kandas-adventures

Career Conference for Girls

I spent the day on a college campus recently, attending lectures on preparing your daughter for college and encouraging an interest in the sciences.  Meanwhile my daughter and 400 other girls ages 11 - 14 were in a series of mini-workshops, introducing them to potential careers.  In one class A got to watch the dissection of a real sheep's heart.  In another she learned all about ultrasound and got to use the machine on different parts of her body to see inside.  A proclaimed it the "most fun day ever!"  We have one more day of this conference coming up, and A can't wait.

The girls were fed a pizza lunch during their program, but the parents were set free for 90 minutes to hit nearby restaurants.  I wandered over to the cafeteria, where I was surrounded by 18 - 22 year olds, nearly all plugged into some electronic device or another.  There were almost no conversations happening among the more than 100 students lounging in chairs, hunched over tables, and draped over couches -- at least no audible conversations.  There was probably a lot of IMing and Twittering going on.  

I'd packed my own lunch, but after awhile the aroma of bacon got me, and I went and bought a plate with one biscuit and 2 strips of bacon (for $3.00!) to accompany my packed lunch.  I settled in with the student newspaper and enjoyed lunch, marveling at how much college has changed since I attended 20 years ago.  From the posters hung throughout the building, there were apparently still social events and clubs and causes to rally for.  However, the kids around me seemed much more into their own worlds, and the silence was almost unnerving.  I'd expect it in the library, but the Student Center building?

The articles I was reading in the student newspaper were compelling.  I felt like I was reading the New York Times instead of a college rag.  I don't remember my student paper being so well-written, but then again I went to a community college, and this was a private university that admitted only the best of the best.  Maybe that's why they were all so quiet.  They were all studying to be scientists, engineers, or doctors, so they had a lot on their minds.

When I picked A up after the conference, she was bubbling with enthusiasm.  "When can I enroll?  I want to go here!"  Given that tuition alone was $34,000 a year, it wasn't going to be any time soon.  Six years from now she'll be heading to college, and yet the planning has to start years before that.  This conference is a good first step, I suppose, but the scariest part is how we'll pay for it.  

Will she get a full ride scholarship like her older sister?  Unlikely.  

Will we be able to afford to send her to a prestigious private university for 4 years like her dad went to?  Highly unlikely.  

Will she work summer jobs and save and start out at a more affordable community college?  That's probably more realistic.  

I was relieved to hear during one of the lectures that it is not the college your child starts at that matters, but where they graduate from.  It is perfectly acceptable to start at a community college and transfer to a university.  The speakers also stressed the importance of parents investing in their own retirement funds ahead of any college funds for children.  "You can take out a loan for school, but not for retirement," they cautioned.  

With the economy as it is, I've been shy about investing.  Stocks and mutual funds seem like high-stakes gambling to me.  Watching large, formerly profitable and stable companies, that have been around for generations, collapse into bankruptcy has been sobering.  There seem to be no safe investments anymore.  Even bonds and CD's are a joke now.

Thankfully we have 6 more years before this clown goes to college (do you like the green sticker she put on her nose?)  She has always wanted to be a doctor when she grows up.  Given her less than great grades, I felt a bit of a relief that it wasn't likely we'd be paying for med school for her, since she wouldn't get in.  However, since starting middle school she has become a lot more focused on her work, and has really strived to get high marks.  Maybe she will prove me wrong.

Her latest interest, spurred on by pimples that have appeared across her forehead, is dermatology.  She is absolutely fascinated!  Whenever there is a splinter to be pulled, a cut to bandage, or a rash on the cat's mouth, she comes running to observe.  She loves to look at moles, warts, and birthmarks.  

We'll see what the future holds...

Happy Valentine's Day 2012

 

For A, who is now in middle school, we decided she should give Valentines just to teachers & bus drivers, because it would be too awkward to give just to friends, as she is in multiple classes through the day with over 100 different kids.  For each teacher she gave either a primrose plant or a bar of chocolate with the 4x3 card photo card attached with curling ribbon.

For Little K, her cards go to the staff at her school, without any candy or flowers, since there are 50 staff: former teachers, playground supervisors, crossing guards, custodians (there are 3!), office staff, and specialist teachers (library, gym, computer, art, etc).  For classmates she opted for an inexpensive box of those little paper valentines with puppies and kittens on them, and she taped a small lollipop to each one, since she didn't want to be that ONLY kid in class who failed to give candy.  Her teacher, whom she adores, will receive a box of dark chocolate hearts, a packet of sweet pea seeds (she loves to garden), a pocket packet of floral tissues (what teacher doesn't get the sniffles?), and a special card. 

She has a party in class towards the end of the day, but I won't be there.  The parties are run by a few volunteer moms who compete to bring the most generous amount of sweets.  Last year it was an overload of cookies, cupcakes, candy, and soda, and there was no limit for the kids on what they could help themselves to (no "EITHER a cookie, OR a cupcake," it was: "take everything!")  I hate to witness that, it makes me ill watching the kids gorge themselves.  Besides, I'm working today, so I can't be there even if I wanted to.  Just as well, since chocolate is not safe when I'm around...

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

 

 

New Year 2012

We spent New Year's Eve at home, as we always have.  Many board games were played. 

We even broke out some old games the girls hadn't played in years, like this German game called Shwuppdibus with little wooden buses and people that hop on and off at bus stops and towns.  After a few more "preschool" games that were entirely chance-based, we moved on to the complex strategy games.

At 10:00 our game was interrupted by loud booms.  Our neighbor had visited the Indian Reservation and stocked up on illegal pyrotechnics, and was treating the neighborhood to some arial firework displays.  Sparklers were passed around to the all the kids, and after the show the kids ran wild from lawn to lawn in the darkness, squealing and enjoying the special treat of racing through the neighborhood long after bedtime.  by 10:30 we were back inside and back to the board game.  At 11:55 we turned on the TV to watch the firework show in Seattle, then we headed to bed.

The next morning we celebrated with scissors.  It had been almost 3 years since A's last haircut, and it was time again to donate her hair to Locks of Love.

Her new haircut is so cute!  After A's cut, my husband cut my hair, although not as severely.  I just had 2 or 3 inches off my hair, not enough to donate.  I'd cut Little K's hair a few days prior as well, though hers was just a little trim of 3 or 4 inches.  A new haircut is a great way to start a new year!

Happy New Year!

CERT firefighting

Take two dozen 11 - 14 year olds who want to be heroes.  Make them sit through hours and hours of lectures on Fire Science and safety.  Make them wait for weeks for this day to come.

 Suit them up in goggles, masks, helmets, and gloves.  Set out a dozen shiny fire extinguishers.

 Bring in the firefighters with their propane tanks and ignitors.  

Let there be flames...

And watch them fight.

A is so excited to be a part of the pilot program of Community Emergency Response Team for pre-teens.  The instructors are taking a gamble on these kids.  Challenging them to see if they can take this seriously.  Pushing them to study and practice.  Curious to see if they can handle the complexities, if they can remember the endless details, if they can perform under pressure, if they can make good decisions in the midst of chaos.

 A is a very eager student in CERT.  She's a little nervous, a little overwhelmed by all the studying, but she certainly takes it seriously and doesn't goof around like some of the kids.  With practice an persistence, I can see her going far with this volunteer organization.  If her fellow students perform well, the program will continue next year, and A will be able to assist the instructors in teaching the new kids.  When she is in high school she'll be able to mentor others even more.  Who knows where this will lead, if she keeps at it?  Maybe she'll continue where I left off...

That's me during Firefighting Academy when I was 21.  I graduated with excellent marks, but decided to continue on in college and get a degree in business instead.  The only fires I fought were controlled burns during training.  It was fun to see my daughter putting out fires today, discovering something I explored with my own sense of wonder, long ago.   

 

A Scavenger Hunt at the Mall 12th Birthday Party

What kind of birthday party do you throw for pre-teens?  The trend in our area is sleepovers -- a house full of hyper kids drinking pop and scarfing down junk food while watching movies and playing loud music through the night. Lots of squealing and tossing of pillows, with some pranks and dares mixed in.  Not much sleep, and a totally trashed house the next morning, with popcorn found in the hanging light fixtures, and puddles of soda behind the couch.  I've heard the horror stories from other parents.  I didn't want to go there.  Plus, our house is too small, yeah, that's my excuse.  No rec room or basement to banish the kids to.

So I decided to have a Scavenger Hunt at the Mall party.  What pre-teen girl doesn't like the mall?  We had 10 girls gather at our house for pizza, sliced apples (from our tree), rootbeer, hawaiian fruit drinks, and apple cider.  Pizza & beverages for 10 girls and 2 moms: $50.00.

Then we opened presents.  A got a lot of accessories, such as mittens, hats, fragrant hand sanitizers, and this wallet.  She also got 3 great games: SET, apples to apples, and Bop-it.  Rounding out the gifts was a stamp making kit, where you carve our your design into a rubbery block with sharp tools, then apply paint and stamp.

After lunch and presents, we loaded into two vehicles (one of the moms helped me run the party) and headed to the mall.  It was a Friday.  11-11-11.  Veteran's Day, so no school.  In the days previous when I'd scouted out the mall for things the girls had to find, the mall was deserted.  I forgot that there were big sales for Veteran's Day.  Even though only bankers, teachers, and government employees usually got Veteran's Day off, the mall was PACKED!  Where did all these people come from?  It took us nearly 30 minutes just to find a parking place, on the very top level of the parking garage, way off in the furthest corner!  

When we arrived at the mall we broke the girls into 2 teams and went over the rules:  No entering shops, except for the big department stores.  No running and watch out for other people.  Be polite.  Take turns and work as a team.  It's a test of observation, not a race, so don't rush or you'll miss things.

The girls each received an envelope with about 30 things to find or do as a team, and a map of the mall.  Each team had a chaperone that had a bag with money and other things, like a pair of shoes they had to take to get shined.

They had to drop off a pair of shoes to be shined, write the name of the shoeshine's name on their questionnaire, and then pick up the shoes, and pay and give a tip.

The girls were free to use the directories and maps, and could also ask at customer service.  Some of the questions they had to answer were:  "What color is the circle in the logo for the gymboree store?"  "What is the height limit for little kids visiting the play area?"  "How many wooden benches are there on the 2nd level of the mall?" and "What store has a gumball machine in their doorway? Your chaperone will give you each a quarter to get a gumball!"

One of the more complicated tasks was to go from the 2nd level of the mall, through a parking garage, across a sky bridge, and over to a movie theater, where they had to write down the names of all the films (11 of them!) playing that day.  

After about 2 hours we met back at a frozen yogurt place and compared answers.  Each team missed only 2 or 3 items.  Each girl got a frozen yogurt with 3 toppings ($45.00) and then we drove home where the parents were waiting to pick up their daughters.

Review:

I thought it was a great party, and so did A.  I spent $95.00, which was less than I would have spent to go to one of those "fun centers" with arcade games or trampolines, and about the same that I would have spent on food for a sleepover.  There were no "goodie bags," which I've always felt were unneccesary.  A said the response from her friends was good, though they probably would have enjoyed buying stuff.

One of the girls we invited had Autism and needed constant supervision and a lot of support.  I've known this girl since she was 3, and I had no trouble accomodating her.  When we invited her, her mother was so happy, because this girl is almost never invited to parties and has few friends.  Being in middle school, A is learning hard lessons about friendship.  Girls she thought were her friends are suddenly teasing and excluding her.  A is starting to worry about who she associates with, and apparently being at all friendly toward the special-needs kids is the kiss-of-death for your social life at middle school.  A was a little concerned about having this girl at her party, and what would be said at school after, but the girls we invited were some of her closest, longest-known friends, so I hoped it would be fine.  I want A to understand that friends who tease you about who your other friends are, aren't really your friends at all.

CERT: Community Emergency Response Team

A has signed on for a pilot program of CERT, or Community Emergency Response Team, for middle schoolers.  Usually the training is just for adults and older teens.  For the next 8 months she'll spend an hour a week after school learning everything from using a fire extinguisher and turning off natural gas lines after an earthquake, to administering first aid and helping with search and rescue.  At the end of the training there will be a drill, where she will be tested on everything she's learned.

This past weekend A got to participate in a drill as a volunteer "survivor," acting as a wounded person needing attention after an earthquake.  Adults who had just completed months of CERT training were brought through in small groups and were to attend to the "wounded."  Each child volunteer had a specific role to play.  A was classified as "walking wounded" and was to act alternately dazed and hysterical.  She was supposed to wander off, interrupt the responders as they tended the more gravely injured, and basically make a nuisance of herself.  A trainer stood by with a clipboard observing, and scoring the team of responders.  The trainer wanted to see one of the responders interact reassuringly toward A, bring her back to the staging area when she wandered off, and put her to work helping others.   

The teens and pre-teens really enjoy being "made up" for these drills.

The kids compare wounds before the drill begins.

Being a "walking wounded" meant that A had only "bruising" make up applied, which she was perfectly happy about.

The kids were sorted by injury and assigned to lie on color-coded tarps, which is what would be utilized in a real emergency by a CERT team.

Above the kids have been sorted and the next team of responders is just coming in.

A cracks a smile during a break in the drill.

Above, there's that moment the trainer was looking for: a responder has just retrieved A from the doorway and is talking to her while giving her a gentle pat on the back.

A spent the entire day in one area, playing her one role, over and over again, as different teams rotated through.  In other areas of the complex responders were practicing search and rescue, putting out fires, and more.  I wasn't able to stay and watch the whole thing, but I'm sure A can't wait to learn all these things and go through her own drill.  Until then she's certainly eager to sign on again as a volunteer "survivor" for the drills.

Twelve

From this in 1999...

to this in 2011...

She's 12 years old now.  How did that happen so quickly?  

She has one foot in childhood, one foot in teenagehood, and can swing rapidly between the two worlds.  Compared to the high schoolers on the school bus, she looks so young and unsure.  When she walks to the elementary with me to pick up her younger sister, she seems so mature and sophisticated.

She attended her first Middle School Dance.  She stays after school for activities and clubs.  She's joined the all-teen Girl Scout group (with girls up to age 18).  Her body is changing quickly from little girl to woman.  She still plays pretend with Playmobil and dolls, but also tries to keep up with the latest electronic games so no one teases her again for asking, "What's Angry Birds?"  She prefers "cozy clothes" to the latest fashions, but says her friends are commenting more and more on her lack of pencil-leg skin-tight low-rise jeans, and she wonders what the big deal is, and why they give her a hard time about it anyway.

Her birthday party this year is going to be a scavenger hunt at the mall.  I think I'll have fun planning it.  Should be easier than the time we had 60 kids and a magician!

Homeschool Pass

Today I turn my children back over to school.  They'll join their friends, file into the building, and six hours later they'll come shuffling out with new bits of knowledge in their brains.

Before the girls started school I seriously considered homeschooling.  I attended a homeschool support group, followed the homeschool list-servs, and read homeschool magazines.  There was even a blog or two about homeschooling back in 2003 that I kept up with.

When the girls were young I loved our unstructured days.  Sure, there were three meals and two snacks a day, nap time, reading time, a daily walk, and bedtime that was our framework, but there was also flexibility.  I could pack a lunch if we wanted to take a field trip.  The girls could nap in the car, on a blanket under a tree, in my arms, or in the stroller.  We could go to museums and events when they first opened in the morning, before the crowds came.  We could spend all day that the aquarium if we wanted to, reading all the little signs, touching everything in the touch tank, and watching our favorite animals without being hurried along to keep up with a group of other kids.

 
I admit to also liking the control I had over my daughter's experiences.  They didn't know about Barbies, they hadn't heard from peers that vegetables were "yucky," and they didn't clamor to have "the latest" in toys and fashions.  I chose their toys with care, fed them nutritious meals, and let them linger over creative projects without rushing them on to the next activity.  

As preschoolers, the girls attended a classical Montessori program a few hours a week.  Like our home life, there was some structure, but also a lot of opportunity for self direction and exploration.  If Little K wanted to sort beads for an hour she could.  If she wanted to complete a variety of tasks in quick succession, she could do that instead.  The choice was hers.

 
Once we got into the rhythm of Montessori, I considered continuing past preschool, into Montessori elementary.  Unfortunately it would have cost $10,000 a year per child, which was just too expensive for us.

When it came time for A to enter kindergarten, I was reintroduced to the elementary school my stepdaughter had attended.  It was a few blocks from our house, and just happened to be one of the best schools in the ENTIRE state.  It was worth investigating, for sure.

The school itself is a traditional public school.  There is standardized testing, a lot of time is spent transitioning them from one actitity to another, there is "busywork" that isn't necessarily educational or creative, and there is a strict schedule.  After the freedom of Montessori, it was a bit of challenge for my girls to adjust to being told what to do, when to do it, how to do it, and when to stop doing it because the clock said it was time to do something else.  But they adjusted.

As time went by I learned that the school was more than just curriculum, teachers, and national rankings.  What made the school exceptional was the same thing that made our neighborhood so wonderful: diversity.  The school was filled with children from other countries, and their parents who came into the classroom to volunteer.  There were families from India, Japan, Mexico, Germany, Korea, Russia, Cameroon, Brazil, Puerto Rico, Italy, China, Iran, Norway, Kenya, England, the Netherlands, Israel, and more.  There were dozens of languages spoken, dozens of religions practiced, and a wide range of family structures and values in the homes of students.  The school also houses a special needs program, so there are students with various challenges, both physical and mental, sitting side by side with all the other students.  My daughter Little K has developed an affinity for those in need, kids who are struggling, lonely, or have mannerisms that send the other kids running in the opposite direction.  She volunteers to sit next to and calm the child who is crying, she demands that the girl with Down Syndrome be included in the game at recess.  Would she have the opportunity to practice compassion like this, on a daily basis, if she were at home with me?  I doubt it. 

 
My daughters learned as much from their peers as they did from their teachers, and it wasn't all bad.  Yes, they learned about Barbies.  And video games, and Spongebob, and McDonalds.   But they also learned that seaweed or curry was a perfectly acceptable brown bag lunch, that respecting the teacher the way their Korean classmates did was totally cool, and that the boy who doesn't speak English but draws great illustrations can be a good friend and fun to hang out with.  

My daughters befriended children they might not have met if they were in a $10,000 a year Montessori school, or a small homeschool group.  And they've learned more than I could ever teach them.

One of the most important reasons that I don't homeschool is that I could never provide them with the wealth of experiences that they get at school.  Perhaps our school is unique, but I love that specialty educators are brought into the school to teach some subjects in depth, and very hands-on.  Above, a visiting scientist dissects a salmon, and passes the organs around on paper plates for the kids to examine and sketch.  This is something I would NOT be doing at home!

Reflecting back on A's 6 years at this elementary school I'm in awe of all the experiences she's had.  Incredible science labs, business and math made relevant, field trips with "aha!" moments, programs that built over weeks of practice into events that inspire careers. Many of them I have volunteered to be a part of, so I've seen how well they've been run.  

I have nothing against homeschooling, if it's done responsibly (as in not letting the kid just stay home and watch TV all day, and never learn to read).  If I lived in an isolated area, or where the schools were dangerous, I'm sure I could rise to the occasion and teach my daughters important and necessary life skills. And who knows, maybe in a few years online high school will be an attractive option for our family -- I know there are some amazing new programs out there for homeschoolers.

For now, I'm happy to send my children off to school.   I'm a little nervous about A heading to middle school today, but hey, by some miracle I survived a decaying, overcrowded, violence-plagued urban middle school.  She'll survive, too.  And if not, there's always homeschooling, I suppose...

 

Adventures in Medicine

We've spent a lot of our summer in doctor's offices, hospitals, and clinics.  The weather has been unusually cool and damp, so I don't feel too cheated about missing spectacular summer weather, but with September fast approaching, it's starting to hit me how much time we've spent indoors.

The summer started for me, as it so often does, with a bad cold, which turned into a 4 week case of bronchitis, which really slowed me down.  Thankfully I got fully better just in time for my husband to go into the hospital for spine surgery, and I was able to be by his side as his full-time caregiver for 3 weeks as he recovered.  Then this past weekend, on the day that my husband was able to shower by himself for the first time, I felt that tell-tale pressure in my chest, and boom, I have bronchitis again.  I may have underlying asthma.  Anyhow, this time I went straight to the clinic and started on antibiotics and an inhaler, so hopefully it won't last 4 weeks like last time. 

I was with my husband for most of the time while he was in the hospital.  I slept (not well) in a chair by his bed.  The spine and joint replacement ward that he was on was overcrowded, and the first day he was in a double room.  The person in the other bed had about 12 family members there chattering away loudly in Spanish while the television blared.  A thin curtain was all that separated us, and I was squashed up against a non-opening window in just a metal folding chair in a room that was about 85 degrees.  The hospital had been heavily promoting its joint replacement program for the last year, and given how overcrowded the ward was, I think it's time they cut the advertising budget for that department.  I was NOT happy with the hospital on that day, to say the least.  Luckily my husband was still loopy enough from the anesthetic and pain killers to not be as angry as I was.

Around 10pm the patient in the next bed went home.  An odd time for discharge, but I was celebrating!  Now there was enough room for me to have a semi-recliner chair instead of the metal folding chair!  Then the parade of interruptions began:  11:40p housekeeping comes to change sheets. 12:17am someone comes in to mop the floor. 12:54am lights on again for vital signs check. 1:22am time to change position with the help of 2 nurses. 1:48am alarm sounds on IV - bag needs replacing... on and on...no sleep here, even for the highly sedated one.   My biggest task during my husband's hospital stay (other than keeping my temper) was dealing with the staff.  He is hard of hearing, and combine that with the drugs and being surrounded by pillows in bed, and he could hardly understand a word that the nurses and aides were saying.  It didn't help that many of the nurses and aides were foreign born with soft voices and thick accents.  I had to keep reminding them to get close, look him in the eye, and not mumble directions from across the room while looking at their charts.  There was one nurse we had a really hard time communicating with, and I ended up repeating everything that was said, at a shout, so the two of them could understand each other.  

My husband had six giant screws put into his spine, and on the second day he had a really hard time.  A combination of uncontrolled pain, drug side-effects, and monstrous amounts of abdominal gas had him sweating, swearing, hallucinating, and screaming.  At one point he was singing the "Mickey Mouse Club" song, interspersed with swear words.  If he weren't in such agony it would have been funny.  By late afternoon the "Rapid Response Team" flooded the room because his heart rate went through the roof, his oxygen sats took a dive, and his eyeballs looked like they were about to pop from their sockets.  They did an EKG in the room, then decided to send him down to the first floor for a scan.  Instead of transferring him to a gurney, they transported him in his bed, which barely fit in the elevator.  With every bump as the bed hit walls and went over changes in flooring, he screamed bloody murder, and at one point he grabbed the arm of a nurse in a death-grip, probably bruising her deeply.  He was completely out of his mind.  The elevator was too small for me to fit in as well, so I took the stairs.  From in the stairwell I could hear him screaming 2 floors away.  It was awful.

After the scan the surgeon came by and assured us that the swelling was simply gas, and not a bleed.  He also changed the medications and within 2 hours my husband was sane again.  What a relief!  Two more nights and two more days in the hospital, and then my husband was discharged home to my care.

At home I'd gotten most everything ready.  A walker, a toilet topper with grab bars, a shower seat, a recliner, and more.  For the first week home he needed help with everything: sitting down, getting up, dressing, bathing, using the bathroom, even rolling over in bed was impossible without my helping him.  Every day I counted out all his medications, changed his bandages, kept him fed and hydrated, and tried to keep his spirits up.  Likely an effect of the drugs, he cycled through sweats and chills, soaking bedding several times a night, so laundry was a constant in my life.  Neighbors stopped by daily with meals, and flowers, and offers to take the girls out for adventures, for which I was so grateful. I was too busy to get cabin fever, but they were starting to go nuts from staying home day after day.

Several times a day I took my husband outside to walk.  At first he was really unsteady, and I had to support him with a gait belt, and be ready to catch him properly if he fell.  He was motivated to get off the painkillers, which I think were contributing to his dizziness, so after weaning off of those he was much more steady, and soon was walking solo, first with the walker, then with trekking poles, and finally very carefully without any support at all.  I'm so proud of his progress!

But wait, there's more!  For months we've been winding our way through the specialists at Children's Hospital for A.  Finally the day arrived when she could have a test that one of the specialists ordered.  My husband was less than a week out of the hospital, so one of our neighbors generously offered to care for him while I took A to the big Children's Hospital in Seattle.  She endured the test that was ordered, but the specialist came in during it, requested a second run, and then sent us down the hall for two more tests, which hadn't been on the original agenda.  He had seen or suspected something more...

Next up was an ultrasound.  It went on and on, the technician stroking up and down, across and back.  A loved it, said it felt like a massage, and was more than happy to lie there as long as needed.  It was a breeze compared to the painful and invasive test she'd endured earlier.

As I watched the screen, trying desperately to decipher what I was seeing, I knew something was up.  Of course the technician could say nothing about what she was looking for, but she did show A her different organs, because curious A kept asking, "Can you see my liver?  What does it look like?  Where's my spleen?"

Next up was an xray.  Thankfully we then returned to the waiting room and were told that the specialist would see us shortly.  I was so grateful to not have to go home and wait to find out what was going on, because clearly something was found that wasn't expected.  For years I've suspected something, some structural problem, something that just wasn't right.  There were lots of little things, but overall A fell within "normal" range, so the doctors put me off.  But now, in addition to these other issues, A was feeling some pain, so I was more determined to get an answer. 

Finally our turn with the specialist came.  In the room were several other doctors and nurses.  The specialist said that more tests were needed: an MRI, which had to be scheduled for another day.  However, he could tell me what he saw so far.  A had Spina Biffida Occulta, which you can see in the above xray.  Where that little red "S" is are overlapping bones which should have fused into one solid bone before she was born.  Consequently the nerves in that area may be pinched, deformed, or otherwise compromised.  Other (possibly unrelated) clinical findings are leg length discrepancy (one leg shorter than the other), and one kidney almost twice the size that it should be.

 Two weeks passed and I took A in for her MRI.  She spent 20 minutes strapped down on the platform and stuffed in the tube, as the magnet thumped loudly round and round, with intermittent buzzing.  I wasn't allowed to take photos, but I was able to sit in the room with her, about as far from her as possible.  A "halo" with a mirror was placed over her head, so as she lay there on her back, she could look up into the mirror and see a television screen at the foot of the machine.  Noise-cancelling headphones were placed on her ears and she was able to watch Disney's "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" during the proceedure.  I was so proud of her for being still and calm througout.

Now we wait.  There is team of specialists involved now, and they need to confer over all the test results.  Will there be a further diagnosis?  Treatment?  Surgery?  How will her growth spurt and puberty fit into all this?  

For now I am taking my goopy lungs back to bed in hopes of beating back this bronchitis before it takes any more out of me.  I just don't have the energy for this.  I'm supposed to be the caregiver around here, not the sick one.

Goodbye Girl Scouts?

It's summer camp season, and our local Girl Scout camp has something they call "Core Camp" where troops of girls come with their moms and leaders, and the newly trained camp staff try out their programming on the girls before real camp begins the following week.  It's a great opportunity to relive the summer camp experience with your daughter.  It's so much easier for the leader than typical troop camping because all the meals are provided, all the activities planned, and your troop doesn't have to find a trained outdoor skills specialist and a trained first aider to bring along.  Those last two are the hardest -- if you don't have two parents in your troop willing to go through all the training and get the certification, then you have to beg to borrow people from other troops, or bribe a college age Girl Scout to come along.

We almost didn't go because of a new rule that each troop needs to have 2 registered adults attending, no matter how few girls.  I was bringing my 2 daughters and 2 girls from Little K's troop, for a ratio of 1 to 4, which is better than the summer camp ratio of 1 to 8.  Before I signed up, months ago, I spoke with the camp director and said it would be just me with the four girls, and to please match us up with another troop that wanted to bring extra adults.  Often camp has to limit adults for these events, because so many want to do a "mom and me" experience, but the camp wants to keep beds available so more girls can attend.  It's not unusual to hear leaders grousing about only being able to bring 2 adults, when all the moms want to come for this easy camp out.  All the meals provided, no dishes to wash, daughter entertained by others, hot showers... what mom wouldn't want to come "camping?"

The camp director said, "No problem!"  The camp would be fully staffed, there'd be at least 2 counselors in our unit at all times, plus lots of other camp staff on site.  Two weeks before camp started, someone in the Girl Scout council office with too much time on her hands noticed that our troop had just 1 adult registered, and decided to give me a hard time.  We went back and forth, with her threatening that we couldn't come without finding a second adult, but not allowing me to make contact with any of the other troop leaders who were registered for the session.  And she wouldn't contact them on my behalf because it was my problem, not hers.

Meanwhile the camp director deferred to council, because they are her boss, but the camp unit assignments were sent out and I found that I was paired in a unit with another troop of 10 girls and 5 parents, plus 3 staff counselors.  That made 9 adults to 14 girls.  Sounds like a good ratio to me.   

Unfortunately, it wasn't good enough for the woman at council.  Supervision of MY girls was NOT the responsibility of OTHER adults, she said.  Again, it was MY problem, and I needed to find a second adult or not come.

She left one last threatening phone message for me at noon the day of camp, when check in was at 3pm.  Well I was going to camp, and someone there would have to turn us away.  I had the other two girls' moms come along to camp check-in, so they'd be there if we were asked to leave... but I wasn't going to leave without a big scene.  If some girls cried, all the better.  I was ready.

When we checked in, the camp director, who I know from years of coming to camp, welcomed us.  No problem, just like she told me months ago.  We met the 3 wonderful counselors in our unit, the other troop moms, and the other troop of girls quickly folded my 4 into their circle.  It was one big happy family, just as I knew it would be.

That woman from council who gave me such a hard time?  Surprise! She was at camp!  She was there with her own troop!  You would think, the kindly thing to do two weeks ago when she discovered we only had one adult, would have been for her to say, "I'll be there, you can stay in my unit and we'll make sure your girls can come."  But she had another agenda...

I only learned that that woman was at camp because I heard other people complaining about her.  Apparently she was using her council staff status to demand special activities for her troop that weren't part of the program that week, such as horseback riding.   So while she was so adamant about me following the rules, she was waltzing around camp forcing staff to bend the rules for her.

Luckily our paths didn't cross and I managed to avoid her.  I never did meet her, but it was amazing how many people I heard talking about her, so obviously I'm not the only one she's given trouble to.

Camp was wonderful for my 4 girls.  It was everything it should be.  As you can see from the photos, the girls enjoyed canoeing, archery, swimming, climbing, parachute games, crafts, hiking, geocaching, and far too many silly skits and songs. 

As expected in a large camp, the food was terrible.  They served chicken 3 nights in a row, and on the 3rd night I witnessed 2 girls vomiting after dinner, and at breakfast the next morning heard of several more that had lost it in the night.  Thankfully my girls and I had rejected the chicken that night and just eaten the white rice, and none of us got sick.  I guess it's not an authentic summer camp experience without a little food poisoning thrown in.

Camp was bittersweet for us because it was goodbye in a way.  After being a leader of two troops for several years, I am burned out.  My unpleasant experience with council leading up to this camp was not the first time I'd had trouble from council.  In A's troop a parent attacked the other leader and when we sought assistance from council they turned the tables on us and pretty much destroyed the troop after 5 harmonious years.  A parent was unhappy, therefore a leader must be at fault.  It didn't matter that the leaders came to council for help in the first place, or that other parents were worried about the safety of their daughters around said unhappy parent.  Again, the council person went by their rule book without looking at the big picture or trying to find a solution.  

There's also major change happening in Girl Scouts.  Councils have been consolidated, camp properties are being shut down and sold off, girls and volunteers are quitting, and the Girl Scouting program is being totally overhauled by the national organization.    

I've been following the chatter on the Girl Scout leader newsgroups, and I'm not sure I want to lead with the new programming.  In the past girls had dozens of interest and proficiency badges to choose from, but now there will be less than 20 per level.  New handbooks will cost $22.00 per girl,and as a leader you're required to have the girls complete a "Journey" book (which costs additional $7 per girl).  We tried the "Journey" book two years ago and the girls hated it.  It was busy work, a lot of writing and reading silly stories, with little practical application.  The girls said it was "like school and homework." 

Overall, Girl Scouts is pulling away from traditional pursuits, and trying to capitalize on trends and technology.  Outdoor skills are being phased out, selling cookies by text and tweet are now encouraged.  The Girl Scout store is filled with trinkets and jewelry, and gadgets and new things you're required to buy (like the Journey books) in order to earn awards.  

I've stepped down as a troop leader, but both of my daughters will remain registered independent scouts for at least another year.  Little K will attend 2 weeks of Girl Scout summer camp (sharing two counselors with 15 other girls for that 8 to 1 ratio). When the new materials come out in the fall I will look them over.  If the girls have interest, we'll try the new program.  I'll still be involved in our service unit, maintaining their website, and assisting with some events.   

Whether or not I return to camp again with my daughters remains to be seen.  I guess I have a year to find that 2nd registered Girl Scout adult who can accompany me.