Getting Ready

This past weekend was spent getting ready.
Big changes and little changes, all require a certain amount of preparation.
We have both going on at our house this month.

Although the Boychick went camping--in the rain!--with his scout troop,
the Chem Geek Princess still launched her clothing initiative so that the Boychick would be fashionably ready for school.

The CGP is the only member of the family with any fashion consciousness whatsoever.
The rest of the household believes, along with most New Mexicans, that formal means ironing your jeans and putting on a bolo tie. Left to ourselves, we'd go everywhere in jeans, flannel shirts over t-shirts and hiking boots. Not the CGP. She refuses to even wear t-shirts, taking the free ones she gets for donating her rare O negative blood in extra large to give to the Engineering Geek. The CGP dresses for dinner (she actually owns dresses!) and does not leave the house without changing into designer jeans. "No one knows that I got these, originally $120.00 MSRP, for one tenth that price!" she says with great pride. "Never buy retail!"

So Saturday evening, after the cloudburst, CGP took off for town headed for Marshall's--a local seconds outlet--to find some "halfway-decent clothes" for her "baby brother."
"High school!" she said, on her way out the door. "Fashion becomes important in high school."
"Size fourteen?" she said, tapping her cell phone impatiently. "Oh, well. I guess he is fourteen, so that should not be hard to remember."

Yesterday, while I was assembling a backpack with a binder with the Boychick's schedule inserted on the front, pencils and extra paper, the CGP spent several hours teaching her little brother the ins and outs of teen hygeine and fashion.



I doubt any other freshman boy had his new t-shirts washed and ironed with spray starch!

I doubt that any other freshman, male or female, began his high school career learning about dryer cycles and proper iron temperatures for various fabrics.

If she hadn't been so set on chemistry, I believe that the CGP could have made a great career as a county extension agent, circa 1940. The first item on her list for going to college was not an I-POD, nor study materials--it was an ironing board. When she lived in the dorm for a semester, she requested a rice cooker for her birthday.




The Boychick seemed receptive to getting ironing lessons, as well as being told how he must shower each morning--"you have boy-funk, you know," carry a comb at all times, and keep his clothing hung neatly on hangers. "You may not under any circumstances wear a shirt without washing it in between to high school," the CGP lectured. "But jeans may be reworn as long as they are clean and pressed."

"Pressed? Jeans?" the Engineering Geek said. "I never press my jeans."

"That's obvious," the CGP sniffed. "Thank goodness I am here to get the Boychick started properly!"

"Hey, Mom," the Boychick enthused. "Look at this cool Elements t-shirt! It's starched."

I wonder how long that will last? I mean, once the CGP moves out?

Samurai Baker

This weekend I celebrated another trip around the sun in fine style. One of the greatest pleasures of it being my birthday, is that I do not worry about getting or making the cake.
This year, N. made the cake for the first time, and MLC advised and took the pictures.
I was banished from the kitchen.

Here, N. can be seen mixing some the ingredients together with an electric hand mixer. He told his sister that he thinks I should receive a professional mixer--"you know, the kind with big metal bowl attached"--for some future "occasion upon which mom can expect a present."

Here, we have 'Samurai goes high tech."

For some reason I was not privy to, the young padawan decided to change tools. Remember, I was banished from the kitchen.

The hand mixer went away and the food processor came out. Maybe he likes it better because there is the possibility of using sharp implements of destruction?

Is it a new martial arts form?

Or does it represent mindful joy that the food processor works?

This one is rather fussy and if the top is not connected to the bowl just so, it refuses to go.

At any rate, we can see that the grasshopper is having a great deal of fun.

The cakes are out of oven.

Note the serene smile of accomplishment. And although no picture documents it, the dishes were also all done, and the supplies were put away. That is surely living in the moment and showing respect for all living things, including his mother.

When Bruce and I arrived home from dinner out with friends last night, I was led into the breakfast nook, and here it is...a Samurai masterpiece.

Note how old I am according to the numbers on the cake. My AS kid has either developed a wonderful sense of humor, or he has learned a fine social skill. Yes, my young apprentice, flattery will get you everywhere!

Reason number 1123 for homeschooling. At least you will live with the satisfaction that your homeschooled padawan will not only be able to cook, but clean up as well.

And no, I will not tell you exactly how many times I have been around the sun.

A woman has a right to discretion in certain matters.