Not-So-Cultured

"Hey- just what have you been doing that makes you too busy to blog?"

Oh, you know, same old, same old.  Giving our nine-year-old Pop Rocks candy for the first time and watching him freak out.  Then laughing hysterically rather than comfort him.  

We're also finishing up our spring break, which we celebrated by discovering that the auger won't turn on our snow thrower, making the ten inches of unexpected snow we received early this morning somewhat problematic. Thankfully, there are five of us capable of scooping and shoveling, and a very nice neighbor with a fully-functioning thrower who descended upon us in our hour of need. Never fear, mint chocolate chunk cookies have been baked as payment.

Pretty.  Also wet and heavy, as temperatures were right around freezing.  But pretty.

When we weren't at the library this week, I was trying to expose our children to a little culture via the sculpture park in Des Moines.  They ignored the artwork and repeatedly rolled down the embankment.  It would seem that we just can't help but raise savages. 

Then we went home and they did science experiments, so I guess we're doing something right, however accidental.

I enjoyed the sculpture park, anyway, and will now regale you with tiny tales of my most and least favorite sculptures:  my least was the one of the naked woman, not because there was anything wrong with it, but more because our boys kept veering close to it, giggling madly while Adelaide harrumphed in eleven-year-old girl superiority.  My favorite was this one:

It reminded me of the book The Invisible Man, which in turn gave me the heebee-jeebees because man, what a weird book.

Atticus's favorite was the newest sculpture of a polka-dotted squash, which I found to be both whimsical and depressing, as we are at that time of year when I start to believe I will never see anything growing and alive outside again.  In short, I am a delight to be around.  As usual.

Damages Incurred

If you don't count the weekend, today is the final day of spring break!  Adelaide has been singing something called "The Shark Song" on repeat for the past 35 consecutive minutes, Atticus keeps bringing Caedmon to the brink of violence by pausing outside open doorways, gesturing for his younger brother to precede him and then smirking before smarmily saying, "Ladies first!" and I am wondering what it feels like to be alone.  I can't really remember.  How did I keep my sanity for a solid decade while I was staying at home with these heathens full-time?  OH, RIGHT.  I didn't.

Other spring break casualties, other than my patience:  Atticus's noggin, which is currently sporting a nasty, bruised lump behind his left ear where he attempted to vault a bench but miscalculated and instead of smoothly landing beneath the dining table instead bounced his head off the edge; Caedmon's knee, which got caught on a nail, leaving a mighty impressive wound; Caedmon's nose, which was somehow the only casualty when he fell down several stairs, bouncing his head off each step,

and I don't even know what else.  Thankfully, as the above photo shows, our children have Wolverine-like healing powers, and usually 24 hours or so are enough to take the edge off of whatever damage they've currently done to their bodies.  Also seen above is five or so months worth of sunlight withdrawal, aka we are all pale, pasty creatures right about now.  Send help.  Send spring.  Send something.

Important Pi Day Happenings

It's spring break around here, and when I woke up this morning it was cool and misty and foggy:  Perfect weather for a trip to Reiman Gardens!

The children didn't quite share my opinion- I mean, they were happy enough to go to the public garden, but didn't understand why foggy and chilly made it perfect.  I, in my more advanced years, knew that such conditions would serve the two-fold purpose of 1) keeping away any crowds, and 2) make it possible for us to pretend that we were on the English moors, or wandering through an English winter garden, or any number of things foggy and English.

And I was right, on all counts.  

We saw all of two other visitors.  This is possibly also due to the fact that in March, there's not a lot blooming in the garden- not a single thing, actually, at least outdoors- but there are still things to do and see and hills to ramble over.

We found a spiderweb, which for once I was happy to see, as our winter was mild enough that the freeze only reached a depth of six inches.  This makes me worry that we'll have a buggy spring and summer, so bring on the spiders!  As long as they stay out of our house!  And away from my hands when I'm gardening.  So bring on the shy spiders!

There were some not-so-shy red-winged blackbirds sending up a racket in the lily pond.  I was surprised at how long the kids wanted to pause and observe these.

The kaleidoscopes in the children's area is forever one of my favorite features.  We found they still have wintery plantings in the container, which created some beautiful fractal designs.

Look into my eye.

Adelaide and I also made a quick trip into the women's bathroom, not because females feel a compulsive need to travel in herds to those places, but because you never know what kind of flowers they're going to have in there.

Live daffodils!  Just what Iowans need after a cold winter (although apparently not cold enough, hmmph), and on a dreary spring day.  Keeper of the Reiman Gardens Women's Bathroom (I'm pretty positive that's an official title), thou art wise.  Strangely, the boys reported no flowers in the men's room.  I'm not sure what that means.

On the way home, Adelaide saw a sign for "Apple Pi," and after I explained to her that today was 3/14- or Pi Day- she begged to make a pie.  I told her a bunch of true things, about how I already had a million things to do this afternoon, like laundry and calling about the possibility of a new hot water heater (a tale for another day, hopefully), and packing for tomorrow's trip south (beware, thieves; the muscle's staying behind to guard the new sconces).  She cared about none of these things.  All she cared about was pie.

I ended up making a deal with her:  I would roll out the crust if she did the rest, from finding a recipe to making sure we had all the ingredients to prep work to mixing, all of it.  She chose Strawberry Pie, and then she just, like, made it.  Because yes, baby thunder thighs are oh-so-squeezable, but older kids are where it's at.

I may have dropped the ball on supper (and packing... and most of the laundry) because the outdoors and my flower beds beckoned, but who cares?  We have pie!

Yes, she's wearing different clothes.  When one of your children asks if they can shower, you don't ask questions, you just let it happen.  She was in her jammies at 3 PM, but again, who cares?  We have pie!