Clicking on the picture should make it nice and big for ya'll, but I'll warn you, there's a big spoiler in there for the three of you who haven't seen Return of the Jedi yet. If anyone has trouble reading it, I can transcribe it. I'm fluent in Yordese.
Since daylight is brief, my body has been craving carbs... so much so that I have been baking vast quantities of bread, pancakes and cookies. A friend asked if I happened to be in training for a marathon. After wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes, I had to admit that, NO, it's just that my butt has been begging to be bigger for such a long time that I finally decided to give it what it wanted.
You'll notice that the recipe yields 2 dozen rolls. I made one dozen rolls and one loaf and this is all that was left about an hour after they came out of the oven.
Kids over coffee? What's this world coming to?
As you can see, we're off to a great start...
Yet again, I've become what I used to detest. Back about a year ago, when I didn't have kids of my own and had the brain capacity for resentment, I hated tourists. I hated being associated with the 'average American' tourist, especially when I was being one. Now though, other than your average tourist being totally rude and self centered, I take some comfort in seeing otherwise reasonable people being reduced into using their primal brains while dealing with their children in public. We went to Mackinac Island today I selfishly smiled as I heard a woman nearly lose it when she realized that her child had crawled into a rental locker and was able to close the door behind him. But my moment of vindication came when we passed a tall blond man standing on a corner with his son, back-arched and whimpering, in a choke-hold. I didn't talk to him, but know that story quite well. I was just glad to see someone else getting to tell it.
And besides, my time was coming.
It was a perfect day and we had planned to rent bikes and ride the 8 mile perimeter of island. This of course was a new experience and Little Mr. Anxiety was not on board. Chris and I go back and forth as to what is the best way to deal with Habtamu's fears. In general we feel the more we tell him up front, the better off we are, but to a certain extent, it doesn't matter. Once he panics he doesn't process anything anyway. Maybe what we need to work on is trusting us when he gets scared instead of trying to prepare him with the logistics of a new situation.
The bane.
The first problem of renting a bike, is choosing a bike. Habtamu had already decided that on an island full of bikes, none of them were going to be right. He kept saying he wanted one with only one chain, meaning one gear. But he also wanted an adult bike. What I heard was, “Too many choices.” So Grandpa picked a bike for him, which he didn't like either. The seat was too big and he didn't like the basked on the front. So he freaked out. I don't remember how we got him on the bike. I think I had to leave and ride ahead first and then without me there he begrudging got on it. Apparently in the chaos Yordi decided that her bike wasn't hip enough for her to ride, quote, “I don't look pretty on it,” but H was taking the limelight on this one.
It took him about 4 out of the 8 miles to level out, apologize, get back to his normal happy self. Yordi swallowed her pride and I never heard another word about her ugly bike.
After riding around the island, we returned the bikes and walked up to the Grand Hotel and back down. We didn't push our luck. We got ice cream and were off the island eating pizza by 5pm. It ended up being a good day but took it's toll. All us adults were exhausted and one of us forgot to put on his SPF7000 sun screen so now he's got sunburn on my... I mean his, mosquito bites.
*A word about the title of this post: Mackinac Island is famous for it's fudge. Local slang for tourists who come to Northern Michigan, go to Mackinac Island, and think that they've experienced all that the Upper Peninsula has to ofter, are lovingly referred to as Fudgies. Sometimes they're also called Trolls because the come from 'below the bridge.' Anyway, I just thought 'Fudgie's Revenge' sounded funny. I don't take any responsibility for any other interpretation of the word fudgie.
Fudgie. Fudgie. Fudgie.
Feel free to giggle.
The Grand Hotel
This morning the kids had programming (i.e. running around with other kids their age) which meant that Chris and I had some time to ourselves. I think I spent most of mine blogging and sleeping, though I can't really remember. The afternoon we had all planned to hike out to 'Narnia,' which is a pretty spot on the coastline of Lake Huron with plenty of rocks on which to climb around.
We knew the kids would like it but of course as soon as we said, “Trust us, you'll like it.” we got immediate resistance. Mostly from Little Mr. NothingNewPlease. We tried to cover all the angles... How long we'd be out, how far, how we'd get to the trail in the first place, who would be there, etc... but in the end it really didn't matter. As soon as we got there, he picked up a walking stick that someone else had kindly left at the trailhead and proceeded to beat it against every animal, vegetable, or mineral within reach. (I'm guessing just a little pent up frustration...ya think?) Eventually, it escalated and he turned his attention toward his sister. Chris heard her yell 'Stop' several times. In his version, she walked into his blast radius and therefore it was not his fault. Although from the way he was acting, he was clearly feeling guilty about something. Now it wouldn't surprise me at all if his little hot poker sister really was invading his personal space, but this quickly tumbled into the, “You always believe her, I'm not part of this family, I'm always wrong, You don't love me, etc.. etc.. etc...” So I stopped him there on the trail and let everyone else go ahead. We then sat down, I calmed him down and we had a reasonable man to man discussion in which we worked out his feelings. Nah, just kidding. I grabbed his arms and held him until he screamed like a little girl. Then I told him that this was the place where he could scream as much as he wanted to because no one could hear him and he could yell until he felt better. Needless to say with that kind of encouragement, he didn't scream again even after two other hikers tip-toed around us, but we did stand there arm-locked until he cried and eventually concluded that this was even less fun than walking and swinging a stick at his sister.
When we finally got to Narnia, he stayed with Grandma, Grandpa, and me while Chris and Yordanos took a detour to Lost Lake to get some pictures of the elusive carnivorous plants, and then joined up with us later. His sister was out of sight for about 4 seconds when he finally saw the rocks and his smile came out. He then spent the next hour bounding from rock to rock daring me to keep up. And as a final testament to just how much fun it was, he even recovered after slipping into the water so well that Yordi wanted to jump in too.
After all that screaming and fussing, he admitted on the hike back that it was pretty cool.
We have friends who have a running, "And what did you learn?" dialog with their children. They use it to acknowledge good behavior ("I learned that if I clean my room the first time mommy tells me to do it, I get to watch TV longer in the afternoon") and also to nail down exactly when poor choices were made ("I learned that the phrase, 'Make me' might fly with other 4th graders, but never use it again on Daddy.") We've tried similar discussions with our kids but we just get blank stares and end up answering the question ourselves. Chris told the kids after the hike, "Today you learned that you can trust that mommy and daddy won't lead you into the woods just to show you crap. Even if finding wolf poop was actually one of the highlights. That was just a coincidence."
I'm sure C.S.Lewis would be proud...
So the good thing about family vacation week is that there is hardly any set schedule. You pretty much can do what you want when you want. The bad thing about it is that there's hardly any set schedule and you can gripe about how bored you are and about all the things you're not going to do for as long as you want.
What really makes daddy happy is when you complain for 2 days about how you really want to go kayaking, then complain while kayaking about how tired you are, then complain that this place stinks and we never do anything you want while putting on your shoes after kayaking. That really makes Daddy happy.
I'll give you a hint: Daddy's not a big fan of the kayak.
As I alluded yesterday, Habtamu does much better with a schedule than he does with a big line through the day on the calendar that says, “Free time.” So, in situations like this I become the program director, a job I'm not particularly fond of or good at. Apparently, “Go sit on the beach,” or “Go play with those kids,” or “Go make friends on the far side of camp,” or "JUST GO!" are not acceptable activities. I know, I know, I know how the song "Cat's in the Cradle" ends and I've listened to my wife talk about her latest favorite book, "Hold on to Your Kids" but sometimes it's a better choice to go commune with nature for awhile by yourself than trying to get Daddy to be as cool as your camp counselor. And it probably goes without saying that the things I wanted to do, like sitting and listening to some guys play guitar weren't acceptable either.
So this morning started like one of those bad breakups where the girl that you broke up with just won't leave you alone. And she keeps trying to hang out with you and get you to like her but the more she tries, the more it drives you away. You don't have anything to talk about and you don't want to do any of the same stuff, so all you do is disagree politely until you can't take it any more and start yelling at each other. Yeah, you've had that relationship. You know what I'm talking about. Ok, Ok, maybe that never happened to *me* because, like, I couldn't get a date until I was 32, but I've seen a bunch of movies where that kind of thing happened. I'm sure stuff like that happens all the time to real people.
Anyway, my point is, I was the one stomping off into the woods on more than one occasion today. I'd leave with my son's scowling eyes burning through the back of my head, and returned to his scorn because it was my fault his day was being ruined. This is pretty much what all parents strive for, right? You nurture a young life in the hopes that someday you can come home to either the apathy or disapproving glares that you've worked so hard for. *SIGH*
Well, the good news is, true to form he got this, "Entertain me" thing out of his system around lunch time and had a perfectly afternoon. So at least today there was happiness during the daylight hours. Maybe tomorrow we'll have a blowout at breakfast and even get to enjoy the rest of the morning.
Note: Yordi's hasn't been getting a whole lot of blog time this vacation, and I feel kinda bad about it, but really, she's been almost self sufficient. She's been making friends, holding babies, running with girls, chasing boys, and playing games since the van door opened. And when she's not doing that, she plays by herself. Don't get me wrong, she's still got some sass, but overall, she's really in her element out here and it's hard not to do side by side comparisions with her brother. They're just two completely different personalities, especially in the stress-response department. So you might not hear much about her this week but that's because the old, "No news is good news" adage applies.
If you know my son at all, he doesn't respond well to new situations. He likes to know the schedule, the system, the plan, the options, the people, the places, the everything. If there's anything unknown, he gets frustrated which can easily turn into panic and then fight or flight. This pretty much dooms anything... new, like say, oh I don't know... maybe a vacation.
The first couple times, as a reasonable adult, the fear is understandable and easy to deal with. You go over the schedule. You walk the paths so he knows where everything is. You go over the schedule again. But eventually even the most patient mama bird has to start prodding the little ones out of the nest. Here at camp, there's a lot of unstructured free time. This leaves Habtamu with a lot of time to watch other people playing games, getting to know each other, having fun, etc... and he becomes unfillable. Whatever he's doing isn't as enjoyable as what those other kids are doing, especially when it's exactly what he thought he wanted to do. And that's when daddy gets irritable.
At one point, and honestly I don't even remember what the catalyst was, H slammed the door and went out in the hallway and started flicking the lights on and off. He hasn't done that particular combination at home for a long time, but it's his way of saying, “Come get me I'm inconsolable.” The problem is at that point he won't “find his center” and come back. He can't cool down and it escalates, usually in front of other people, until I intervene... which of course is really what he wants, he just ran out of other ways to say it. So attempting to nip this bud as quickly as possible I storm the hallway telling him in no uncertain terms to get away from the light-switch because there are sleeping babies close by. He says 'No!' but stops anyway. I grab for his wrist and try to make eye contact. Now, neither action is going to make the situation better but I know how this is going to play out and I just want it over. He pulls and tells me to let go, I twist his forearm and tell him to get it together (aren't I helpful when I'm angry?) and then there's a small pop in his arm. Now, when I say 'small pop' I mean like cracking knuckles pop, not shoulder dislocation pop although honestly if his arm would have come out of the socket at that moment I probably would have beat him with it. Usually he finds his growth-spurt crunchiness very amusing, and I knew instantly that there was no (real) damage done, but don't think for a moment that it would prevent him from dropping to the floor and writhing like a 2 year old. I, oh so helpfully, reminded him of the age he was acting, and dragged him back to the room where we could finish this without a conservative Christian audience or keeping those sleeping babies awake. [Side note from Chris: I also told him to keep it down because babies were sleeping. He said "No!" very angrily, but in a whisper.]
Once we got into the room, I tried something a little different. I normally keep him on my lap until he's done freaking or has cried it out, but the bunkbeds didn't exactly accommodate that. This time, I let him sit across from me almost immediately. I think it took more time because he didn't cry it out right away, but we eventually talked it through. I heard all about how there was nothing to do here, and how everybody else was having fun, and how he wanted to go home. He never did admit to me how scared he was and it still bugs me that he never really came to terms with that.
Usually with H, when it's over, it's over and you get a good solid hug and an earnest apology. This time I got a weak hug and the apology was more of a statement than an admission of guilt. I suspect though, it's because he's still afraid and really hadn't resolved those fears yet.
It wasn't until well after dinner that he got involved with some kids throwing a frisbee around and then a volleyball game. That's when we finally saw that big natural smile of his. An hour and a half after his normal bed time he came up to me sweating and grinning and said that maybe this place wasn't so bad after all. Maybe tomorrow he'll figure that out while it's still daylight...
Meanwhile:
Well, this is vacation week for Team Gardner. We reserved our spot for Family vacation week at Cedar Campus in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Grandma and Grandpa Gardner are here too and even offered to take the kids in the minivan/camper a day early. They planned on breaking the trip up into 2 parts while Chris and I blitzed up Saturday morning so she could get one more night's sleep in her own bed. We were saddle sore, but in good spirits when we met up at the camp. People looked at me funny when I told them that we were starting our family vacation by intentionally not driving together, but in this case it worked. A friend from work loaned us his DVD player so the kids enjoyed their extended movie time in the van, as did G'ma and G'pa. :-) Chris got to listen to Phantom of the Opera throughout her shift driving, which she somehow finds relaxing. I guess it helps to know the storyline because all I heard was shrieking, arguing, some evil laughter and the occasional lull so the next round of random screaming would jar me half out of my seat. I tried to get back at her when it was my turn to drive, but I didn't have anything particularly obnoxious on my MP3 player. Remind me next time to load up on bagpipe and tuba duets for just such an occasion. Anyway, we all made it and it looks like we're off to a good start.
This circus was so small, that this performer also sold us tickets. Also, there was no net. Yikes.
Friends.
Flying through the Hoop.
Coolest picture I've ever taken, maybe.
Friends.
Dryish riverbed... will we find a waterfall?
Playing in the waterfall.
Good day for this boy. Another child got grumpy, but it wasn't any of mine! :)
Reading by the waterfall.
BFFs
One teeny tiny frog... there were hundreds... thousands?
