Way Down Yonder

I know this post is long overdue. But as I add years to my time here on earth, I notice that it takes me a few days to recover after being on the road, but maybe this applies only after spending time with family...Anyway, our brief visit down south was mostly enjoyable. I say mostly, because Jim's mum is not 100% and it is always messy when trying to deal with aging loved ones and different expectations amongst siblings. So in typical familial fashion, there was no road map to guide us along, but we bumbled through and made the most of our four days. Before we crossed the state line into Mississippi to where Helen lives, we first spent a few hours in New Orleans. I feel completely at home in New Orleans, not because of the culture, necessarily, but because it reminds me of being in a third-world city, and I say this with the utmost respect. There is a wonderful grit, rawness and honesty about N.O. that I've yet to experience in any other North American city. I feel completely at ease there. Of course it helps that Cafe du Monde is also located there, and what would a visit to N.O. be without our annual quota of sugary, fried goodness with a chicory au lait chaser? As you can see from the photos above, we were all in powdered sugar bliss.

After our bellies were sated, we headed east to Helen's. The weather was sublime. A mild 79 degrees with just the slightest kiss of humidity. It was nice to be there for Helen. Jim's stipulation to his mother was that we would do all the shopping and cooking while there. For those of you who know me, you know that I don't cook without wine, and I'm not talking cooking with wine, if you know what I mean. The only problem is that the county that Helen lives in is a dry county (who knew those still existed? Didn't prohibition end some 80 years ago?) and so I couldn't just go to a store and purchase my required beverage. Believe me I tried, and the grocer, bless his southern heart, directed me to a few beverages labeled, "blackberry flavored grape juice posing as wine." I mildly panicked and Jim said he would drive me across county lines where I would possibly have better luck. Well, it wasn't Jim, but his sister Mary Ann--who remembered that this girl doesn't cook without her vino--who kindly drove me into Louisiana where, sure enough, I found my wine. It wasn't a stellar selection, but beggars can't be choosers. I have loads of opinions on what "dry counties" really do to its population, but I'll save that for a later rant. I will say this, however; if the state of Mississippi really cared for its citizens, it wouldn't impose alcohol restrictions (because those work! Not.) and would instead make sure there was a Planned Parenthood or other reproductive health clinic located in every county so the women and men of that state didn't have to suffer one of the highest rates of teen-pregnancy, STI rates, and poverty in the country. It's shameful. Okay, my two cents for now...

Besides having to cross state lines to find wine, we also did as the locals do and went fishing in ponds, ate crawfish, and lounged around. All in all we had a good time, and I'm glad we made the effort, even if it did take us three days to recover.

Give us this day, our daily red

The other day while Jim and I were shopping for wine, there was a sign over a French red table wine that read, "A nicely balanced wine that can be enjoyed daily," to which I wondered, is there any other kind?

Sorry in Advance

I apologize in advance to all future roommates and partners of Q & L. Please know that Jim and I do actually make an effort to get the boychicks to clean their room, but as you can see, this is a battle that all too often we'd rather not fight. I try to tell myself that they'll eventually learn organization and tidiness, just like my sister finally did. She, too, was a total slob (sorry Jo, but it's true) and she eventually came around. Maybe it's genetic. Or maybe this is totally normal for twin 11 year olds who share a room and a love of legos --those pesky little plastic pieces that hurt like hell when they embed in the soft part of your foot. As long as they excel in academics and their extracurricular pursuits, we don't harp on them too much for a disastrous room. It's important not to lose sight of what really matters...

SAB

We just found out that Quinn and Logan were accepted to the School of American Ballet (SAB) summer program in New York City. Yeowzah. We unfortunately had to decline the invitation as we have committed to attend Pacific Northwest Ballet (PNB) where they were given full scholarship. Those two boychicks just never cease to amaze.  

15 days to Beignets

The countdown has started. We leave in 15 days to New Orleans where we will promptly head to Cafe du Monde for beignets and chicory coffee. I am so glad I live 2,000 miles away from Cafe du Monde, because I know if I lived closer, I would eat beignets every day and then I would weigh three tons. I normally have incredible discipline and will-power and am not cursed with a sweet-tooth, but get me around freshly fried beignets loaded with powdered sugar, and watch out! I swear we get our annual quota of fat and sugar in one visit down south. But our visit isn't centered around Cafe du Monde, our real purpose is to see Jim's mum, who lives just out side N.O. in Picayune (you must pronounce this word with no fewer than seven syllables and say it in a sing-songy sort of way.) It will be a short visit, but just long enough for the boys to get loved on by grandma and just long enough for us to get our fill of fried goodness until we return again next year...

Dance

Our evening of volunteering at the boys' activity night was a success. Jim and I had so much fun that we've agreed to volunteer at all the upcoming activity nights, which totally bummed Quinn and Logan out. Who can blame them? I sure as hell didn't want my parents lurking around when I went to school dances. Of course, I attended a private, religious middle school and we didn't do fun things like dance or roller skate, that would surely lead to S-E-X. Our class outings included day trips to the Manteca Waterslides. Getting kids together at night would also lead to S-E-X. Let's just say I didn't start having fun until high school...

So activity night was fun. Jim and I got stationed selling pizza/popcorn, to which Jim wondered if he had Food Service Professional flashing in neon lights from his forehead. We begrudgingly accepted food service duty only because we would be situated right next to the gym where the dancing was taking place. Oooh did we have fun. This is such a fun/confused age. Being able to watch hundreds of 11-13 year olds navigate the sticky social dynamics, was really enlightening. We did our best not to embarrass our children, and for the most part they still acknowledged that they were related to us. At one point a gaggle of girls saw Jim's name tag, which displayed his first and last name and they squealed, "Are you Quinn and Logan's dad?" Jim responded in the affirmative and they all giggled and squirmed. I was stuffing bags of popcorn at that point, so didn't get a good look at the types of girls who would so overtly swoon over Q & L in front of their parents, but just hearing them made me laugh. 

All in all, we had fun. I'm sure some innocent hanky panky was taking place somewhere in the school, but it wasn't happening at the popcorn/pizza station. Oh well, maybe next time...

Junior High Dance

Tonight Jim and I agreed (volunteered, begged) to help chaperone the valentine's "activity night" at the boys' school. I was especially eager to gain access to the social lives of tweeners, because since the boys have started middle school, we feel sort of left out. Almost nightly we casually ask the boys how things are going, what happens during a typical day at school, who do you hang out with, etc., and although we are fortunate and thankful that they don't reply with monosyllabic grunts, they still do not provide me with the juicy details I'm really after. It's also a strange transition from elementary to middle school. In elementary school, we were still the hovering/doting parents. We carpooled to school, we talked daily with the teachers and other parents, we dutifully went to all school functions, etc. Middle School is a whole different scene. Gone are the days when we take our kids to school and know who their teachers are. Haaa. I haven't a clue about what goes on at school, and it's not because I don't try. It really is that different. Now the boys make their own breakfast and lunch and get themselves to school. In fact, Jim and I aren't even here in the mornings, so they are pretty much taking care of themselves. The scary part is that they do a really good job and so last summer when they knew they were going to Philadelphia for ballet school, they assumed we were renting them an apartment and they would be living on their own! Anyway, when the opportunity came to volunteer for activity night, I eagerly signed Jim and myself up for the honors. I can't wait to watch the social interaction of these kids. There will be dancing, karaoke, games, and I'm sure lots of other "unapproved" activities. I'm not quite sure of what our jobs tonight will entail, but I really hope we are smack in the middle of all the action and not stationed in the parking lot. On second thought, the parking lot is probably where all the "real" action will be...