of trash fiction now that I'm out of school, but I keep finding myself drawn towards books about my field. Which makes me a nerd. But there is something gratifying about reading nerdy books because I choose to, not because I have to.

And also, nerds rule.