Visiting Our National Parks with the Young 'Uns

There's nothing like a visit to one of our national parks to shock and awe you -- in the best way possible. 

(Note: Garden of the Gods, pictured above, is not technically a national park but was given to the city of Colorado Springs 100 years ago by a generous citizen. It feels like a national park, though, so I'm counting it.)

Capulin Volcano National Monument

Great Sand Dunes National Park, where we followed the rangers' advice and got up onto the dunes early in the morning. We had to borrow some sleds from a generous family of hikers, because really, where can you buy sleds in Austin?

The Professor took the older two all the way to the top of the dunes (a 650 ft. elevation gain), stopping along the way to sled and slide. Caroline and I made it about halfway before choosing a nice location to roll around and make mermaid sculptures. To each her own.

I'll be quite honest with you. Two weeks ago we took Ian to Six Flags Fiesta Texas to spend our free tickets. The Professor and I made the conscious decision to put on our good attitudes and have fun, despite the searing temperatures, crowds, and long lines, because we love our boy. But as I sat there in our nation's largest sandbox, surrounded by views like this ...

and this ...

... I couldn't help but think, "This is ten times funner!" 

Yes, you heard me. I said "funner."

Here's what you all absolutely need to know about visiting national parks with kids: They have these fantastic Junior Ranger programs at each park, where the kids get books, choose activities in the park to complete (from trash cleanup to nature bingo to a little history research), and are then sworn in as Junior Rangers, complete with badges, certificates, and at Garden of the Gods, even an announcement over the loudspeaker followed by applause at the Visitor Center. 

As if that weren't enough, you can buy these nifty little passports for adults and kids for keeping track of all your national parks visits. The kids were motivated enough by the Junior Ranger badges and the prospect of stamps in their passports that we had to pull over at Capulin Volcano as we made our way home through New Mexico. 

Very cool. National Park geniuses, I salute you. 

Oh, and one more thing. Take advantage of the interpretive ranger programs! We sort of dragged our tired brood to the evening program on the pinon pine tree (not exactly a topic that would make them salivate). The ranger, a grandfatherly type, talked to us for forty minutes or so and then let the kids crack upon pinon nuts with rocks. It was the best thing since the sliced Wonder Bread their mother won't buy for them. 

"I never knew trees could be so interesting!" Ian gushed as we piled back in the car. 

The Professor and I barely restrained ourselves from celebratory high-fives. 

How to Make a Manifold Sandwich

"O Lord, how manifold are Thy works!" Psalm 104:24

The psalmist was right on, of course, but I'm talking about an entirely different kind of manifold here. The kind of manifold that's found under a vehicle's hood, although I, coming from non-mechanical stock, probably couldn't find it to save my life (that's what my husband is for!). The kind of manifold that can grill your sandwich, baby.

Note: This information is especially useful when you're driving through West Texas and your dining options are limited to either PB&J's or the fare offered by some very shady-looking diners. O Chipotle, why dost thou make thyself scarce???

Step 1: Assemble ingredients: Bread (gluten-free for me) and fillings. We usually do some kind of cheese, but on this trip I had found these squeeze packets of Justin's All-Natural Chocolate Nut Butter on sale, so we used those a time or two. Hey, Justin? Whoever and wherever you are? I love you.

Step 2: Slather outsides of sandwich with butter.

The butter is the key to everything.

As in life, so also in manifold sandwiches. 


Step 3: Wrap each sandwich in tinfoil, with an optional underlayer of waxed or parchment paper.

Step 4: Give roll of tinfoil to four year old for hours of origami-making pleasure. (Yes, that includes shoes.)

Step 5: Place sandwiches on either the intake manifold or the exhaust manifold, whichever you can actually reach.

Step 6: Close hood and drive to next rest stop (or about 20 minutes).

Step 7: Remove sandwiches from manifold.

Step 8: Enjoy your grilled sandwich!

Wish You Were There

It wouldn't be overstating the case at all to say that we had a wonderful time in Colorado. I'm not even sure why we came home. Someone, please explain it to me in sentences of five monosyllabic words or fewer.

 (Getting ready to raft on Clear Creek with Colorado Rafting)

 (This is what happens when I go souvenir shopping with my in-laws (not pictured)).

If all goes well, and my kids don't monopolize my computer by playing Toontown with their neighborhood friends (BIG SELF-PITYING SIGH), my plan is to blog like a madwoman about our adventures. And when I say "madwoman," consider the above photo and know that I speak from the heart. 

Stay tuned! 

The Weekend To-Do List

1. Welcome home husband after five looooooong days away.

2. Go to film festival at Apple Store, culmination of 2-day workshop in which Ian learned to use iMovie (and subsequently turned our home into the neighborhood production studio). Cringe upon seeing his 45-second film appear on the big screen, using as a backdrop the messiest, ugliest room in our house. Retreat to lick wounds by playing with iPad on display.

3. While boys attend archery tournament, begin packing for road trip to Colorado. Check weather. Dither incessantly about how to dress for temperatures in the '60's. Be completely incapable of using  imagination to translate this alien forecast into appropriate clothing.

4. Worry about what to wear to meet grandparents in ultra-chic Aspen, since they won't approve of anything too bourgeois. Consult the wisdom of Facebook friends. Regain perspective about source of personal security. Mostly.

5. Break up approximately 61 fights between daughters, who are supposed to be helping to pack. Remind self between gritted teeth, "They ... really ... do ... love each other." Decide that at least they're comfortable expressing feelings.

6. Wish for a little less expressing of feelings.

7. Express own feelings by clutching head and wondering just how many sinus headaches it takes to change a lightbulb.

8. Splurge on pedicure at Embellish (oh so girly!) as reward to self for making it through five loooooong days of single parenting.

9. At Embellish, choose nail polish color based on its name: "Kennebunkport." Decide that connection between that beloved town and scarlet toes is tenuous at best, but go with it anyway.

10. Pick up snacks for trip. Pick up next Flavia de Luce mystery on hold at library.

11. Apologize to the Lord for not spending much time with Him this morning. Remember that it's still morning somewhere in the world and there is therefore no time like the present.

12. Before and after making dinner, pander to type-A side by cleaning house so as to come home to ... a clean house.

Wow wow wow. So productive. Every item on list checked off. And what a list it is!

But wait! There's more!

13. Wake up in morning, spring out of bed, pack last items into van, glide smoothly and promptly out door with family in tow.

Hey, you can't win every time.

Why it's Easy to Homeschool A Preschooler

In the car, Caroline (4.5) and I are discussing the water cycle, at her prompting. Here's how the discussion ended.

C: Wait, so you mean the rain that comes down goes back up to the clouds and sort of gets recycled?

Me: Yes, that's pretty much it.

C, with genuine zeal: AWESOME! So the clouds are just like giant recycling bins!

Summer Reading, Part Uno

When I was a tyke, one of summer's chief joys was the periodic library trip. Every three weeks, I could go reap a stack of twenty or more books to bring home and devour. No multiplication problems or dull reading comprehension exercises to interfere with my escape habit.

Gone are the days of The Giant Stack and hours of uninterrupted reading time, but it's still been a decent summer in my literary world. Here are a few of my favorites (or not):

The Hunger Games - This was one of the those books that kept popping up on the blogs of fellow readers, but I somehow kept putting off reading. I got the impression from its jacket blurb that it was chiefly a work of science fiction, and that's not really my genre (although hello? Which are the only two adult new releases I've seen in the past two years? Star Trek (2009) and Avatar (2010). Maybe I need to re-think my position on sci-fi.) But oh, my friends, this book is really not science fiction at all. In fact, what makes it so gripping, so deliciously page-turning and heart-racing, besides the great writing, characters, and plot, is that one can, with only minor stretching, imagine this dystopia becoming our future reality. The obsession with violence and with voyeurism (now known as "reality TV") that have characterized our culture since at least the days of the gladiators come into full bloom in The Hunger Games, and they're believable. Oh, and there's some romance. But it's not over the top.

Hurrah hurrah, this book has a sequel, Catching Fire, which I picked up at the library yesterday, and the conclusion of the trilogy will be out any day. I see late nights and "just one more chapter" dilemmas in my near future. (And that's the sound of me smacking my lips.)

Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us  - And now for some nonfiction. The premise of this book is that what worked for hundreds of years to get human beings to do stuff -- the need to survive (Motivation 1.0) followed by a system of rewards and punishments (Motivation 2.0) is becoming archaic and fails to respond to part of our makeup that makes us essentially human. That's where Motivation 3.0 comes in. Here's the author, Daniel Pink, explaining the premise: (Y'all, this is a fascinating talk -- worth your time! Here's the link in case my video embedding didn't work. )



It's made me think. What do I do because it's intrinsically satisfying, rather than externally expedient? The big joke, of course, is always that you can't put a price on full-time mother- or parent-hood because you'd have to pay a housekeeper, tutor, nanny, chauffeur, etc. But can we do this job because doing it well is its own reward? In fact, that can be applied to any job or vocation, or even one's Christian walk -- are we doing this because we want the carrot, or because we love, believe in, or get into the flow of something larger than ourselves?

Mr. Pink does make some references to the home environment -- parenting, education -- although his primary focus is on business. I'd love for him to expand on how we apply this with kids, since so much of what we do as a general culture falls into the carrot-and-stick mentality.

But right now, I'm motivated to get my child to taekwondo on time -- and then give blood for the first time ever. Gulp. Shiver. Better bring a good book.

Help for the Chronically Distracted

So every morning, my kids have this Morning List they're supposed to work through. You know -- the brushing of the teeth, the clearing of the dishes, the putting away of pajamas, etc. Basic life skills.

And still, after all these years, my Girl gets, more often than not, completely off track. It drives me wonko-wonko, as a close relative would say.

Today I tried a different approach, when I caught her lollygagging yet again.

"Darling Child. Let's imagine that the steps of your Morning List are stepping stones in a straight path across a river. On the other side is a river bank, where you can run and skip and climb trees if you desire. In other words, free time. Now, you can take two hours to cross the river and and have no time on the river bank, because we have to leave the house at a certain time. Or, you can step right off those stones and land in the river. Or, you can put one foot right in front of the other and hop, skip and jump right across that river. Whaddya think?"

Oh, my friends. It was like MAGIC. We were so, so focused on stepping over those stones to that river bank. We even stepped on the Putting-away-the-Silverware stone, and the Help Mama Dust stone. Lollygagging? The word simply vanished from our lexicon.

Now let's just see if it works tomorrow.

Oh, and by the way? My mother-in-law and I took the five cousins out to Terra Burger for lunch today, since they have a sprinkler area on their playscape.

Here's a picture I took, just so you know what I'm up against. You figure it out.

Please send psychiatric help. Thank you.