Connecting the Dots
One Year
Saturday, September 4th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 4 Comments
One year.
Actually, one year and 2 months.
I didn’t think a year meant that much, once we hit that year. I’m just not feeling the milestone, I said. This is still hard, it still doesn’t feel worthy of some sort of “this-is-how-we-were-meant-to-be” record. I suspect that maybe isn’t my style, anyway…that this is how we are will always be what’s important to me… But thatsnnot my point. We’ve hit our stride, I feel–as I said a few days ago, everything feels more established and more settled now than ever before. And I realized, yesterday at Rory’s annual physical, that “one year” is a big part of why.
“One year” isn’t really just some arbitrary anniversary. It’s how we, culturally, seasonally, naturally, divvy up our own lives. Every year the snow will fall, every year the days will get longer, every year the raspberries will ripen and the apples will fill the trees and the pumpkins will be ready to pick. School will start, doctor’s visits will happen, birthdays, annual festivals…we structure a million and one things around an annual calendar, and for Rory and the rest of us together, all of those things will now have happened before. Wemhave entered the great and wonderful stage where nearly everything is “just like last time.”
I don’t think you can underestimate the value of that for someone who, once, when things took a turn for the seriously different from everything that had ever before happened, found herself with a new life, family, hiiom, language and nearly every thing you can think of. Rory is a lesson who naturally leaps into new adventures, and for her to have been so overwhelmed by one really took a toll on her personality. Now, new adventures are easier to welcome because they come in the context of things that have happened before. New people may come visit, but then they will leave, and next weekend we will go to the same party we went to for Labor Day last year. There may be a new teacher, but the classroom and most of the kids and the routine will be the same. She can wear new shoes with an old pair of shorts.
That seems to make everything much better, and suddenly, really truly suddenly, everything isn’t just striding, it’s going rather smoothly. You fight less with your siblings when you have that year base to fall back on. You’re more able to come up with simpler ways to deal with moments when you can see that you will not possibly get your way. Sure, your friend has to leave, but instead of crying or getting yourself into a temper tantrum worth of trouble over it, maybe you could just insist on holding the dog so she doesn’t chase your friend’s car.
From my point of view, we’ve left the realm of “what will she do next.” At last year’s physical, our pediatrician tactfully told me a story about an adoptive parent she knew who felt like she was too hard on her child. “she really had to be, sometimes,” the doctor said, “because if a child she’d known all its life gave another child a push inbfrustration, she knew how far the kid would go next, but with the newer child, she just didn’t know, so she had to be much more responsive and careful abo ut everything.”
That turned out to be very true, and very comforting. But now, for the most part, I do know. Which in many cases doesn’t mean I can be less vigilant, but in many cases it does. I do know Rory, now. I know where she’s going and what she’s likely to do next and whether I need to head her off at the pass. It’s a good, and much easier, feeling.
Without wishing our lives away, I can see the next milestone–the moment when she’s lived longer with us than anywhere else–coming, and again, I can see why it’s not just some arbitrary marker, but a moment with real and deep resonance. These anniversaries mean something more that cakes and candles. They speak to something deeper inside us, the movement of time and seasons that binds us together.
So, in short, one year: now I get it.
Caterpillar Poop
Thursday, September 2nd, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | No Comments
It’s not a new cuss phrase. It’s what we do around here in playdates.
These are our caterpillars. We found them last Friday. They were all
the size of that tiny one. We put them in jars, because that is what
you do here in late fall; if no one in your family is not in some way
involved with the life cycle of the Monarch, then you are not having a
full Upper Valley experience.
So we put them in the jars, and they hid in the leaves, until
yesterday, when I picked up a jar, saw that monstrous one looking out
at me and screamed.
Today they were due some new leaves, so we took them out of the jars
and lined them up on the counter, watching them for any sudden moves,
and shook out the enormous amount of poop that had collected. I mean,
I guess that makes sense, but I have to say I had never, ever, once in
my whole life given a single thought to caterpillar poop.
Lily and her friend had the job of watching the largest caterpillar,
and they watched it intently. We can’t tell which end is the eyes!
Liky said, and then–it pooped!
So now we know which end has the eyes. Probably the other one.
We found the caterpillars when they were tiny–ant size–on milkweed, which grows plentifully around here, and tucked them into a couple of large jars we had sitting around with cheesecloth over the top. One of the four died, one is a crysalis now, and two are still diligently eating. I am told that once they hatch, we let them dry off, take them outside, and off they will go, to spend the winter somewhere much warmer than this.
Caterpillar Poop
Thursday, September 2nd, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 1 Comment
It’s not a new cuss phrase. It’s what we do around here in playdates.
These are our caterpillars. We found them last Friday. They were all
the size of that tiny one. We put them in jars, because that is what
you do here in late fall; if no one in your family is not in some way
involved with the life cycle of the Monarch, then you are not having a
full Upper Valley experience.
So we put them in the jars, and they hid in the leaves, until
yesterday, when I picked up a jar, saw that monstrous one looking out
at me and screamed.
Today they were due some new leaves, so we took them out of the jars
and lined them up on the counter, watching them for any sudden moves,
and shook out the enormous amount of poop that had collected. I mean,
I guess that makes sense, but I have to say I had never, ever, once in
my whole life given a single thought to caterpillar poop.
Lily and her friend had the job of watching the largest caterpillar,
and they watched it intently. We can’t tell which end is the eyes!
Liky said, and then–it pooped!
So now we know which end has the eyes. Probably the other one.
KJ Dell’Antonia
sent from my iPhone
–
Twitter.com/kjda
Back to School: Mistakes Were Made
Wednesday, September 1st, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 1 Comment
But minor ones…
Let me first say, as an aside, that Blueberry Shrub, a drink I made after reading a wildly enthusiastic description of it in the NYT magazine, tastes very much like something you would make Easter Eggs in. I don’t know why I’m surprised…I think I will try using it in salad dressing. That said, I am sitting here drinking it and having Paz flashbacks.
Mistakes: first of all, we allowed I sufficient prep time last night between dinner and bedtime. This may be because Rory and Wyatt were inspired to make lunches too, despite not needing them, and Lily chose to create four individual small sandwich quarters, each separately. Which took time. We then discovered that Sam had not filled out his form for his three favorite books read this summer (which Lily filled out in June). His choices: the assigned book, The Guiness Book of World Records and The Indispensable Calvin and Hobbes, are at least revealing of his character…
Also, Lily received a whole new school kit, if you will: backpack, matching lunchbox and change purse and water bottle and pencil bag…and two new pair of shoes. In my defense, Sam was ASKED. He wanted to use the lunchbox we were given by the hotel we stayed in on the Cape this summer. He got a new backpack last year, and he likes it. He picked pencil bags out at Staples last week. But oh, when he saw that Lily had all of those things plus new clothes and underwear, and he had only new clothes and underwear…well, I felt really, really bad. I put in a speedy and secret call to Rob at work, and he came through with a new and very spiffy water bottle, and I had very excellent labels and tags for each kid, but still. Bad, bad mother. Very bad. He does like shoes….time for a Zappos order.
And speaking of Zappos, we come to mistake three: the clogs.
The clogs.
Oh, they are so cute, the clogs. They are from Hanna Anderson. They are blue patent leather with flowers. They have straps like Mary Janes…but the have wooden heels like clogs. Now, last week saw Lily and I helping build the new “natural playground” at the school, complete with multiple balance beams (took the bark off two of them myself!). Clogs and balance beams….not a good mix. Plus, a quick perusal of the dress code revealed: no clogs! (I suspect that means the backless kind, but….) watching Lily stomp around in the slightly too large clogs, I quickly concluded that they would have to go…but they were so CUTE! So delightfully shiny! Lily and I sat down. We agreed that the clogs could stay, but they would not be school shoes. (A familiar rule, since Crocs are likewise not school shoes). We agreed that I would attempt to locate some shiny blue patent leather sneakers. And all was well. But Rory’s clogs–black leopard spots!–well, sadly, they’re going back. Better get something new before her school starts next week! Why do so many of my mistakes end at Zappos?
Finally, the fourth mistake, and at least I know I am not the only one who made this one: the special breakfast. Why did I bother? Lily was so excited she was standing in the hall in her shoes with her backpack on half an hour before we needed to go, and Sam wasn’t far behind. They did not need a special breakfast. They would have toyed with sawdust and passed on candied bacon. It just didn’t matter. Of course, a couple of hours later I was snacking on a delicious blueberry muffin made by my friend Deb fresh this morning. Her kids hadn’t touched them either.
Overall, though I have to say the morning was a success. The day was a success. I picked up a delighted Lily and waved Sam off on a playdate. And we’re very nearly back in business. Just two more kids to go…and, of course, a whole slew of activities to get rolling and babysitters to line up and structure to put in place. And by the time all that’s done, it will be Christmas.
One. More. Day.
Monday, August 30th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 1 Comment
I’m not exactly ready for school to start. It’s just that, given that it’s going to start, that the inevitable march of time will draw us inexorably onward, I would just as soon things START ALREADY. There’s this whole processing and adjusting and sorting thing coming at us like a freight train, and in my head, I’m already on it. But in reality, of course, I just have to let it spin out.
Tonight we nibbled at it. Sam and Lily will have piano every Monday from 4:30-5:30, and that started today. Piano takes place next to a wonderful playground, and will, I think, inevitably end in us out to dinner, as it did tonight. Dinner was Chinese, where they love us but are unsure what to make of us, and would like to fuss over Rory but are stymied by the fact that she doesn’t see any reason why they would.
We’ve come to realize that Rory is a total and complete patsy for reverse psychology, so much so that it’s laughable. My efforts tend to be edged towards the sarcastic (now, don’t sit here at the table where you can actually see the cartoon you’ve all begged to watch during breakfast, because that would be bad…) but Rob is totally good at it. With dinner they brought a little dish of pickled cucumber, the kind of thing, oddly, that they all like, but Rory didn’t want to try it.
Rob took a bite. “mmmm! This is good! But it’s mine. You can’t have any.”
Rory notices that Wyatt, Sam and Lily have some. “that not yours! That for sharing!”
Rob: “nope. It’s mine, all for me, and you can’t have any.”
Rory: “I want some of that!”
Rob: “No, I told you, it’s mine!
Rory begins to fake cry and Rob sighs. “ok, you can have just one bite.”
She ate half the plate and snatched the last two pieces back from the waiter when he came to clear. I can’t believe it works, and I’m not sure I can bring myself to do it without that knowing edge…but man, did it ever work! Of course, it’s risky…I can just see her calling my bluff. I think this may be Daddy’s special thing.
When Only the Voters Go Off-Message
Sunday, August 29th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 1 Comment
I don’t know, Jess, is it really our goal to “make work policy and health care better for women and families in this country”? By which I mean, yes, it’s your goal and my goal, but if by “our” in that sentence, you mean Democrats, I think you’re wrong, and even if you mean feminists, I think it’s a tough sell at the moment. It’s primary season, and the goal of the people who influence policy is to win elections. There’s no room for the pro-life liberal in the tent. She’s too dangerous; too suggestive that real thought and weighing of issues go into our collective considerations of what’s important. If we all start weighing each individual issue, where will the people who need to sum up their entire world view in a 30-second ad that also paints horns and tails on their opponents be?
This was a response to my colleague Jessica Grose on Slate’s XXFactor, where you can, of course, read the rest
Fly the Child-Free Skies
Sunday, August 29th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | No Comments
Has there ever been a less attractive moment to be a parent of small children? We’re roundly scolded for everything from taking up too much sidewalk space with our gargantuan strollers to allowing our spawn to occupy and contaminate previously adult venues. We lavish too much attention and protection on our young, hovering madly, yet we’re not actually properly caring from them, because we’re too occupied with the smartphones in our hands. We’re the current favored target for regular doses of condescension and ire, and finally, someone has come up with a survey suggesting that in one circumstance, at least, we be put in our place: the back of the plane.
You can read the rest, and a really funny response from my colleague Rachael Larimore, on Slate’s XXFactor
The Welcome Death of 3-D
Sunday, August 29th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 1 Comment
If you ask me, 3-D can’t die to soon. Slate’s Daniel Engbar is predicting the death of 3-D movies based on decreasing box office numbers for 3-D versus 2-D versions of the same movies (like Avatar and Despicable Me) and even Toy Story 3–which actually made more on 2-D screens than in 3-D. But it won’t die fast enough for me to avoid the pleas from my kids when Tangled (Disney’s version of Rapunzel) comes out in 3-D this fall. Should I put my foot down, and insist that we stick to the flat version? After all, it seems to have worked for hundreds of thousands of parents of young Buzz and Woody fans. Or can I just count on 3-D’s sliding away, and agree to sit through a few more jumpy, blurry movies before it goes?
Read more on Babble’s Strollerderby
Parents’ Hottest Google Search for the Last Weekend of Summer
Friday, August 27th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | No Comments
You could get ready for the school year by dissecting things at home.
A glance at Google trends yesterday revealed the preoccupation of plenty of parents and grade-schoolers on what is, for most of the country (me included) the last weekend before school starts, and it’s not a search for the most exciting possible way to make the most of a last few days of freedom from schedules and early mornings. Instead, it’s a reflection of our collective fears about the result of all that freedom. We love our classic summer in the United States; but we worry about it, too. Most other Western countries don’t give their kids such a long break (and very few kids are using it to work in the fields). A few schools (only about 3000) do provide year-round schooling, with two or three week long breaks spread throughout the year, but most of our kids have been out of school for for nearly three months now, and we’re just a little worried about it.
So sure, we’re taking a last trip to the swimming pool amidst all the new-lunch-box-buying and the search for the absolute coolest two-pocket folders. But we’re also worrying, and, as always, our worries are reflected back to us via the magic of Google. What were a significant number of us searching for yesterday that reminded me that no matter how unique we think we are, we really do move as a herd? Read more on Babble’s Strollerderby
Lily, about to ride pandamonium
Tuesday, August 24th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | No Comments
It twists, it spins and Dory and Sam won’t do it.
KJ Dell’Antonia
sent from my iPhone
–
Wiggled world
Tuesday, August 24th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | No Comments
KJ Dell’Antonia
sent from my iPhone
–
Friday, August 20th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 1 Comment
You can really fit a lot of groceries in this one. Then you can drive it home.
You know your grocery store is indulging in multiple tricks, nudges and persuasion to get you to spend more. We’re all educated consumers, and we’re much harder to fool with that whole Oreos on the end-of-the-aisle display, store brands in the middle thing than we once were. But some of the manipulation plays out beneath the radar: who knew the pattern on the carpet was set up to lead you deeper into the store?
Women’s Day magazine has an article on “avoiding shopping scams,” and while I wouldn’t call putting the milk or diapers at the back of the store to make sure you have to walk all the way through to get what you need (perhaps the oldest trick in the book) a “scam,” I do think it pays to remind yourself that the last thing the store wants you to do is to buy only the thing on your list. And maybe tune into the pattern on the carpet.
For my five favorite in-store tactics to get you to linger longer and open your wallet wider, I’m afraid you’ll have to click over to Strollerderby.
Sigh.
Thursday, August 19th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | Comments Off
Long day here. Lots of shuttling and shuffling, a little dose of art camp, the brilliant idea to take all kids to the beading store. All of which went fine, it was just–after all my happy post yesterday, I have to say I felt overwhelmed. The day started with me breaking yet another glass milk bottle, this time in the garage, just as we were leaving to pick up our poor carpool-ee. Got that cleaned up, forgot Sam’s bike for the playdate he was off to, yadda, yadda, all the way up to the end of the day when I tried to pick up some Indian take out for myself, ordered the wrong thing by mistake and wound up with a plate full of cold mixed fried vegetables.
Sigh.
Most of it was that the India restaurant is the place I invariably eat with friends, and really good friends, fellow writers and parents, too. The kind of people you talk about real stuff with, and not just, you know, homework and how to get the kids to help around the house. And it has been ages since I’ve done that. I’m lonely.
Plus Rob is out of town.
The 19th Amendment and the Olden Days
Thursday, August 19th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | Comments Off
Yesterday was the 90th anniversary of the 19th Amendment. You probably know what that was, but I’ll bet that’s only because Sarah Palin made some rather clever comments about ewoks in marking that date. Come on, a week ago today, how many of you would have correctly answered an open ended question like “what is the 19th amendment to the constitution?” I’m not sure I could have done it, and I’m a former lawyer and an “A” student. I wouldn’t have been alone, either–most of us think the right to vote comes from the Bill of Rights. (A majority of us also can’t identify which century the American Revolution took place in.)
Perhaps if it had been a multiple choice question: What is the 19th Amendment to the Constitution?
a. the one that says we can bear arms.
b. the one that says we can arm bears.
c. um…maybe something about Panama?
d. the one giving women the right to vote.
as long as you didn’t add a realistic sounding e, such as “the one giving black people the right to vote,” I’d have nailed that one on a quiz. But I”m ashamed to say that before yesterday, I might easily have failed to give the right answer to an open question, and if you asked it backwards—which amendment to the constitution gave women the right to vote? I know I’d have failed. And that’s shameful. 90 years. 90 years. Within the last century, during both of my grandmothers’ lifetimes, people were arguing about whether or not women should be allowed to vote. It’s astonishing. The 19th amendment should be tattoo’d on the inside of my arm, or at least on the inside of my skull. 90 years.
So of course I took advantage of this opportunity to teach my kids something important about rights, women’s issues and the importance of the franchise, right?
Well, no. Not exactly, no. Um, no.
If I had a good reason why, which I don’t, really, you’d find it here at Strollerderby.
Stride.
Wednesday, August 18th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 3 Comments
We have hit our stride.
Rory has been home for almost 14 months, and it’s time to call it good. And oh, it is such a relief.
The past year been like hitting my head against a wall, in that it’s so much better now that it’s stopped. I’ve never, ever been so glad that a year was over, and I would repeat sixth grade before I’d live through the first six months again. Of course, we had our beautiful moments. Of course, it’s always tough to see calendar pages flip, and I’m always telling myself not to “wish my life away.” But it has been a tough year, and that’s putting it mildly. And suddenly, with little fanfare, it seems to be over. Last month I posted to No Hands But Ours about how I wasn’t ready to do the squishy lovey one year post. If this month were our one year marker, I’d be more inclined, although I still resist putting a rosy haze over the changes any of us went through last year. I can’t imagine our lives without Rory now, although sometimes I still do. (I also sometimes contemplate what life would be like with Sam as only child, or with Sam and Lily as a tanned and tow-headed pair of co-conspirators, a role they took on tonight when Wyatt and Rory went off to do some twin thing in the playroom. It’s not personal. It’s just one of those things.)
Things that felt impossible six months ago, like taking all of the kids to the swimming pool without another adult, or the three youngest to a bead store for a little craft action, today manage to seem like good ideas. (Although there are some situations, like kid concerts, that I still avoid like the plague. I can’t see any possible way that would be fun.) The house is cleaner, our lives slightly more organized. We buy milk in glass returnable bottles, and the process of returning the empties no longer strikes me as the straw that might break the camel’s back. In fact, I broke two full ones the other day (it was bound to happen) and dealt with the result with far more equanimity than I would ever have expected of myself. We make plans. We look ahead. We sit at home, and I periodically actually sit down on the couch with a magazine without anyone on my lap.
On the Rory herself front, too, we’ve made one of those startling leaps. Her language suddenly shot up to a level where she feels she can talk to other people, outside people, even people she has never met (whom she really likes to tell that she is from China, and rarely fails to ask if they know Baba Mike, her foster dad). She chats with us about all sorts of things, about how she feels and what she thinks and what she did and will do today (all of which she avoided before). Lest you think it’s perfection, very few people can actually understand her, and she’s still got a weird sort of noun fatigue, with little gaps of common words simply not finding a place in her head (like sausage and soup, which she forgot yesterday). She handles the gaps so much better, though. “I don’ know what that is,” she’ll say. Tonight she turned to me from the kitchen counter and declared that she wanted to make “a nakkin.” You can have a napkin, I said, and reached for one. “NO! I wan’ make a nakkin!” Well, I said, you can make a nakkin, here’s the paper towels. “No! NO! A NAKKIN! A NAKKIN TO GO ROUND MY NECK!” I was still obtuse (she often makes these sort of napkin bibs for herself or for dolls) and she was near tears. “It’s ok,” I said. “Stop. Breathe. We’ll figure it out.” And she actually did stop, and hold back the howls of frustration I could see right on the edge, and I looked at her, and what she had, and what she was doing, and I said “oh! a necklace! You want to make a necklace with your beads!”
Which was what she wanted to do, and then sat and did, very calmly and very well, too, considering that she made the beads at art class and I never, ever thought she would get the tiny thread through the tiny holes. Of course. A nakkin. We had another, similar near breakdown a few nights ago, when we had guests (which is always tough on Rory). She wanted a tub, she kept repeating it, getting angrier and angrier and more and more determined. It was 9:30, there would be no tub and I was getting frustrated, how could i make her see that there could be no tub and not have her loose it so badly that we might as well have just had the tub, because it would take less time? And just as I was getting my stubborn reared up and ready to go, (and pretty much matching her and forcing us both into a standoff) she stopped, thought, and said, “then I have tub tomorrow?”
Well, yeah, sure. You have tub tomorrow. Situation defused by Rory, who might, at that moment, have been more mature than I was (but note how she found a way to control it, too. I think that’s ok). She’s come far, and all of a sudden, it shows. We both have. I know it was gradual, but it has a way of feeling sudden, as if someone quite quickly uprighted our household snow globe, and things were settling gently into place.
Cross-posted to No Hands But Ours, click picture at left.
Lily lost a tooth!
Wednesday, August 18th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | Comments Off
Alert the tooth fairy!!!
KJ Dell’Antonia
sent from my iPhone
–
Are Girl Power Camps Really Good for Girls?
Monday, August 16th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 1 Comment
Any mother who wasn’t at the top of the social pyramid growing up (and maybe even those who were) has meditated about what we’d like to tell our own daughters as they head into middle school and beyond. Don’t make everything a drama. Act confident, and people will be happy to be around you. Relax. Say what you mean, don’t apologize, don’t back down. We know, of course, that those aren’t lessons that can be taught by your mother, but we still hope that we’ll be the parent who really breaks through. If (when) we fail, the Girls Leadership Institute can step into the void. But should we want it to? That’s a link to what I think on Slate. Short answer: I think engineering camp would be a better choice.
Life Lessons: When a Mistake Costs the Game
Monday, August 16th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | Comments Off
If you’re a golf fan (and even if you’re not) Dustin Johnson inadvertently provided you with a great “teachable moment”during Sunday’s PGA championship. If you missed it (or just don’t do golf), Johnson was leading the field on the 18th hole when his tee shot fell slightly to the right of the fairway, into a “bunker” (that’s a sand trap) that had been “walked on, kicked and trampled by thousands of fans over the last week,” as HuffPo’s Nancy Armour put it. Johnson didn’t realize it was a bunker, and as a result, he let his club touch the ground before he hit the ball.
He then missed his putt. The result looked like a three-way playoff, until Johnson was penalized for breaking a rule in the bunker: you’re not allowed to touch the sand with your club before you hit. Johnson clearly did; and he was given a two-shot penalty (standard for this “grounding”) and shut out of the playoff. What wasn’t clear, to Johnson and to many observers, was that Johnson was in a bunker at all.
It looked like an honest mistake. It must have been an honest mistake—there’s no advantage in letting your club touch the ground before a shot in the bunker; it’s just one of those rules (and it’s one any pro golfer follows without a second thought). But Johnson didn’t get a do-over, or a second chance. He broke a rule, and he paid the price.
This kind of thing happens fairly regularly in pro sports, but it almost never happens to our kids. And that’s a shame. Here’s why we should let our kids be disappointed more than once in a while.
Worth the Late Night
Friday, August 13th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | 2 Comments
It was one of the rare goals of summer that I actually pulled off at our house: last night was the peak of the Perseid meteor showers, and my 9-year-old and I stayed up for it. In all honestly, it neared being a bust, clouds drifted overhead frequently, and he was so sleepy (I actually let him fall asleep outside, then went out and woke him at midnight for viewing) that I think he only clocked one or two meteors. But it’s already clear that he remembers it as magical.
The Perseids peaked last night, but it takes several weeks for the earth to pass through the meteor shower from the tail of the Swift-Tuttle comet, so if you’re so inclined, tonight would still be good viewing. Last night came in at about 40 “shooting stars” per hour (which meant I saw 6 or 7, and Sam probably two, but we would have done better had it been clearer). They’re best in the pre-dawn hours, so it might even be worth it to wake up rather than staying up (painful though that sounds). Tonight the meteors will be slightly fewer and far between, but your kid is still pretty much guaranteed to get at least one “shooting star” to wish on.
Read the rest on Slate’s XXFactor, or just stay up tonight and watch. Even though we didn’t see that many stars, I felt like I got my wish.
Today we rocked.
Thursday, August 12th, 2010 | Connecting the Dots | Comments Off
I have been wanting a garden gate, instead of a flap of deer fence,
all year.
KJ Dell’Antonia
sent from my iPhone
–
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