You want to do what?

Wow. Over 700 page views. Thanks everyone. I'm thrilled. :-)

I'm also recovering from some kind of flu. I love going to swimming lessons with the kids when I feel like this because the Y keeps the pool deck heated at about 85F and 100% humidity. It feels great when you're sick. Of course, it feels sick when you feel good, so there's the trade-off.

The kids can't take swimming lessons at the same time any more. Hannah is at one level (Porpoise) and Caleb is several levels below her (Fish) and they only offer Hannah's level on Saturdays. This is great when I'm not feeling well because I can get up and go to the pool and sweat like a pig.

Mom always insisted that we all learn to swim. She said that we had to be able to swim well enough to save her if the need ever arose. But that practicality aside, I agree with her. Everyone should swim. It's great exercise, it might save your life someday, and if you do it well enough, you could have a better job than McDonald's during the summer months. Who wouldn't rather lifeguard after all? Not that I'm knocking McD's. I worked there for three years. I still have a hard time eating french fries. When you come home smelling like a fryer, it kind of turns you off to it for awhile...forever actually.

The Y offers a lot of programs, but one of their sponsored events is a kids triathlon offered in tandem with their regular triathlon. They encourage all of the swimming lesson kids levels Fish and above to enter. I'm not sure why. Being able to swim doesn't mean that you can run or ride a bike for that matter, but since my kids can do all three activities, they've started training. At least that's their excuse for running through the house like my halls are a race track.

Hannah did the triathlon last year, and both she and Caleb want to do it this year. I was Hannah's support team. I had no clue what I was getting into. I struck up an agreement with Hannah. She could do the triathlon, but she had to do the best she could in every category and she had to try her hardest to finish, no matter how long it took her. This year I know a bit more about what I'm getting into. I've made the same agreement with both of them and I can say that I'm really proud of my kids for wanting to do this. I'm not thrilled, but I'm proud.

Before the swim--inked up.

I am really not thrilled at all.That sounds awful, but it's true. I'm not thrilled. Last year it was 45F and windy and drizzling on race day. We started before 8am--a special kind of hell in and of itself. For anyone not familiar with triathlons, you start off swimming. With the kids' triathlon that's a swim in lap pool--not the 80F pool, the other one; the one they keep at about 35F so it doesn't freeze. The kids have to swim 200m in the 7-10 year old category (yes, we're mixing our measuring systems. Sorry. I'm American.) This isn't far, but it's far enough for kids who might never have swum laps before. Hannah did okay. She didn't pace herself though and had to switch to backstroke for the last 50m. No problem. It's a triathlon. You get through it any way you can, as well as you can.

After the swim, you have to ride a bike. Again, no problem....except for the 45F and windy...and rain...and the kids were wet and cold. The "transition" station was outside in the middle of the track. The wind was whipping around. I was cold, and I wasn't even wet. I gave Hannah my gloves. I gave her my ear warmers. I told her that if she finished she could pick where we were going to eat dinner. She was so cold she couldn't even tie her own shoes. And she had to ride a mile on her bike. She was nearly crying. I think I was crying, but we had a deal. She was going to try her hardest. Not only was I crying by this point, I was terribly, terribly guilty that I was making my child do this. Not that she hadn't begged to do it. Not at all. I had not only let her do it, but I felt as if I had forced her to do it.

Many of the kids got out onto the street where the course was mapped out, and turned around and came back almost immediately. I know this because the kids were all chip-timed, and there is no way 7-10 year olds would be able to ride a mile in under 2 minutes. Hannah wavered in the face of the wind, but she didn't stop. She pushed and pushed and was soon out of sight. Nearly 10 nail biting minutes later she came back into sight. I was relieved. Now just a half mile to run.

She ran it. I didn't run it with her, although I ran alongside of her for a bit. "Don't embarrass me," she requested through chattering teeth as she rounded a turn. I fell back. I was embarrassing??...but George and Caleb were there with their "go Hannah" signs, hooting and hollering and that wasn't embarrassing at all.

And she finished. Soaking wet and nearly crying she finished the run and got her finisher's medal. She picked Barnaby's for dinner. At dinner, Caleb announced that he was going to do it next year.

So here I am. happy that they are going to do this, but knowing that my own misery will be compounded as I watch both of them struggle, shiver and maybe cry their way through the triathlon course. But I will support them. I'll be their cheerleader and their coach, and I will encourage them when the going gets tough, and I won't embarrass them any more than is completely necessary. I'll do it because it's good practice. As they get older, that's the role I'll have to fill in their lives.

And no matter where they finish, I'll be proud of them. Getting through...that's what matters after all.

Now he wants to do it too.

Nacho Night

The kids picked dinner today. I don't let them do this a lot. I learned very early that giving children too many choices is not always a good idea, and putting them in charge is even less so. I never have asked them, "Is that okay?" because it doesn't matter if they think it's okay. I'm their Mom. I make the choices. I make choices that will keep them healthy and whole throughout their childhood. Not that all of my decisions are correct or even good all of the time; however, my job is to keep them alive long enough to be able to make their own decisions as adults. Right now, I will make choices, and I don't care if it's "okay" with them.

(But here comes the bad part about being a decision maker) I'm not really a good meal planner. The biggest stress in my day, most days, is deciding what to prepare for dinner. (I know, I know. If that's my major stress, what do I have to complain about?) From the time I wake up in the morning to the time we sit down at the table in the evening, I'm worried about dinner. Will they eat it? Will I make enough? Will I make too much? Will I have the time to finish it? Will I have the ingredients? Will I like it--because I have to eat it. It's not an option for me to refuse to eat something I cooked. A chef who won't eat her own cooking isn't a chef you can trust.

Sometimes I luck out. Turns out my kids like edamame. Who knew. They just sucked those soybean pods dry and asked for more. I don't get that with a lot of vegetables. I've also learned that they don't like quiche, which I find funny because they both like scrambled eggs although Caleb prefers sausage over bacon.

Another reason for my unreasonable stress is that dinner, being the one meal of the day when we all sit down, is the meal that I use to teach table manners. We use napkins. We use utensils. We don't slurp. We behave. Dinner is a test for me as a mom, and for the kids as savages. It's a rite of passage for them from the kids' table to being able to dine with adults. I don't know if I ever passed it when I lived at home. When I was growing up, dinner was a successful meal if no one was dismissed from the table for making nose jokes.

Conversation circa 1980-1990 in the Kusar Household:
One of us kids: "What's green and goes backwards at a hundred miles an hour?"
Mom: "You can be excused now."
Dad: "Leave!"

Once when my kids were little, in an effort to foster their interest in dinner and hopefully to encourage them to behave, I gave them the privilege of choosing the dinner menu. This only happened once because they decided that they wanted 'corn' for dinner. We had corned beef, corn bread and creamed corn. This is why three and five year olds don't run restaurants; the themes are a bit simple. Honestly, it wasn't a bad meal, but  they refused to eat it.

But today I was feeling adventurous, and "corn day" being five years past, I once again let them choose the dinner menu. Today was Nacho Night at the Brohlin household. We had blue and yellow chips, taco meat with black beans, re-fried beans, salsa, and queso with jalapenos. Hannah and Caleb set the menu. I did the shopping and we all sat down to eat. I'm always thrilled when they eat things. They've become much more adventurous lately. We've come a long way from 'corn' night. The only thing left uneaten was the salsa because you could actually identify the vegetables in it.

And I had fun. I relaxed. We dipped our chips and laughed at the towering layers of cheese and beans and salsa and more beans. Hannah made a refried bean road on her plate and created hazards with black beans in the road, and then scooped up the hazards with chips. Caleb did a blind taste test to see if he could tell the difference between yellow and blue chips. I didn't harp on napkins (although they were there.) I didn't nag about slurping (although there was surprisingly little.) or using utensils (it was nachos for pity's sake!) Of course, it wasn't the healthiest we've ever eaten. There were no green vegetables, and I forgot to put out the baby carrots to snack on. But, when the studies are published that show that eating dinner with your family stops kids from getting into drugs, getting into trouble, getting kicked out of school, driving drunk, joining the circus, becoming carnies, or majoring in art history, this is probably the kind of dinner that does the most good.

I'll give them a crash course in table manners when we're invited to the White House for the award I'll win someday for being a good Mom. Until then, I think we'll build some more refried bean highways and take them to a stress-free place...until I have to decide what to eat tomorrow night.

Unexpected Bright Spots in the Universe

Our weekly field trip was to the Adler Planetarium. Because my phone was very, very low on batteries, I only got to take two photos. Both were of us eating in the cafeteria. Exciting, huh? Luckily that wasn't the high point of our day.

The Planetarium has always been an odd museum. It has always seemed to be a little bit disorganized, out of date, small, and staffed by the biggest geeks you can imagine. Of course the last time I went there was probably before I was in High School, so there was a lot of time to improve.

Well, it's still a bit disorganized, although they have a great staff who will direct you anywhere you might want to go. As far as out of date, that's been taken care of. Once you can find your way around they have some pretty good displays on telescopes through history, mapping the galaxy, the early space program, and they now have three different theaters (one 3D) in which you can watch incredible sky shows. Even the non-3D theaters look 3D. I had to close my eyes on more than one occasion because I felt like I was falling through a hole in the sky.

I can happily say that the museum is still staffed by huge geeks. This is not a disadvantage in any way. One of the great things that they have added to the museum is a visualization lab where, several times a day, you can talk to actual astronomers and artists who create ways for us common folk to visualize the universe. We spent an hour there. The astronomer sat the kids down to interact with  a video array of views from one of the Mars Rovers. That is when the questions began.

George: "Wow. So, which Rover is this?"
Astronomer: "Spirit, I believe."
Caleb: "There are a lot of rocks here. It looks like erosion. Is that from wind or water?"
Astronomer: "It is erosion. From here it looks like it was caused by water mostly. But what's really interesting is that those are volcanic rocks."
Caleb: "Volcanic? How long ago was Mars volcanically active?"
Astronomer: "Probably about a hundred million years ago."
Caleb: "So is the water more recent?"

Hannah: "Do you do this illustration? Is it all by computers or do you draw it?"
Astronomer: "It's all done on computer. If you take these 3D glasses, you can see how cosmic rays and gamma rays collide with the atmosphere and shatter..."
Hannah: "So the rays split? Is that dangerous?"
Astronomer: "The atmosphere of the earth protects us, but some of the rays can get through."
Hannah: "What happens when they do? Can it cause sicknesses?"
Astronomer: "Well, some of the radiation, if you are exposed in large amounts, can cause a bad disease that starts with a 'c.' "
Hannah: "Yes, cancer. But are we in danger right now?"
Astronomer: "Only a small amount of gamma rays get through the atmosphere. Chances are, you won't be hit by any."
Hannah: "But if I am, will I get cancer and die?"
Astronomer: "No. Maybe one of your cells might die. That's one of billions that are in your body. I don't think you're in danger."
Hannah: "Okay. But if I get hit a lot..."
Me: "You won't."

Astronomer: "This is a map of the Milky Way Galaxy. Right at the center you can see a super massive black hole..."
Caleb: "Oh yeah. You know, I've always wanted to study those."
Astronomer: "Always...? Well, super massive black holes shoot out gamma rays. That's what I study. In my model you can see that some cosmic rays shatter, but gamma rays don't. I study the charged particles that make it through the atmosphere."
Caleb: "So you just study parts of the atoms? The charged parts? Do they get charged before they hit the atmosphere? Is that why they break up? What do they hit? Can we make electricity with the charges?"

Astronomer: "We are constantly being bombarded with particles from space. Right now there are particles shooting through your body...."
Hannah: "Are you talking about neutrinos?"
Caleb: "I was just going to say that."
Astronomer: "You know about neutrinos too!??"

Yes, my kids were able to out-geek the geeks. The other astronomer in the lab took me aside and said. "I don't think we've had this much fun in months. Not everyone feels comfortable asking questions."

I'm not going to take credit for my kids being smart. I think that's just something that they were born with. I will give myself a pat on the back, however, because they know it's okay to ask questions, and they aren't afraid to ask. Sometimes, when we are so busy shushing and quieting the kids and getting annoyed at the questions that they ask, we forget that this is how they learn. They ask because they REALLY WANT TO KNOW. They don't ask to annoy you, or to try to show you up, or to stump you. They are genuinely curious and so they ask. I hope that they never stop asking. I hope that they will always be surrounded by patient people (like Mr. Astronomer) who take the time to answer their questions. I hope that questions will always lead to more questions. I hope that they are never scared or worried about asking.

I think that we will go back to the Planetarium, just to visit with smart people who like answering questions. It was also the most fun I've had in months.

Just as we were getting ready to leave, we stopped by the Atwood Sphere. It was built in 1913 and it's the oldest "planetarium" in the western hemisphere. We got to go inside and learn about the constellations as they would appear over the city if we could see them. I can't explain it adequately, but if you ever have the opportunity, go and see it. I'm not sure if this will work, but here's a link I found with pictures. http://www.flickr.com/photos/adlerplanetarium/3351681947/

 I was, once again surprised at what my kids knew, and the questions that they weren't afraid to ask. Hannah wanted to know if the Pleiades and the Hyades had the same origin (etymologically or astronomically) and Caleb was curious about the zodiac constellations and was interested that they were also known as ecliptic constellations...so was I as a matter of fact. So, we all learned a lot. We all asked a lot of questions. It was a good time.

And here is one final picture of the cafeteria with a great view of the skyline (in spite of the rain.) Yet another improvement they made to this great, quiet, sciencey museum. The pizza wasn't bad either, which is a good thing, because it's featured here, in one of the only pictures I managed to take.

Reality as advertised

The weather was so nice a couple of weeks ago that we went out to the Morton Arboretum. The plan was to map out the maze garden. Do you know how hard that is? I mean mazes...who knew?

Instead we went out to "Big Rock." We had about a half mile hike to our destination. The sun was going down, it was getting cold...the kids were only wearing sweatshirts and weren't thrilled about the whole experience while we were walking through the slowly darkening woods. When we got there, however, it was hard to pull them away. Both were thrilled to have something to climb on. And there was mud. Who could ask for anything more?

Isn't it nice when you discover that your destination is exactly as advertised? Our destination was a big rock. It's not "giant rock," or "immense rock" (although in Starbucks world, this would actually be "Tall Rock.") It's a big rock at the edge of some old farm land.

Now to those of you who live in more geographically interesting climes, let me simply say this: in northern Illinois we don't get many rocks this big. Impressive? Maybe not. But it sure is interesting. It's also granite, which we also don't often get in these parts. Apparently Big Rock was dropped by a big glacier a long time ago.

Big deal? Well, when mapping out mazes is too difficult on a chilly day, discussing the evidence of ice age glaciation in our (figurative) backyard made for a good day of learning. Mission accomplished--even if it wasn't the mission we set out to do.

Big Mud too.