By car, elephant, and rickshaw

To be honest, I would have nixed the Lumbini part of the trip. We are facing down our last year in Nepal, and finally willing to overcome our “but Safaris in Africa are so much better” snobbery to go down to the big national park here and attempt to see some animals.

And of course, we can’t just hop on the 15 minute plane ride, see the park, and come home. We have to drive the 6-hour road, because the Subaru would have been sad if it didn't get to go. Despite the fact that the road was so bumpy it actually unscrewed the bolts in the rooftop rack.

Chitwan National Park was great. We stayed at Sapana Village Lodge and really enjoyed it. We have been told by other USAID-ers that they treat their elephants well. After being there, I am not sure this is true. However, we were already there and went on elephant-back safari. The only choice, actually, as the roads such as they are were far too muddy for vehicular transport.


Aside from the sore muscles obtained from making sure hot and wiggly toddler daughter didn’t wiggle right off my lap and fall to her death in a river or mud swamp, we had a nice time. And we didn’t see any of the big stuff (tigers or rhino), but we saw little stuff (monkeys, deer, wild chickens, peacocks), and it was fun.

Then we drove to Lumbini, the famed birthplace of Buddha (haven’t you heard of it?). One of Nepal’s treasures. However, our GPS map isn’t actually that great and didn’t actually have the spot searchable on the map. Sooo, we just kind of went and hoped for the best. Despite being worried (more than once) that we had crossed into India, we did make it, due to my spouse’s uncanny processing and memory of maps.

Toddlers in stupas

We found our hotel (pricey, not nearly as cool as Sapana), grabbed some dahl baht at a local restaurant (hot and sweaty, but friendly and yum yum), and made our way to the historic site. The site is a huge complex, several square miles, that contains a museum, visitor’s center, a Peace Pagoda, representative Buddhist temples/monasteries from many different countries (a la Disney World), an eternal flame of peace, several historic sites, and of course the site of Buddha’s birth. So despite not being extremely into Buddhism ourselves, it sounded interesting and fun.


We arrived, paid our tickets, got a map, and starting planning our visit. Shall we start at the visitor's center? Oh, that's the shell of a building out yonder still going up. How about that museum? Another pile of bricks beckons! So forget the informational stuff, let's just go see the global array of peace pagodas.


So we pile onto 2 bicycle rickshaws, because these lovely buildings are really quite spread out, and it's hot, and neither the 1-yr-old nor the 9-yr-old are acting too excited about this. We hop over to the international temples (and by "hop," I mean the two older men commanding our rickshaws tug and pull us over bumps and walkways for about 5 minutes). The setting was really quite nice, the temples surrounding a man-made lake or canal. We stopped at the Tibetan temple first. The thing about temples and monasteries is, you can't wear shoes. And the thing about concrete is, it's super hot at 2PM on a 90+ degree summer day. Luckily, the Tibetans provided us with a water pump right inside the courtyard, where we and others cooled their toes, heads, etc. The other thing about temples and monasteries is, we've seen a bunch. Especially Tibetan ones. It was nice and cool inside, but we soon ran our way over the burning-coal pavement and made our way to the next one, which looked a lot like the first one. So we decided to rickshaw-it over to the next cluster of monasteries, where we'd find the Australian and Korean monasteries. Those might be different, eh? Yes! They weren't even complete! In fact more than half of the monasteries were under construction.

So... we drag our super-excited kids on to Buddha's birthplace! We again divested ourselves of shoes (but enjoyed grass in the courtyard!); we went through a security check

Worshippers at Buddha's birthplace

and found a pleasant and green area filled with tourists and worshippers. Lucky us, we made this trip during Dashain, a very important Buddhist holiday. The kids enjoyed watching the fish in the sacred pond while the husband and I enjoyed dragging the kids away from the pond to see the very spot that Buddha was thought to have been born (foundations/ruins abound, I love that stuff), and we all listened to the prayers and music being offered up while steeling ourselves against the heebie-jeebies due to the assault of non-Christianity on our very Christian selves (that's another story, but this stuff is real, folks).

After a long hot day, a nice tip to our rickshaw drivers, and a night in the hotel with the air-con blasting, we loaded up in the car for the trip home. We would have stayed longer... but there really wasn't more to see.  We drove out of the historic area, through fields empty of workers and misty in the morning sun, observing folks decked out in their finest as they went on their way to Dashain celebrations by foot, bicycle, and truckload. We were just marveling at what a great time to drive this was, as we worked our way through the town with zero traffic and uncharacteristically calm streets, when the 1-yr-old blew her cookies (and morning porridge and mostly milk) All. Over. The. Car. Backseat, carseat, windows, dripping in regurgitated baby milk.

A moment of shocked silence ensued. Then a baby wail. Then Husband swerved the car to the side of the road (yay for no traffic!) and mama jumped into action, pulling baby out of the carseat, trying to control regurg-milk drip in the car, and immediately noticing the street-side water pump.

This may be one of the few times anyone has ever given thanks for the lack of central water.

The infamous water pump

Since it was a holiday, no one was at the pump. We did draw a few onlookers from the nearby shops and homes (hehe, hey there, how'ya doin'), but I stripped that baby down and cleaned her and her clothing in freezing cold street pump water. (That kid is a really good sport). Husband pulled out the carseat and did the same. As for the car itself, lets suffice it to say some previously worn clothing items were sacrificed, and we had to keep the windows down as much as possible on the way home.

Chitwan was neat to see. Lumbini was one of those not-really-successful trips that I would have said was too much trouble with the family, but thanks to my husband's unquenchable wanderlust will be fondly remembered with laughs, groans, and "remember whens" for a long time.

This happened today

There are many amazing things that happen in the international schools. Here is one.

Yep, that's my animal-crazy, environmentally-minded kid. And that is Jane Goodall.

I keep telling the kiddo that she's doing so much in her life that many people dream of doing (whether she wants to or not), but today she believed me.

On Doing Something

One of the occastional (or more often, if you allow) irritants of being a "trailing spouse" is the oft-heard question, "What do you do?"

Fellow trailing spouses tend to be fairly sensitive on this issue, as compared with the average person who is employed and/or single and/or not posted abroad in any capacity. Sometimes you can even judge their own level of frustration if they offer a different phrasing, "What did you do?" Because, clearly, whatever your market worth was before you started this whole expat thing, it is different now.

And, quite honestly, at least I have the kids/family thing I can fall back on.

One of the adorable little guys available at Beguiled
Child. Hand knit by a women's coop in Bangladesh.

Regardless, especially for those of us who face a consistent stream of changing countries, the inevitable process of having to define (or defend) yourself does take a toll. There is the "eh" phase, where you are busy with whatever personal issues, goals, or travel you may have, and the question doesn't bother you. There is the "formerly" phase, where you talk about things that have kept you busy, even if they aren't currently operational. There is the, um, "go away" phase, where you have been looking and looking for some kind of gainful employment and you do not get hired; one's answer during this phase tends to be said tritely with an entirely fake smile. Then there is the blessed "answer" phase, if you are so lucky, where you get to say that either you have a job doing xyz or you are waiting on your clearance for abc job at the embassy.

Personally, it's been a little on-and-off for me with the consulting and whatnot. This fall, as I was sorting through all the edifying, beautifully made, creatively inspiring toys I would love to put in my shopping cart for the kids for Christmas, I eventually came to the conclusion that I should start my own online shop. Turns out, this is entirely doable via an online shopping website platform partnered with a US-based fulfillment warehouse.

So, look for it - coming soon! Beguiled Child, Enchanting Toys. A place to find toys both constructive and cozy, no batteries, screens, or cords allowed.

A Hike in the Hills

What some of us may call “mountains” are mere “hills” in Nepal. A mountain is something that towers above the clouds. Recently we joined friends for a hair-raising drive to a lovely hilly getaway at Namobuddha, just on the rim outside the city. Supposedly, there is a view of actual mountains from the hilltop resort, but we did not see any evidence of this. In late April in Kathmandu, after a long dusty winter where fires abound for warmth and heat, and before the monsoons have started to knock down factory and vehicle exhaust, everything is hazy.

Partiers wave an enthusiastic goodbye,
the kids can't get out quick enough.

Regardless, we enjoyed a lovely locally grown lunch while the kids pecked at their food and played on the hillside, and then took a hike over to one of the ubiquitous hilltop monasteries. Remarkable notes on the walk included, 1) actual trees in what could rightly be termed a forest, 2) a number of Nepali picnic-parties along the way, rife with loud music, local beer, and revelry (with one of such a giddy mood that all of us – especially the reluctant kids – were pulled in to participate in dancing / clapping / cheering), and 3) a high vantage point over a hazy valley that made one really, really wish the air would clear because the view must surely be spectacular.

Here are the we hikers as we set out.

Here they are again, at our destination. 

Cute-isms

This one's for you, Mom.

Amidst the overwhelming number of details to take care of in getting ready for the international move, a few weeks of life without "stuff", and a vacation in Paris on the way to home leave, the kiddo has come up with a few questions. Most of them revolve around the schedule, which is complicated at best. But some of them reflect how truly she is a third culture kid.

For example, when on the phone with her grandparents, who have talked about taking her fishing or panning for gold in the lakes and rivers, she asks,
"Are there any hippos there? What about crocodiles?"

A wise question from her usual milieu.

This past weekend we were doing one of our "why didn't we buy this stuff before" shopping trips, and we went right through a big fancy new Nairobi interchange, which happened to have a cell tower  in the middle (a REAL one, not a pole with guide wires). The child asks,
"Wait, are we in Paris already?"

When we expressed confusion, she points out the cell tower and says it looks like the Eiffel Tower (it does, a bit), and notes, "It must have been that this road was so smooth I forgot we were still in Kenya!"

Home is where the stuff doesn't matter

So, my daughter being an only child and a sweet but rather indulged one, is really into this phrase that - upon turning 6 - seemed to go from the occasional thing tossed out there to one of the most frequent phrases that pass her lips. The phrase is, "I know." But not just "I know"... it's "I know" and is usually followed by the enunciation of "Mommy" or "Daddy" with an undertone of sincere and deeply felt irritation.

Most days, I can handle one or two of these, but after that nothing is more guaranteed to turn said Mommy into a fire-breathing monster with fangs and smoke coming out her ears.

The other day, however, it actually made me smile.

We were doing the kiddo's hair before school, and the key element of the ritual on that particular day was using the new sparkly pony tail keeper that she picked out of the classroom treasure box as a reward a couple days before. She was sitting, holding the pony tail keeper, while I wrestled with getting the hairbrush through her hair, and the conversation went like this:

Her: You know, sometimes, when there is something you really want, once you get it, it's not such a big deal any more.

Me: Like things from the treasure box?

Her: Yeah, like I really wanted this hair band, and now that I have it I'm like, eh, it's OK, but it's not such a big deal.

Me (practically jumping up and down to have such a teachable moment presenting itself): Well, we all like to get "stuff", but having things is not what makes us happy--

Her (interrupting): I know, Mommy.

Me (not deterred): Sometimes we feel like if we could just have this, or have what someone else has, we would be happy, but it's not about the THINGS we have--

 Her: I know, Mommy.

 Me: --it's about being content with what God has given us, because we know He loves us--

 Her: I know, I know, I know, Mommy!!

Me: OK.

Madam Secretary

If a winning smile, long sleek hair, fashionable use of the color black, and a love of travel is what it takes to be Secretary of State, we may have a future cabinet member in the family.

Secretary Clinton and some great kids, August 5, 2012.

Jambo

For the first time in her memory (and indeed, ever), our girl has gone back to school. She has never known the comfort of going back to a place that she knows and is comfortable, and where there are friends and teachers she missed over the break. The playground this morning was a chorus of little-kid hello's and hugs, with random teachers being nearly knocked over with kid-enthusiasm.

My girl is over the moon with her new classroom (freshly built!) with its lovely view and smiling young teacher, as well as more than a half-dozen faces that were already dear to her. The picture here is of the all-school first day assembly - the high school band there on the tennis court as the "all-school" size has outgrown the auditorium.

And, how did I get this picture, you ask? It is true, I myself am there picking up my kid. After many difficult arrangements at the end of last term and a stint of 8-to-5 workdays including a few weekends, I did a great big head slap and decided to cut down my work hours. How hard was that?

Kwaheri

After a month of soccer, swimming, playing, swinging, animal-viewing, cooking, journaling, reading, pretending, camping, dancing, and partying, we have said goodbye to my dear friend and her two kids. Our kids have always gotten along very well, but I figured a month of together time would truly test the limits. Not true! Or rather, there didn't seem to be any limits. So our stand-in family has gone back to deal with reality, and we stay here suspended in this somewhere between the clouds and the African plains. We are sad they left, but sooo happy they came.

The 3 Musketeers watching Kenyan dances.

Turning Six!

Avocados: almost free. Blueberries: gasp! expensive. Birthday tradition lemon cake with avocado frosting: priceless.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012 - our wee girl turns six today! Sunday we decorated the front yard and steps with glittery hanging stars, put stick-on flowers down the hallway and into the living room, hung balloons and ribbons, and had the neighborhood girls over for fairy house painting, fairy hunting, and other sparkly things (dubbed by my daughter as her fake birthday party).

The best part was having my friend and her kids here. Not only did my friend skip lunch with me in the mad rush to get everything ready, but I love how her kids love! They made the party day really special, and continue to help the kiddo celebrate the "real" birthday today with grace and giggles.

Happy Anniversary to Us

Yesterday was our 9th wedding anniversary. At times I can scarcely believe how long it's been, but at other times I think back (5 years in VA, 3 other states, Virginia again, now Kenya)... eh, yeah, we've had some time to go through some stuff. Andrew brought me home 18 wonderful roses.

I also can't believe it's the end of the third week of my dear friend and her two kids visiting us. Only one more week (sniff!). This week, after a return from weekend camping and safari'ing, has been a whirl. Much like last week, we are taking kids to sports camp, applying sunscreen, and going to the store for endless amounts of apples, carrots and yogurt, and somehow getting in a nearly-full day's work as well.

The wrench in this week's plan was that said dear friend got laid low, very low, by what I decided was Campylobacter (darn food on the camping trip!).  I succumbed to a lesser degree, but it's enough to make me wonder whether I'll be able to eat our lovely anniversary dinner. Yes, we are going OUT tonight for dinner, leaving the child in the blissful care of a mostly-functional friend with her two awesome buddies.

Snorts under the Stars

Doing a little catching up, here, but last month we finally went camping! It was big on my list to be out under the big sky far away from city civilization. When school got out we drove up to Lake Baringo, one of  several lakes that dot the length of the Rift Valley in Kenya. We took a boat ride, which revealed birds and crocs while we floated over submerged lake islands - there had been a lot of rain. We didn't have to venture further than the shore edge, a few dozen feet from our campsite, to see the hippos.

Yes, this is where we camped. The closest hippo was just to the right of the sign... but too much in the bushes to get a good picture.

After dinner at the covered-patio restaurant (gotta love roughing it in Kenya!), we gazed at the stars, demurred on the campfire, and crawled into our sleeping bags as the deep and rumbling hippo snuffles and snorts carried us of to a 9PM sleep (yeah, we've been tired!).

The next day we drove to Lake Bogoria. We were very impressed with the state of the tarmac. (Yes, tarmac, and it was in great shape!) We went in the northern gate of the park and were almost immediately treated to lots of flamingos, beautiful scenery, and hot springs.

Flamingos, mountains and lakes, oh my.

Despite what the ranger had said, the road to the south gate wasn't actually passable (at least, we weren't willing to try without having a winch, and someone to winch us). Instead of backtracking we decided to go out the western gate. It was on the park's map. It was on the GPS.

Note to self: If you find yourself saying "This road should work" when you already know another road is perfectly good, DON'T TRY IT. Just suck it up and backtrack.

After a journey that resembled a cartoon car going up and down hills, on a very rocky, bumpy, dirt track, we finally made it to the gate. Which was at a wee village. The gate was closed and locked. And the wee village was very, very quiet. Andrew got out of the car, and walked around looking interested in the gate. This process sends up the muzungu alert. Soon enough, a little boy came running up to Andrew, and stood there looking at him. Andrew pointed at the gate and asked a question. After a bit the boy smiled and went running, and soon enough an older man came to the gate, reached down and unwrapped the chain and still-locked steel padlock from the posts, and opened the gate. Er, thanks.

Note to self: If you find yourself saying "How do we get through this locked gate in the middle of nowhere" always try to simply open the gate. It just might work. 

After what seemed like hours and hours, very few cow/sheep/goat sightings (which just shows how middle-of-nothing we were for a while) and several exclamations that went something like "This is really on the map?", "This isn't a road, it's a river bed!", "You've gotta be kidding me!" and repeated renditions from the back seat of "are we there yet?", we finally reached the highway. Another four short hours through death-defying traffic and we would be home. Andrew would have kissed the tarmac if he wasn't so anxious to push the car above 15 km per hour.

And then, I got to deliver the news to the wee one that 1) yes, she could watch a dvd now, and 2) when we got home, we were going to babysit two kittens. After 5 weeks with us the kittens went home last night amid many tears (from the child) and sighs of relief (from the curtains and my office chair).

Cutie faces, loud purrs, funny pounces, sharp claws.

Running

It's been one of those months...hence, things have been quiet on the blog. A few things have kept us running with feet spinning around like cartoon characters.

1. End of school year / beginning of "let's keep the kid busy and make ourselves crazy in the process" (sign up for camp, get a schedule, pay the money, and expect it to happen...? Not in Africa!).
2. A long-awaited camping trip! Which totally rocked except for the fact that the roads on the map really shouldn't be on the map if that's what they are calling a road (a future post). This resulted in a very long drive home.
3. The Great Sandbox Debacle (I'm not ready to talk about it).
4. Piloting of the training I've developed on temporary contract with a locally-located WHO office (develop materials, enlist participants, and carry out the training...? Not in Africa!).
5. Andrew's scheduled travel to a conference, it's on - off - on - off - on! (and so is his work on the paper he is to present).
6. The CATS, which we are kitten-sitting, adorable as they are, with their kitty boxes and their kitty claws and their penchant for climbing, disrupting the normally (un)productive evening working hours. 
7. Three people, sick for two weeks.
8. The child, who loves the cats so much, that she barely lets the poor things' feet touch the ground.

This weekend I am looking forward to actually running, paying some attention to my kid, and, best of all, picking up some of "our people" from the airport! 

Footprints on the wall

What a delightfully slow Easter weekend we celebrated. The wee one was gratifyingly excited for Easter and celebrating Jesus' love for us. We died eggs (brown, though they are, we tried) and hung kindergartner-made decorations.

We also had some bug issues. A swarm of dull witted winged things seemed to have congregated on one wall in our house.

Warty, being our Easter egg tree.

It was a bit deflating to have no one to celebrate Easter with (the bugs were summarily squashed and evicted). We've been swamped with figuring out house help and vacation and me temporarily switching jobs and cast-related medical visits, we did not get around to inviting anyone, and nobody invited us. Not to be daunted, however, we had a lovely day, and celebrated the wee-one's first complete week without casts on Easter Monday with a quick safari. (Hubby wanted to get the car muddy. Check.)

When we arrived home in the afternoon, the kiddo seemed a bit warm, but she was acting fine and I didn't take her temperature (the next day was my 5th day on the new job....She'll be fine in the morning! Totally!).

Ahem. Morning temp: 102.7, with a headache.

Afternoon temp: uuuh, that can't be right...? Her temp was so high that I think my digital thermometer wasn't correctly calibrated. Off to the doc we went. Despite the embassy clinic saying it is closed, we got in. No wait!

We came home with a diagnosis of strep throat, two bottles of penicillin, one bottle of "motrin" to alternate with Tylenol and one bottle of generic Benadryl (in case she's allergic to penicillin.... you should just have it around anyway, you bad parent).

The kiddo crashed for the afternoon, and roused asking for dinner. Good sign?

An hour later, the husband was cleaning toast vomit off the kid and I was cleaning toast vomit off the chair, the carpet, the stool, the wood floor, and the bookshelf. Oh, and my jeans. As I'm walking between the vomitorium and the laundry sink for the third time, I notice the shoe print on the wall.

No bugs though. Just keep slapping them down, one at a time!

Rough day

I don't know why I never considered the possibility of a broken bone in my kid. Because she's a girl, I guess. She climbs like a monkey but holds my hand going down stairs and doesn't attempt anything too daring unassisted.

But alas, I was sitting, having a little chat with another mom (rare!), our girls were playing, and a little slip off a little swing sent us into 7 hours of hospital time over 2 days, with a sleepless night in-between. The hospital visit - for fractures and not breaks, at least - entailed 5 exam rooms or specialists on 3 different floors and standing in the cashier line on at least 4 separate occasions (not including the pharmacy visit). We are tired.

While the process was daunting the docs were good. The kiddo has two casts, one of which allows her thumb and one finger to barely touch, the other doesn't allow her fingers to close at all. Somehow we've got to muddle through a thousand daily tasks that are now quite tricky. And the plane ride for our upcoming vacation. The poor kid says "I do not like these times!"

A force to be reckoned with...

It's been a tough and interesting few weeks, and I am continually grateful for the wee one and her funny / frustrating / fabulous antics to take over our focus.

If you really know my sweet-faced little kiddo, you know that beneath the silly jokes and kitten alter-ego there is a streak of ferocious. For example, this week she has both been complimented on how well spoken she is ("delightful") and she has struck fear into our panga (machete)-wielding gardener.

She's either melting you with sweetness or making you want to run the other way, that's our girl.

Saving the world, one PowerPoint presentation at a time...

Exhibit A: I have always, always, been grateful for my job. I can't think of another job where I could have survived 9 months of morning sickness, several state-to-state moves, and one (so far) country-to-country move, and kept the same job, provided health insurance to our family through my husband's job-search slog, and worked with the same talented and wonderful people. Despite many things in life not going the way we would have planned, I see this job, being able to work from home and take my job wherever we go, as a true God-given blessing.

Exhibit B: I have always, always felt my job is worth doing. What I produce goes to train front-line public health workers and epidemiologists. I have received, on rare occasions, face-to-face praise the work of our Center and for projects that I gave my heart and soul to - expressions of how much our content has helped or how far our content has reached across the globe. Awesome.

The surprise: I'm the effective room mom for my kid's class. I didn't even know this until yesterday, when someone from the parent-teacher fellowship (our school's PTA) contacted me about teacher appreciation week. Now that I think about it, I'm the one who shows up, on occasion at least. I only have the one kid. I can build flexibility into my schedule and it's a 5 minute walk from my front door to the classroom. I don't do it often - after all I do work full time.

The other moms? Keeping in mind there are only 11 kids in the class...of the ones I've met, one is stay-at-home for now, has multiple kids, and is extensively involved in everything school already. Several others have save-the-world jobs. And here, I mean, really, seriously, they are out there saving the world. As in Save the Children, World Vision, and UN Somalia program.

Me? I work on PowerPoint about 80% of my day. I fuss about the best verb to use for learning objectives and capitalization for bullet points. I explain how to use epidemiology. I could almost do it in my sleep by now.

I think I'm going to step up the room mom effort.

Summertime...

I can't deny that the living is easy. We may be at risk from robberies, carjacking, and terrorists, but we sure do have a nice pool and playground. The kiddo and her buddy played full out Saturday, and my kid at least had to give it up by 6:30 that night.
It was a warm day, as they have been, reminding me of late spring in New Mexico. Also like NM, it hasn't rained in a long while. Last week, upon coming out of the auditorium used for church services, it was cloudy. Not just clouds in the sky, but actual overcast-ness. You would have thought there was a giant shooting star up there, given the murmurs that rustled through the crowd, hands gesticulating upward. It's been a long time since there was potential for a rain drop! It cleared up shortly, though, and the weather has remained stubbornly pleasant since.

Interchangeable parts

We had the next-door neighbors over for dinner. Their young child says to me, "Our house is just like this one, except that it has a Mickey Mouse puzzle instead of a Star Wars puzzle."

Trying not to be too existential about that...

Sports Day

Something about kids cheering for other kids just puts a smile on my face. Today was Rosslyn Academy's annual sports day - a first of its kind for our kindergartner, and us parents got to watch "teams" across the grades band together. Those Montessori schools we've been going to, prior to now, have a "big day out" at a historic organic farm, or plan major events where children line up in front of parents, sing lovely songs wearing photogenic outfits, and everyone sedately munches Whole Foods veggie platters and homemade ethnic snacks until the parents are kindly shuffled out the door.

Not so at Rosslyn! OK, our biggest school previously went only up to 4th grade and had less than 50 students. We have just experienced the entire middle and elementary schools out on the track - shouting their cheers (my vocal chords are shot -- Go Red Team!), lining up heats - Kindergarten through third grade - older kids on another field, girls then boys, siblings running all over, I would be shocked if my own kid heard a word of instruction that was directed at her (Kiddo! That person up there is talking to YOU! Pay attention!). Every few minutes a responsible adult turned around to ask, where is so-and-so?... and in short order an energetic youth was sent off on a scouting mission - always returning successful, I might add.
The littlest ones ran the 50m and 100m, and had the option to run the 400m. Well, one goes, they all go, so they all ran it, and I think shocked their PE coach out of her shoes. The school did not happen to mention in all the papers that went home that the parents should be sure to have their running shoes on: Between the starting line, the jumping and shouting, the finish line, and the zig-zag across the infield, it was quite a workout. When my kiddo saw me cheering for her toward the end of her very long lap, she swerved right off the track so she could collapse my feet. Oh ho! I swooped and grabbed her arm, dragged her back out there, and we finished together. In fact, a significant number of parents joined in the race with their flagging kiddos. How great is that?

The last "event" for our kids was play time in the pool. Perhaps a woman has not well and truly experienced motherhood until she goes into a 12 x 16 ft changing room with at least 60 girls, half of whom are dripping wet, all changing clothes, horsing around, being goofy, loud, or upset, all at the same time. I was speechless. The kiddo left her backpack in there, and I tried to send her in to bring it back out (how would we ever find it otherwise?), and she blurted "I can't go back in there!!!!" I see her point.

At any rate, hats off to the amazing staff at Rosslyn. The level of dedication, organization, patience, and pure good-heartedness that it took to carry that off was deeply impressive. Thank you.