Yesterday, a perfect summer Saturday, my Boyz and I drove out to the Berkshires for some kayaking. Of course there is a #kayaking story. It doesn't rival the #putyourkidsonthebus story but it's close: I got into the double kayak (these are inflatable kayaks, sort of like kayak shaped rafts) with Finbar in the front. Jack gets his own kayak. No one had warned that the double kayak, which is sized for two adults, might be hard for a relatively small, older woman to navigate with a 75 pound 8 year old not paddling in the bow. In fact, it was not hard: it was impossible to navigate.
Finn and I meandered down the river, just doing what the kayak wanted to do, since we had no control over it, and Jack paddled ahead. We got sucked into the middle of this big extended family traveling with a 14 year old know-it-all boy who kept giving me tips on paddling when he wasn't squirting me with his water gun. I didn't for one SECOND hope that his kayak capsized and he drowned. Not for one second.
The weather was perfect and we went down our first set of 'rapids' (this was, after all, a family-friendly, self-guided trip) and caught up to Jack. And THEN we hit the second set of rapids, which was comprised of 3 inches of water over lots of rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. Finn and I got stuck. We rocked to get free and got stuck again. And again. Now we are the last kayak of 2 busloads of people on this part of the river. We can't see anyone else around. Jack tried to wait, but continued downstream.
After multiple attempts at getting the stupid kayak to stop grounding on rocks and to free it once it did ground itself, and determining that there was some sort of a rock magnet in it, I decided to get out of the boat and then drag it off of the rocky part, which is harder than it sounds because the current is very strong and the water is very shallow and the rocks are very slippery and I am very old. Also, about now, Finn starts FREAKING OUT. He is screaming and crying and saying things like "CALL DAD! CALL HIM RIGHT. NOW!", which I might have done had my phone not been locked in the car for safekeeping and if we were not a 2 hour drive from home. So I tell Finn to calm down and we will be FINE and just stay in the boat and look! we're almost in the calm, deep water and then I lost hold of the effing boat. I watch Finn float downstream. A passing freight train drowns out his screams. With my life jacket on, I thought that perhaps I could get buoyant enough to float to him, however, because the water was so shallow, that wasn't happening either.
With great effort, I manage to traverse the rocks and get to the calm water and grab the boat and get back into it. Finn has lost one paddle, which we really didn't need, because he wasn't using it anyway. Nonetheless, some college kids partying on a bunch of tubes and rafts had retrieved it and returned it to us as we made our way down the river.
After a bit, we see a woman in a kayak from our group paddling towards us. She is wearing a sash that says 'Bride to Be.' She gets to our kayak and says "Are your the McCarthys?" Dear God. After affirming that we were, indeed, she told us that Jack, initially quite stoic, had become very concerned when Finn and I were stuck on the rocks for probably about 27 hours. So, he befriended a floating bachelorette party. Yes, he did. They adopted him as their mascot and kept his spirits up and pulled over to the shore to wait for us while the Bride to Be paddled back upstream to intercept us.
All of this is true.
We finally reached the designated snack stop on the river and were told that we had only three more miles to go. Only?
Thankfully, the last three miles were pleasant and without incident.
On the drive home, I asked the Boyz what they would like to do for an adventure next Saturday. After a bit, Jack said, "Maybe we can just go to the pool at the Y."
Nah. I'll think of something.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Thursday, July 9, 2015
The Trials and Tribulations of Summer Vacation
Before I get back to work being critical of the Waltham School Committee and the WPS Superintendent and people who post anonymously and everything that bugs me in general, allow me to just offer up some Scenes of Summer Vacations Past so that you may read about them and be smug, because you would never be as stupid as I have been when it comes to summer vacations.
We are very very fortunate to have a friend who owns a cottage on the Cape and who allows us to use it for one week each summer. The cottage is in Popponesset, which is sort of like a mythical Leave-it-to-Beaver-ville where the kids ride bikes to a pick-up softball game at the Community Center each morning and families swim in the gentle surf of the Vineyard Sound each afternoon and the parents, with red Solo cups in hand, walk to the Marketplace with the kids in the evening to listen to live music and eat lobster rolls and ice cream and play mini-golf. Except that it really does exist.
Having gone here every year since my dear friend somehow thought that it would be a good idea to allow me to bring actual real children to her charming cottage, I have some advice.
Tip Number One: If you have a two year old, and are pregnant, it's not a good idea to bring the two year old to the cottage without his dad and then invite your uncle. Because the two year old will think that your uncle, whom he has met only once or twice, is some sort of replacement for Daddy, and no amount of cell phone calls will convince him otherwise. He will refuse to be bought, even though your uncle tries very hard, and will literally attach himself to you, which is uncomfortable, since you are, after all, 32 weeks pregnant. Once Daddy arrives, the two year old will ignore you for a week. Which is actually ok.
Tip Number Two: When vacationing with a three year old and a baby, DO NOT forget the potty seat. If you do, your spouse will be required to drive all over the Cape looking for a store that sells potty seats and, when he finds one, your toddler will refuse to use it because it is not 'his' potty seat.
Tip Number Three: If there is a little cottage not far from the one that you are staying in that has a hand-written sign in front of it advertising "experienced babysitter available", take down the sign, call immediately, and replace the sign the day that you leave.
Tip Number Four: If you buy a fancy new bike rack to transport the bikes to the Cape, make sure that you break in the bike rack before you drive to the Cape and one of the bikes flies off of the rack on Route 24 and your kids watch out the car window as three tractor trailers drive over it, causing your oldest child to say "I never really liked that bike, anyway."
Tip Number Five: If the cottage where you are staying doesn't have a washing machine, find out where the closest laundromat is BEFORE you go.
And, finally, for your reading pleasure, here is a tale of what actually happened when we stayed (overnight) at a very swanky resort one year as a family getaway: When we arrived, we were delighted to see a menu of options for the kids. So, we registered the kids for some of the activities, and booked dinner for the two of us at the resort's best restaurant. The time for the kid's night out arrived. I walked the kids to the resort bus and spoke to the driver and asked him to take the kids to the Kids' Night Out on the other side of the resort. The driver said that that wasn't a problem and the kids, ages 7 and 10 (lest you think that I am even more irresponsible than I actually am), boarded the bus and excitedly said goodbye. I went back to join my husband for a big-arse martini on the veranda. After a bit, we were seated for dinner and my phone rang. I answered, and it was the Kids' Night Out supervisor. "Is there a problem?" I asked. "Um. No," she said, "It's just that no one has ever just sent their kids on the bus before." No one. Ever. We are the worst parents in the world EVER. "So, do your kids have any allergies? And do they want plain or pepperoni pizza?" Questions answered (No and Plain), we continued our dinner. So as not to be castigated, we finished dinner and then boarded the bus to fetch our kids from the Kids' Night Out; the only option being to let them find their way back on the bus, but that seemed wrong. The bus was filled with people who had been drinking longer and more than we had. The bus driver dropped us off where we thought we should be; when we couldn't find the KNO, Kevin sprinted across the drive to flag down the bus to have the drive help us find the location. It was pitch black. With the help of all of the drunken people on the bus, we finally saw the path to the cabin where the KNO was. We went in to collect our kids, and they told us that they had been dropped off at the health club, not at the cabin, and so had missed a lot of the activities while they waited patiently for someone to come and take them to KNO. Finally the mess was figured out and that was when the KNO supervisor called me to ask about pizza toppings, failing to mention that my kids had been at a health club unsupervised for 45 minutes. We waited in the dark for the bus to bring us back to the Mansion and then went to our room and woke up for croquet in the morning.
Moral of the story: put your kids on the bus. They will have an adventure. And always finish the martini.
We are very very fortunate to have a friend who owns a cottage on the Cape and who allows us to use it for one week each summer. The cottage is in Popponesset, which is sort of like a mythical Leave-it-to-Beaver-ville where the kids ride bikes to a pick-up softball game at the Community Center each morning and families swim in the gentle surf of the Vineyard Sound each afternoon and the parents, with red Solo cups in hand, walk to the Marketplace with the kids in the evening to listen to live music and eat lobster rolls and ice cream and play mini-golf. Except that it really does exist.
Having gone here every year since my dear friend somehow thought that it would be a good idea to allow me to bring actual real children to her charming cottage, I have some advice.
Tip Number One: If you have a two year old, and are pregnant, it's not a good idea to bring the two year old to the cottage without his dad and then invite your uncle. Because the two year old will think that your uncle, whom he has met only once or twice, is some sort of replacement for Daddy, and no amount of cell phone calls will convince him otherwise. He will refuse to be bought, even though your uncle tries very hard, and will literally attach himself to you, which is uncomfortable, since you are, after all, 32 weeks pregnant. Once Daddy arrives, the two year old will ignore you for a week. Which is actually ok.
Tip Number Two: When vacationing with a three year old and a baby, DO NOT forget the potty seat. If you do, your spouse will be required to drive all over the Cape looking for a store that sells potty seats and, when he finds one, your toddler will refuse to use it because it is not 'his' potty seat.
Tip Number Three: If there is a little cottage not far from the one that you are staying in that has a hand-written sign in front of it advertising "experienced babysitter available", take down the sign, call immediately, and replace the sign the day that you leave.
Tip Number Four: If you buy a fancy new bike rack to transport the bikes to the Cape, make sure that you break in the bike rack before you drive to the Cape and one of the bikes flies off of the rack on Route 24 and your kids watch out the car window as three tractor trailers drive over it, causing your oldest child to say "I never really liked that bike, anyway."
Tip Number Five: If the cottage where you are staying doesn't have a washing machine, find out where the closest laundromat is BEFORE you go.
And, finally, for your reading pleasure, here is a tale of what actually happened when we stayed (overnight) at a very swanky resort one year as a family getaway: When we arrived, we were delighted to see a menu of options for the kids. So, we registered the kids for some of the activities, and booked dinner for the two of us at the resort's best restaurant. The time for the kid's night out arrived. I walked the kids to the resort bus and spoke to the driver and asked him to take the kids to the Kids' Night Out on the other side of the resort. The driver said that that wasn't a problem and the kids, ages 7 and 10 (lest you think that I am even more irresponsible than I actually am), boarded the bus and excitedly said goodbye. I went back to join my husband for a big-arse martini on the veranda. After a bit, we were seated for dinner and my phone rang. I answered, and it was the Kids' Night Out supervisor. "Is there a problem?" I asked. "Um. No," she said, "It's just that no one has ever just sent their kids on the bus before." No one. Ever. We are the worst parents in the world EVER. "So, do your kids have any allergies? And do they want plain or pepperoni pizza?" Questions answered (No and Plain), we continued our dinner. So as not to be castigated, we finished dinner and then boarded the bus to fetch our kids from the Kids' Night Out; the only option being to let them find their way back on the bus, but that seemed wrong. The bus was filled with people who had been drinking longer and more than we had. The bus driver dropped us off where we thought we should be; when we couldn't find the KNO, Kevin sprinted across the drive to flag down the bus to have the drive help us find the location. It was pitch black. With the help of all of the drunken people on the bus, we finally saw the path to the cabin where the KNO was. We went in to collect our kids, and they told us that they had been dropped off at the health club, not at the cabin, and so had missed a lot of the activities while they waited patiently for someone to come and take them to KNO. Finally the mess was figured out and that was when the KNO supervisor called me to ask about pizza toppings, failing to mention that my kids had been at a health club unsupervised for 45 minutes. We waited in the dark for the bus to bring us back to the Mansion and then went to our room and woke up for croquet in the morning.
Moral of the story: put your kids on the bus. They will have an adventure. And always finish the martini.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Why I Hate Summer
That's too harsh, of course. I love summer: going to the beach, working in the garden, sunset at 8:30PM (instead of 3:30 PM that we get in December), Red Sox games on TV, bike riding, swimming, eating ice cream, outdoor movies, cooking on the grill, gin and tonics, the Waltham Fields CSA, our week at the Cape each year, road trips….
HOWEVER -- and there had to be a catch, of course -- camp drives me insane each and every year.
First is the Signing-up For the Camp. We are so very fortunate here in Waltham to have a Parks and Rec department that puts together wonderful camps that the kids love and which is half or even a third of the cost of other camps in the area. Prospect Hill and Kaleidoscope have saved our family gobs of money (compared to other camps that our kids attend). And yet, EVEN if I am able to be on the computer at the exact time that the on-line enrollment begins, I am still scrambling to get both kids at the same camp during the same weeks. When that happens (and it has happened), it is so much better than hitting the lottery that I just want to hug someone (and that doesn't happen often. I'm not very huggy.) This year, I was away for work and unable to get on the computer for on-line registration and then was unable, even, to stand in line at Old South at 7AM with le tout de Waltham for the in-person registration. And so, I got one week at Prospect Hill (and was grateful for that.)
So, once I know which week or weeks my kids will be attending Waltham P&R camps, that leaves the rest of the summer to fill in. We do spend one week each summer on the Cape, so there is the scrambling to fill in around that week. The Boyz this year are also doing a week of Flag Football and two weeks of Basketball camp, in Belmont and in Newton, respectively. Why not sports camps in Waltham? Because of issue number two.
The SECOND issue is the TIME of the camps. Many, many camps, including Waltham sports camps, end at 3PM. Who gets done work at 3PM? And even if work is done at 3, how does one get to the camp to collect the campers at the speed of light? I am very, very lucky to do much of my work from home, and much of that by computer and by phone; I have become adept at doing conference calls in the car with earbuds and my kids silenced into submission with screens in the back seat or literally locked out of the house until the call is over. Even my work, though, requires that I go out of town and then my husband, whose work is not particularly flexible, has to manage. So, I spend the entire summer beginning work at 7AM and working until 4PM and then again in the evening and, when I am out of town, we are at the mercy of our neighbors and friends who can pick up the kids for us or my husband is forced to do the walk of shame, leaving his workplace early, with his head down, hoping no one notices.
As I mentioned, we are lucky to have flexibility in work hours. Many of our friends are not so lucky and so end up spending obscene amounts of money on things known as 'pre-camp' and 'post-camp'. It's not enough to charge $300 or more per week for a camp: if you need coverage during the actual hours that people actually work, it's going to cost another $100+ per week. In fact, the COST is an issue in and of itself. This summer is a short season, since the kids didn't get out of school until June 25th. We have one vacation week at the end of July. So that leaves us with eight weeks of camp. As I said, getting into a Waltham P&R camp is a wonderful thing: $120/kid. The Y, for my 8 year old, is $256 for four weeks and, for my 11 year old, is $275 for four weeks. This week at Belmont was $240 per kid. The next two weeks for basketball camp in Newton, it was $560 per kid for the two weeks. I think that that adds up to something like twelve billion drachmas. Or, at least a nice trip to Europe, or to a Scandinavian country where all of this camp is probably free and transportation is included.
Yet another issue is the DOCUMENTATION required, with some camps being more egregious in their documentation requirements than others (I am looking at you, YMCA.) There is more documentation required to attend camp at the Y than there is to work for Homeland Security (and I say this because I have a friend who works for Homeland Security, so that means that I KNOW.) BIRTH certificates and IMMUNIZATION records and RECENT PHYSICALS and WAIVERS of LIABILITY and PROOF of MEDICAL INSURANCE and NAMES of the DENTIST and proof of use of FLUORIDATED water and BPA-FREE water bottles. It doesn't take me this long to do our taxes.
After all of the timing is worked out and we have secured drop offs and pick ups and submitted the proper documents and paid for all of it with credit cards, which will never have a zero balance, even in drachmas, the next issue is actually GETTING to the camp. And if the camp is in Waltham, it is probably along the dreaded Beaver Street/Lexington Street corridor. Which means that, if you leave even one second after 8AM, you will be sitting in traffic for EVER and you will be late to work, anyway. That is because, along the B-L Corridor, there is the Girl Scout Camp, camps at Bentley, Running Brook Camp, Prospect Hill, camps at Kennedy Middle School and at the High School, and camps at the Y. Add in all of the people who are going to work, and the camps that take place at Veterans Field or the Gann Academy on Forest Street, and you have approximately 8 million people, all of whom have whiny kids in the car and who are late for work. This is replicated, of course, in all of the surrounding communities, so, even though my kids are at camp in Belmont this week, that didn't mean that we didn't witness a woman in a vehicle gesturing wildly at a man in another vehicle at the intersection of Common, Leonard and Concord Streets this morning (that railroad bridge is obnoxious.)
So, did I just mention WHINY KIDS? Yes, that is another reason that I hate the summer. Since my kids attend the Y after-school program during the school year and since we spend a lot of time at the outdoor pool at the Y, I do my best to limit the number of weeks that they spend at the Y for camp. And they still complain and whine. I picked them up after their first day at Flag Football camp in Belmont yesterday, chosen because they have played flag football in the fall in Belmont for the last two years, and the FIRST THING my older son said was "I don't want to come to camp in Belmont anymore because I don't know anybody." He also doesn't want to go to camp at the Y where he knows EVERYBODY, so if someone can tell me what I am supposed to do, please do! I am all ears.
Ah, yes, and then the LUNCHES! The lunches that, depending on the camp, must be 'peanut free' or must have a SNACK packed SEPARATELY and must contain the food that the kids will eat, which is NOTHING because they eat THREE THINGS. During the school year, my kids buy lunch at school and I know that they are choosing the Sun Butter Sandwich or the Bagel, and yet, I don't see it, so I can ignore it, and every so often one of them will actually eat something nutritional and mention it at dinner. The stress of the lunches is something that pains me greatly. And it pains me even more when they don't eat what I have packed. Ungrateful wretches.
Throw in some LOST WATER BOTTLES and towels and BATHING SUITS and did I remember the SUNSCREEN? and, well, this is a recipe for disaster.
So this, Gentle Readers, is why I hate summer. Guess that I'll get the kids in a few hours and then pour a generous gin and tonic, sit on the deck, and contemplate my garden.
Cheers!
HOWEVER -- and there had to be a catch, of course -- camp drives me insane each and every year.
First is the Signing-up For the Camp. We are so very fortunate here in Waltham to have a Parks and Rec department that puts together wonderful camps that the kids love and which is half or even a third of the cost of other camps in the area. Prospect Hill and Kaleidoscope have saved our family gobs of money (compared to other camps that our kids attend). And yet, EVEN if I am able to be on the computer at the exact time that the on-line enrollment begins, I am still scrambling to get both kids at the same camp during the same weeks. When that happens (and it has happened), it is so much better than hitting the lottery that I just want to hug someone (and that doesn't happen often. I'm not very huggy.) This year, I was away for work and unable to get on the computer for on-line registration and then was unable, even, to stand in line at Old South at 7AM with le tout de Waltham for the in-person registration. And so, I got one week at Prospect Hill (and was grateful for that.)
So, once I know which week or weeks my kids will be attending Waltham P&R camps, that leaves the rest of the summer to fill in. We do spend one week each summer on the Cape, so there is the scrambling to fill in around that week. The Boyz this year are also doing a week of Flag Football and two weeks of Basketball camp, in Belmont and in Newton, respectively. Why not sports camps in Waltham? Because of issue number two.
The SECOND issue is the TIME of the camps. Many, many camps, including Waltham sports camps, end at 3PM. Who gets done work at 3PM? And even if work is done at 3, how does one get to the camp to collect the campers at the speed of light? I am very, very lucky to do much of my work from home, and much of that by computer and by phone; I have become adept at doing conference calls in the car with earbuds and my kids silenced into submission with screens in the back seat or literally locked out of the house until the call is over. Even my work, though, requires that I go out of town and then my husband, whose work is not particularly flexible, has to manage. So, I spend the entire summer beginning work at 7AM and working until 4PM and then again in the evening and, when I am out of town, we are at the mercy of our neighbors and friends who can pick up the kids for us or my husband is forced to do the walk of shame, leaving his workplace early, with his head down, hoping no one notices.
As I mentioned, we are lucky to have flexibility in work hours. Many of our friends are not so lucky and so end up spending obscene amounts of money on things known as 'pre-camp' and 'post-camp'. It's not enough to charge $300 or more per week for a camp: if you need coverage during the actual hours that people actually work, it's going to cost another $100+ per week. In fact, the COST is an issue in and of itself. This summer is a short season, since the kids didn't get out of school until June 25th. We have one vacation week at the end of July. So that leaves us with eight weeks of camp. As I said, getting into a Waltham P&R camp is a wonderful thing: $120/kid. The Y, for my 8 year old, is $256 for four weeks and, for my 11 year old, is $275 for four weeks. This week at Belmont was $240 per kid. The next two weeks for basketball camp in Newton, it was $560 per kid for the two weeks. I think that that adds up to something like twelve billion drachmas. Or, at least a nice trip to Europe, or to a Scandinavian country where all of this camp is probably free and transportation is included.
Yet another issue is the DOCUMENTATION required, with some camps being more egregious in their documentation requirements than others (I am looking at you, YMCA.) There is more documentation required to attend camp at the Y than there is to work for Homeland Security (and I say this because I have a friend who works for Homeland Security, so that means that I KNOW.) BIRTH certificates and IMMUNIZATION records and RECENT PHYSICALS and WAIVERS of LIABILITY and PROOF of MEDICAL INSURANCE and NAMES of the DENTIST and proof of use of FLUORIDATED water and BPA-FREE water bottles. It doesn't take me this long to do our taxes.
After all of the timing is worked out and we have secured drop offs and pick ups and submitted the proper documents and paid for all of it with credit cards, which will never have a zero balance, even in drachmas, the next issue is actually GETTING to the camp. And if the camp is in Waltham, it is probably along the dreaded Beaver Street/Lexington Street corridor. Which means that, if you leave even one second after 8AM, you will be sitting in traffic for EVER and you will be late to work, anyway. That is because, along the B-L Corridor, there is the Girl Scout Camp, camps at Bentley, Running Brook Camp, Prospect Hill, camps at Kennedy Middle School and at the High School, and camps at the Y. Add in all of the people who are going to work, and the camps that take place at Veterans Field or the Gann Academy on Forest Street, and you have approximately 8 million people, all of whom have whiny kids in the car and who are late for work. This is replicated, of course, in all of the surrounding communities, so, even though my kids are at camp in Belmont this week, that didn't mean that we didn't witness a woman in a vehicle gesturing wildly at a man in another vehicle at the intersection of Common, Leonard and Concord Streets this morning (that railroad bridge is obnoxious.)
So, did I just mention WHINY KIDS? Yes, that is another reason that I hate the summer. Since my kids attend the Y after-school program during the school year and since we spend a lot of time at the outdoor pool at the Y, I do my best to limit the number of weeks that they spend at the Y for camp. And they still complain and whine. I picked them up after their first day at Flag Football camp in Belmont yesterday, chosen because they have played flag football in the fall in Belmont for the last two years, and the FIRST THING my older son said was "I don't want to come to camp in Belmont anymore because I don't know anybody." He also doesn't want to go to camp at the Y where he knows EVERYBODY, so if someone can tell me what I am supposed to do, please do! I am all ears.
Ah, yes, and then the LUNCHES! The lunches that, depending on the camp, must be 'peanut free' or must have a SNACK packed SEPARATELY and must contain the food that the kids will eat, which is NOTHING because they eat THREE THINGS. During the school year, my kids buy lunch at school and I know that they are choosing the Sun Butter Sandwich or the Bagel, and yet, I don't see it, so I can ignore it, and every so often one of them will actually eat something nutritional and mention it at dinner. The stress of the lunches is something that pains me greatly. And it pains me even more when they don't eat what I have packed. Ungrateful wretches.
Throw in some LOST WATER BOTTLES and towels and BATHING SUITS and did I remember the SUNSCREEN? and, well, this is a recipe for disaster.
So this, Gentle Readers, is why I hate summer. Guess that I'll get the kids in a few hours and then pour a generous gin and tonic, sit on the deck, and contemplate my garden.
Cheers!
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