Yes, You Will Need Geometry Later in Life

My darling daughter was failing Geometry last semester.  She managed to pass it but obviously there was a problem.  I blamed her laziness and unwillingness to do her work; Bill pointed out that she might not understand it.  Turns out, it was a combination of both.

And here's the best part - I sucked  it up and said I would help her with her homework.  Actually my words were "Dern it, I'm going to have to do geometry, aren't I?" 

So Rachel hauled her homework out.  Similar triangles.  Not too scary, right?  Wrong.

**The artwork below is a recreation of the actual problem.  No criticisms, please.  Rachel doesn't get her artsy genes from me.  So stop laughing.

Homework problem #33 - "Identify the similiar triangles in the example above and explain why."

Rachel:  "Okay, Mom, which ones are the similar triangles?"
Me: "ABC and AEC.  Duh."
Rachel:  "Now tell me why."
Me: "They look similar.  Duh."
Rachel:  "Mom, Mr. Math Teacher isn't going to accept that as an answer.  WHY are they similar?  How can you prove it?"
Me:  "Oh, okay.  Well, let's see."

Long pause.

Me:  "Those little circle-y lines in the corners..."
Rachel:  "Triangles don't have corners.  They have angles."
Me:  "Yeah, okay, so those circle-y things in the ANGLES mean that the ANGLES are, like, the same degree or whatnot, right?"
Rachel:  "Yes."
Me: "So, um, it must have to do with that."
Rachel:  "You're not helping."

So we turned back to the first of the chapter and I dutifully looked through the explanatory problems and while angles were mentioned, I really didn't HAVE A CLUE what they were talking about. 

About 10 minutes later, after staring at the problem, I came to the conclusion that while I was certain that the angles were important, there was a bigger reason for why those two were similar.

Me:  "See how both ABC and AEC share a line?"
Rachel:  "They share a line?"
Me:  "Yeah, see, they both have the line from A to C.  So we know that at least one of the sides is similar, and then if those angles up there are similar degrees, then they HAVE to be similar triangles!"

I pumped my fists into the air.  I was triumphant.  I had won.  I had beat the geometry trolls.  Rachel wasn't really all that convinced, so she looked up the answer in the back of the book.  Sure enough,  I was right.  Of course, the back of the book didn't explain why I was right, and she still shook her head at me.

Rachel: "I still don't understand."

Sigh.  And then I broke down and told her the truth.  I haven't done geometry in 20 years, not since I was a sophomore in high school.  And when I say I've not done geometry in 20 years, I mean I haven't even given a triangle a second glance, much less that ol' Pythagorean Theorem.  And while I'm sure there really are people out there, other than math teachers who do use geometry in real life, I couldn't name one person. 

I suppose if she was going to bake triangle cookies of different sizes and needed to order specialty boxes that would allow for packing room inside, she might need geometry to get the boxes similarly sized. 

Or she could just stick with normal cookies and normal boxes.  Geometry trolls be derned; just pass the class.

No School?

Teenagers will do anything to get out of school.

The January Snowfall

It wasn't a blizzard; although the weathermen tried to say it a few times.  When the wind isn't blowing the snow sideways at 45mph, it doesn't qualify as a blizzard, in my meteorological experience.  It started as a typical Oklahoma ice storm, the kind of ice storm where you get machine gunned down by tiny crystals from the sky.  The kids always try to go outside during the ice storms, but are back in within minutes feeling bruised in the face. 

Because getting machine gunned down by Mother Nature and her peeps doesn't feel good.  Heh.  But the ice would let up a bit and the kids would rush outside, convinced they could take it.  "Get the sled out!  Holy cow, this is the 3rd time we've gotten to use it this winter!"

If we Oklahomans were used to this ice stuff and could actually drive upon it, we'd have taken the kids to a cool hill somewhere with their sled (notice how I keep saying "sled" and not "sleds" - plural - even though we have plural kids in the neighborhood...in OK, it's just unnecessary for every family to buy a sled to use once a year, at the most, so the kids all take turns on the cool neighbors' sled).  But alas, we parents don't like to die so the kids just have to sled down the driveways and into the streets.  Kevin had issues with this, as there were cars coming and going.  Eh. They lived.

And then early Friday morning, the snowflakes started.  And it was absolutely beautiful.  Just a nice steady snowfall, with monstrous flakes and hardly any wind.  And it snowed all stinkin' day. 

How awesome is this?  This never happens in Oklahoma - thick snow drifting toward the ground. 

And then today, the sun peeked out and the temperatures creeped up to a whopping 30.  Snow shovels (again, we don't have one because why?) were brought out and the driveways were scraped.  Because otherwise, you get a nice sheet of ice that stays for a while.

You can't really see too well, but the tree is completely encased in ice.  I tried a photography-creative shot here, but it doesn't do it justice!

Where was Paul?  Oh, he came out a time or two.  We'd huff and puff to get him bundled up, he would clomp outside, he would fall down in the snow and then he'd want to come in.  I'll make him go out tomorrow and take pictures - "Paul, you will not come inside until I have 5 shots of you having fun...get to it now."

Christmas Day 2009

As the blizzard swept through our state on Christmas Eve, it was pretty obvious by late afternoon that no one was going anywhere for Christmas.  No grandparents, on any side, no Mass, no nothing. 

And I won't lie.  A calm spread over me with this realization.  We couldn't go anywhere.  There was no timetables to follow, no schedules to keep, no worrying about one Christmas running into another Christmas.  No dashing about the city from one place to another (although the reality of it is that we've spread Christmas out nicely over the past few years so there is no real dashing anywhere...but somehow the panicky feeling has never left me). 

And I loved it.  And the kids loved it.

Although the kids loved it for very different reasons.  And I truely hope that when they look back on their favorite Christmases, they remember this one because of the snow (according to the weather people, Oklahomans have only woken up to snow on the ground on Christmas morning 6 times in the past 106 years).  It was their white Christmas.

The sun came out full force that Christmas morning, which made the snow all the more beautiful.  We opened up Santa presents and other presents bright and early. 

Side note here...and an ironic one too...the one year, I repeat, the one year I go bonkers about the materialistic crap these kids get and stick to my vow to only get them a couple presents instead of more because "hey, they've got the grandparents, and aunts and uncles and quite frankly, that's plenty"...yeah, the one year I stick to the few presents idea is the one Christmas we get snowed in and can't get to the grandparents.  And you know what?  I think the kids would agree that the snow was the best present of all.

My adult neighbor texted me at 9am to challenge the kids to a snowman competition.  They were already out there as were the neighbor kids.  It was in and out all day long.  Cold fingers and cold toes. 

And it was the best Christmas.

Twas the Day Before Christmas

I woke up to the wind slamming little tiny ice pellets into our bedroom windows, which face north.  And not a gentle "tap-tap-tap."  It was machine gunfire.  Daisy and I stretch and got up.  I went to let her out back and when I opened up that door, which faces north, that dog door just blew straight up and didn't go back down.

The dog was not amused.  I ended up having to take her to the front where the wind wasn't a direct blast.

That should have been a sign of weather to come.  But this is Oklahoma and the weather doesn't follow signage or directions of any kind. 

But the ice pellets turned to flakes and for the whole of Christmas Eve, it got whiter and whiter. 

The dog thoroughly enjoyed the snow.  As you can see...

Little black dog with white spots!

Paul enjoyed it for moments at a time.  He kept running back to the front porch where the wind gusts wouldn't slam the snow/ice into his face.

It wasn't so much that there was snow/ice falling...in fact, there was NO snow/ice falling.  Snow/ice was blowing horizontal at 40 miles per hour.  It made for some good face making.

I included this picture to point out something.  It was cold.  24 degrees is nothing if the sun is out and the wind isn't blowing snow/ice into your face at 40 miles per hour.  It may appear that my daughter isn't suitably dressed here, but let me explain.  She had 2 pair of pajama flannels under her yellow jeans (which is why they're not buttoned, because they are skinny jeans to begin with and not meant to be stuffed with extra layers - I encouraged her to layer up with my bigger size jeans in the future), three shirts under that hoodie, gloves and her lumberjack hat on.  She was probably fairly warm for a bit.

The joy of snowballs.  Paul was being trained in the art.

Now this picture made the cut because it was taken in sequence with the one above and the ones below.  In the other pics, you can see the car in the background.  But for a moment when those 40 mph winds actually gust up a bit more and stir up the snow, it was a true whiteout.

I like the shades.  That's my boy.

The kids went in and out several times that day, braving the weather.  Uncle Jason drove over and didn't get to leave until late the next morning.  Highways were closed, people were stranded and our favorite line out of the evening news (aside from how quickly they dubbed this "Christmas Blizzard '09") was "if you get stranded, just go befriend someone and get out of the cold...knock on doors, befriend people."  Okay, I know it's Oklahoma and we are a fairly friendly bunch (ask anyone), but I doubt very many people are opening up their homes to perfect strangers on Christmas Eve.  That's just asking to be on Dateline's Unsolved Crimes. 

Gross but Funny

Rachel made Andy sanitize his hands with Purell tonight before he could hug her goodnight.


Why?


Because when I told him to hug her goodnight, he had his hands down the front of his pants.  Checking to make sure his package was still there, I'm assuming.  And Rachel stared at him for a moment and just as he pulled those hands out and started toward her for the hug, she shrieks that there is no way he is hugging her until he washes his hands.


Apparently, Rachel doesn't realize that his hands are in his pants often enough that she's probably been hugged with "package hands" before.  Lots before.


She handed him the Purell.



Andy dutifully Purelled his hands and they hugged goodnight.  She turned and walked away and he promptly slid his hand down the back of his pants to dig at his hiney.  

And then chased her down.  He didn't get her with hiney hands but "gross, now my doorknob has your butt all over it!"


Ah, yes, these are my spawn.

The Party He Won't Forget (I hope)

It's a Pokemon party!

My Andrew turned seven last month and for some odd reason, I felt that this was the year that he needed a way cool birthday party (I seem to recall feeling all nostalgic when Rachel turned seven too).

So, what's a Pokemon party, I hear you asking?

Pokemon are little Japanese creations - "pocket monsters" - and the show revolves around some kids who catch them all and train the little critters to battle.  Please don't ask me to explain much more than that because I honestly just don't get it (probably in the same way my parents didn't understand the Smurfs).  Anyhoo, the rage has been to collect and trade Pokemon cards (think baseball cards, only Japanese animation money makers), so I made the birthday invitations look like a Pokemon card (thank you Rachel for finding me the website to do this nonsense). 

Then I went and ordered 83 little creatures off of eBay, so that the kids could "catch them all" at the party.  Look at these tiny things and you really can't argue that they're kind of cute.  That yellow one in the center?  He's called a Pikachu and he is actually quite adorable.  Unfortunately, my order didn't make it from Hong Kong in time for the party, so the night before, Kevin and I went barging into a local seller's house to fill our immediate Poke-needs (the seller was overly gracious and probably thought we were somewhat crazy, but hey.).


And how do you catch these little creatures?  Well, with a Pokeball, of course.

I was forced to make my own Pokeballs by painting plastic balls and sadly, they didn't hold up in the clutches of 17 kiddos.  Live and learn...next time, I'll plan better...wait, next time?  Ha! 


So 17 kids invaded my home and about that time, I turned the festivities over to Rachel and Kathryn, who dressed up like the villans on the show, Team Rocket, who always try to steal other people's Pokemon instead of just catching their own like everybody else has to do - stinkin' cheaters.

And these two girls did a fabulous job of running the show.  First they ran over to the park near our house and hid all those itsy bitsy Pokemon and then came back to gather the kids.

They herded them over to the park, where the kids searched high and low for inanimate objects about an inch tall....it wasn't a small park either.  And if a kid found a Pokemon, he had to make sure that Team Rocket didn't catch them and steal their Pokemon.  I think Rachel and Kathryn enjoyed this part a little too much.

But they made sure that every kid has at least 2 to take home with them - by sitting those kids down and stealing from the ones with a lot and giving to the ones with none or one.  Very Robin Hood.

And although this had nothing to do with Pokemon, the trampoline was a huge hit, especially when we threw in balloons for them to jump on and pop.

More or less, the whole party was chaotic and a bit on the loony side.  But one of the kids has already asked me if we can do it again next year for Andy's birthday.  I'll take that as a compliment, but I don't think Andy's getting another extravagant party for quite some time.

Scratch Cake

Meet Chef Rachipoo.


As I stated the day I saw her in the chef uniform, "aw, she looks like a real person." Odd feeling, seeing your kid in the role of a person rather than the traditional role of kiddo.

Chef Rachel was ready to bake and lucky for her, there was a birthday on the horizon - Grandma Marilyn's birthday. So Chef Rachel scrounged up a cake recipe on the internet and a frosting recipe too and put on her uniform and got to work. She wasn't going to just bake a cake...she was baking a cake from scratch.

So there I was, snapping photos and squawking at the other kids and I kept hearing her say something about knees and claws. She'd said this at another time, also in the kitchen and also when she was getting ready to bake, so I finally asked her what on earth knees and claws had to do with anything.


"Mees in plaus," she says in her superior way. "It means to get all your ingredients measured out into little bowls so that it's all ready for cooking." Ah, okay, so "knees and claws" is actually "mise en place" (everything in it's place). Something those of us NOT on the culinary tract would know about. Knees and claws indeed.


Good thing I invested in a KitchenAid mixer last year when I won that gift card online to Amazon. Yessiree.

I told Rachel for Christmas I would give her a drawer in the kitchen where she could slowly acquire and store the wares of her trade. You would not believe how excited the girl got over the prospect of her own drawer and her own kitchen things. Sheesh, if I'd know that's what motivates her, I'd have given her a drawer a while back.
.
I'd like to think I've gotten a bit comfortable with myself when I can post a picture of me shoving frosting in my face like I'm five. All in the name of making sure the birthday girl doesn't get ill or anything.

Seriously, is the above picture just not the craziest thing you've seen? There's this person in a uniform totally frosting a cake.

And it was fabulous. Moist and light and the frosting was so incredible (as evidenced by that photo of me above).

I don't think my kid Rachel could do this, but this Rachel person sure did.

No Words

Okay, a few words. It's like a Where's Waldo picture. And yes, she's 15 which I think explains everything.

Dishes With Rachel

**brought to you by RealTimeUpdates - blogging as the action happens**

"I hate dishes," said the resident teenager.
I hate dishes too. Which is why I'm passing a couple nights a week on to you.

"Aggck! The water's hot!"
So turn the faucet a little to the right, darling.

"Oh gross, I was touching something awful and gross and I don't know what it is!"
It probably is nasty and I've done my fair share of nasty dishes.

"Oh gah! Cup of mystery...what is this? Oh, good, it was chocolate milk and not nasty either."
Score.

"Gah! I smell like bacon now."
Better you than me.

"Ooh, ooh. I touched it! Mom, there is, like, rotten milk all over everything."
Well, then, you shouldn't pour the nasty cups out until the sink is cleared of everything else. Duh.

"Ouch!"
You know, if you turned it just a little to the right...

"Do I have to do this pan too?"
Sigh.

"Gah!"
Right back at ya, kid.

"Ugh, I only have one more cup! Encore, encore!"
Okay, whatever.

"Hey, what did I say? Get out of the dishwasher!"
Well, Daisy does like drippings.

"Man, there is so much water on the floor."
Sigh.

Oh Rachel, Wake Up and Go To School

So this here would by my first spawn.


And she's a bit nervous this evening about starting a new high school. Again. Last year was freshman year at a new school and this sophomore year is at a new school.

Not totally new, in the sense that she already has friends there. Sort of like last year, when she already had friends then too. But newness is newness and I can't make light of that situation.

But this is my kid - the one I raised to be everything I am not (minus the selfish, self-centered bit, it's hard to break the cycle there). She's self-confident, as evidenced by the triple bajillion photos she's taken of herself and posted online for the world to see. She can laugh at herself (remember lice, Rachel?). She can make friends fairly easily and she is grounded in what she expects out of friendship and what she will not tolerate in nasty people.

And of course, the thing that I had zero part in whatsoever but like to take credit for nourishing, she's dern pretty (I had my very own, live Barbie doll).

So she has no real reason to be nervous. None whatsoever.


So get over it, kid.

Family Affairs

Forgive my absence here...it's been crazy. Wedding showers, end of summer term, kids, laundry, dishes, sleepovers, good times. And to boost, I'm headed to Montana on Tuesday for 10 days and while I will physically have time to catch up on photo editing and posting, the reality of the situation is that I will be in MONTANA. Big Sky Country is not known for it's cell service or internet providers (sorry you Montanans, but my previous experiences with your state have not been technologically favorable). Alas, you never know - we might stumble across a grizzly family with DSL. I'll be sure to post about it if that comes up.

Allrighty. In more current news, my brother and sister-in-law had a wedding last night. And it was just fun, fun, fun once the stresses were over and done with. Paul was hit with an asthma attack and Kevin, my ever-so-social butterfly, graciously offered to stay home and forgo the wedding experience. What a trooper, I tell you.

Andy was the ring bearer. I actually don't have any fabulous pictures of him all decked out, so I'll get one up when the formal pics come in via my sister-in-law. But I absolutely must share a pure Andy moment...actually, it's more of a pure ring-bearer-flower-girl-they-are-both-six-years-old moment, but I like to think Andy's special this way.

Flower girl and Andy walking down the aisle. She's tossing petals. I hear him growl at her, "Don't throw those on me." She gets a sassy look on her face and says "I can throw them wherever I want to." Andy scowls in pure Andy fashion and says again "Well, don't do it to me."

As they walked down the aisle. Wedding perfection!

My two oldest children proved to be magic on the dance floor. Pure magic. The dj started up with some thumping song and the two of them ran out there. I followed with my camera and tried to stop the laughter and tears long enough to take these.


Who taught this kid to dance?


Oh, his sister? Yes, but she has 8 years experience on him and I'm not sure she looked as Travolta-esque as he did.


The kid has moves. Or, as he puts it, "I've got skills."


Seriously, this is not a genetic thing. I don't dance and I've seen Kevin do the sprinkler and a few other bizarre moves, but I don't think Kevin's ever grooved for a long period of time.


Should I sign him up for Dancing with the Stars? Maybe his star partner could be iCarly.


The best part about owning an awesome camera (even if you're still learning how to use it) is that people go ahead and allow you to be the unpaid, unprofessional photographer for the evening. And no one's trying to get YOU into the pictures.

But I went ahead and handed the camera over to Andy and told him to take a shot of mother and daughter because we are "hawt people." And "hawt people" are good sports about things like this. For one single shot!