Mama Bear

Another Meg-ism

Mama bear — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 19:06:04 GMT

I sometimes refer to my children as my "material," and here's a great example of WHY.

Last night we were driving home from a family gathering and Thomas suddenly needed to make a pit stop. We were right by a winery Matt's dad works for, and we knew there was a very nice restaurant right there with a bathroom accessable by the back door -- a quick in and out and we'd be on the road again. When the guys returned, Matt chuckled about a little encounter they had with a patron of the restaurant while waiting for their turn at the urinal.

Did you know that in some upscale restrooms they install a TV at eye-height in front of the urinals so the guys don't have to miss a play in the game? Apparently there was some college football game on and Thomas said, "Look, Daddy, your game!" The man looked at Thomas and Matt and began to ask rather slurrily, "Who you rootin' for? You a 'hio man, or you for USC?"

Matt thought it was funny that there was an exchange of any kind in the bathroom, which as a woman I find funny -- I have had all sorts of great conversations with perfect strangers in restrooms all my life. Another example of vive la diference, eh?

From the backseat Megan gave a little chuckle said, "Why didn't you just go to another one?" ~ meaning another stall, since this one was occupied.

This opened a short discussion about stalls versus urinals, and Matt added, "And this restroom happened to have just one urinal. We were just waiting our turn."

"Oh, I call those Gertrudes," Megan said.

There was a short pause as Matt and I looked at each other, and then we both said, "What do you call Gertrudes?"

"Urinals."

Another pause. Then in stereo: "Why?"

Meg shrugged. "Oh, it just seems like the right thing to call 'em."

Indeed.

And I just call them material.

Why I Have Them

Mama bear — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 21:25:56 GMT

Last night I was reading the third Percy Jackson and the Olympians book aloud to Megan and I came to a description of Poseidon that included a remark about his having laugh lines. Megan turned to me and confided, "I hope I have those when I grow up." She smiled and let the crinkles around her eyes form, then touched my face with a loving hand: "Just like yours, Mom."

Oh, yes, I have laugh lines, my dear. And I treasure them almost as much as I treasure you!

~SMILE!~

Mama bear — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 02:41:19 GMT

It was Megan's first day of school today -- fifth grade, "only one year away from Middle School," she cheerfully told me many times this summer -- and it went beautifully.

The teacher (a friend of mine from Girl Scout leadership meetings) led her 33 students in a rousing game of "Get to Know You" Bingo, challenged each student to create a geometric shape with six straws and "as much string as they needed" to make it 3-D, and demonstrated the turning-off-the-lights technique if the class has to leave the room for any reason. (Er, not all at the same time -- sorry! -- but over the course of the day!) The third thing sounds like a no-big-deal sort of thing, until you hear what happened when the lights went out: I guess RIGHT as she flicked the light switch a fire alarm was pulled somewhere on campus (accidentally, it turns out) but to all involved it sounded like the lights going out set off the cacophony of sirens!

Ah, fifth grade... when else can bingo, straws and fire alarms make the top three stories about what happened at school today?

Girl Scout Camp

Mama bear — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 16:51:04 GMT

Last Sunday I packed up three girls and their assorted belongings and drove an hour and three-quarters to deliver them to Girl Scout Camp. Megan and Kate had been last year, but this was Brianne's first year to sleep in three-sided Adirondack "cabins" and hike up and down dusty hills to various activities and gatherings -- meals, campfire circle, program and crafts. They were in for a world of fun, packed into a week that would fly by and seem like forever, all in one!

The Girl Scout camp is called Kamp Konocti, and it is held each year at the Boy Scouts of America's Masonite Navarro campground. (The campground has been around forever -- last year we visited my parents shortly after Megan got back from camp and my dad rustled around in a stack of pictures to produce a photo from the mid-1950s of himself smiling up from the floor of an awfully familiar looking Adirondak cabin, at the exact same campground!) It is entirely volunteer-run, and the dedication of the administration (Director, nurse, Counselor in Training Advisor, etc.), the Unit Leaders and Counselors, and the three levels of C.I.T.'s was impressive. Seriously -- YOU try to get a couple dozen seven- to fourteen-year-old girls up, dressed, and down a hill to breakfast in the chilly redwood-shaded campsite -- or even more exhausting, those same girls ready for bed and in their bunks in the dark! LOL

The camp lasts for six nights, and the girls are not allowed to talk to anyone from home (unless your mom is one of the many volunteers, in which case you have to refer to her by her camp name -- Elasta Girl, Ziggy, Rafiki, Froggy, Glitter, etc., not "mom" -- or risk having to sing a silly song in front of everyone), except for letters or cards in the mail. They keep the girls so busy there is very little time to get homesick... unless you count the tears that come when the letters are distributed. (My best friend was a counselor again this year, and again in Megan's unit. Apparently the mail gets delivered to camp around 4 PM, which means it doesn't get sorted for camper delivery until after dinner -- a prime hour for getting a little Mommyitis. It became a little easier if they held the mail until breakfast the next day, right before a lineup of exciting activities that were sure to distract the girls from missing home quite as much.)

Each night accomplishment awards are given out to the units -- Clean Cabin Award, Lights Out Award, On Time Award, Girl Scout Way Award, Spirit Award, etc. Megan's group -- Hopi -- won the Spirit Award the first night, on the condition that they stop singing their unit song the entire way through camp as they made their way to or from any area. Apparently they were quite... spirited... and since they were the absolute last campsite, they had a long trek anytime they had to go anywhere. LOL (I wish I could reproduce it here for effect, but I think you'd have to hear it... "Brr, it's cold out here! There must be some HOPI in the atmosphere! I said, Brr! It's COLD out here! There must be some HOPI in the ATMOSPHERE! I said BRRRR!...")

After a week of singing, crafting, and general merriment, camp came to a close. The parents once again made the drive out to camp to pick up their girls -- dusty, tired, hoarse, and chattery girls -- and load up the cars with sleeping bags, pillows, suitcases and sleeping mats -- this time all dusty, damp, and thrown willy-nilly in bags instead of neatly folded, and some belongings in another person's bag entirely. (We lost a jacket, but gained a random sock and a bottle of camping soap. I have yet to come across a mug from the mess kit, too...or take a total inventory of all the clothes, as they are still in the laundry process.) There was the close of camp program, first -- each unit put on a skit, some of which were surprisingly involved and intricate, and the C.I.T.s were awarded ribbons of valor (these are high schoolers who volunteer to assist all week, and they totally deserve all kinds of kudos) -- and then it was mass exodus.

The adult counselors were the last to leave each site, after making sure each girl got signed out safely and all her belongings got hauled down the hill, plus packed up their tents (adults sleep in tents, strung up between the Adirondacks) and double-checked that the site was returned to pristine condition. Because I was picking up Cari and all three girls, I hung out a little longer and actually drove the van up into the camp areas to load up the massive stack of belongings, rather than attempt to tote them armful by armful down the path, around the other campsites, and down the hill to the parking area. (Remember, Megan, Kate and Cari were in the furthest-out campsite!)

It was a circus clown in the car trick to get packed -- we barely got everything and everyone into the van, even after stuffing some things into impossibly small spaces. Kate was sort of wedged in the backseat, stuff piled on the bench seat next to her and a sleeping mat that belongs to another girl in her troop stuffed into the space that the aisle afforded us -- but we had the one who gets carsick in a front seat (with nothing in front of her, and a bag handy) and I could see out the rear-view mirror (but only barely through the thick layer of dust on the rear window!) so we were off~!

On the drive home Cari was dreamily planning her return to civilization -- "First a shower, then a bath, then another shower for EVERYONE! And oh, man, I have to do a nasal wash in the worst way! I have dust EVERYWHERE!" -- and everyone was looking forward to using a flush toilet again. (The bathrooms the girls use all week are called "biffys" and they lack that feature that we take for granted... a water tank, a handle, and the reassuring whoosh of waste going away.) Kate and Brianne were anxious to see Ms. Kitty (and Daddy, of course) and Megan was excited to see Thomas and Daddy. We made one unscheduled stop to settle a tummy and another stop for food -- after the windy road! -- and then we pulled up to our house and did the greet and hug thing before unloading all the stuff and sorting it into two piles: one to take into the house, and one to pack into another van for the remaining drive.

After the hugs and hearing all the funny camp stories and songs ("Hi, my name is Joe, I have a wife, three kids and I work in a button factory..."), the best part of yesterday was when Matt and I went up to go to bed, and I could check on both sleeping kids, safe and sound in their own beds before I went to my own. What could be better in life than that contented feeling -- unless it could possibly be that contented feeling WITHOUT the doggone Joe and the button factory song running through your head??

New Wheels

Mama bear — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 00:24:35 GMT

One of Megan's birthday gifts was a very generous gift certificate to Amazon.com from her Uncle Dan and Tio Randy. Matt and I had been discussing the fact that Meg could really use a next-sized-up bike, but we figured we'd wait until Christmas... nope! The gift certificate has been morphed into a super-cool big bike for a ten year old! And bonus: Megan and Mommy got to put it together! (Daddy was so surprised! LOL)

Total Drama Island

Mama bear — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 15:54:59 GMT

The virus that knocked us all on our -- tushes -- hit Megan with a particularly nasty cough. It was hacking, persistent, barking, and loud, but not productive. And she milked it.

She doesn't like the liquid medicines available to her, objecting to both the grape flavor and the entire family of red flavors -- berry, bubble gum, cherry. Unfortunately, she is not old enough or heavy enough to resonably take most adult preparations, so she chooses to suffer -- loudly.

After two days of constant hacking, I finally told her she needed to take some cough suppressant to give her body a break. "It's not like you're coughing anything up," I said. "You need to stop coughing long enough to get a rest."

We gave her a choice of the stuff we had available and after five minutes of whining, begging, and attempted negotiations ("I'll stop! I'll cough up stuff! Really!") she chose the grape-flavored cough and cold mix, and we poured out her dosage: two teaspoons, which filled a tubular spoon doser to the top.

"THAT MUCH??!"

We assured her that yes, this was the correct amount, and she began the whining, begging, and negotiations again.

"Just get it over with," we told her. "Stop complaining, suck it down, and you can have a drink of whatever you want to get the taste out of your mouth."

She agreed she'd drink some 7-Up, so we set her glass right next to her, handed her the dropper-spoon, and encouraged her again.

She lifted the spoon to her lips, closed her eyes, and froze... "I CAN'T!! I just can't. My body won't LET me!"

We reminded her that she was 10, that she needed the relief, that it was only 2 teaspoons, and she COULD DO IT.

Again we watched as she raised the spoon, closed her eyes, and froze.

There were tears. There was wailing. There was a prolonged session of attempted negotiations. There were more tears. There was more encouragement, more reasoning, more firmness.

Finally -- FINALLY -- after 25 minutes of unbelievable drama -- she took the hated purple stuff.

Tear-stained and exhausted, she accepted a wet washcloth and stretched out on the couch for a rest from the ordeal, and Matt and I exchanged the "OH MY GOD" look so familiar to parents.

The next four hours were blissfully cough-free, or at least less cough-y, and she got a good sized break.... Don't you hate it when your parents were right?

Personalities Revealed: A One Act Play

Mama bear — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 15:46:57 GMT

Scene: Dinner table.

Cast: Megan, age 10; Daddy; Mommy

Action: Megan is allegedly eating, but has her body turned to look out the window.

MEGAN: Hey. Why do birds put their tails up when they land?

DADDY: Probably something to do with the mechanics of flying and landing.

MOMMY: Or maybe it just feels good to them to do that.

MEGAN: Or maybe it's like a sign -- "HEY, EVERYONE! I LANDED!"

And Then He Said, "Two Weeks..."

Mama bear — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 00:02:12 GMT

Both my kids have ADHD, which is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing is their intelligence, energy, and creativity. The curse is their intelligence, energy, and creativity.

ADHD stands for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Think of it as the Ditzy Channel with random abrupt forays into the X-Games, all in High Def.

The attention deficit part is easy to explain: You tell a child to go get their socks, remind them two minutes later that they are indeed going to get their socks, and follow that up two minutes later with a bellowed reminder that they had better be getting their socks. They aren't, naturally. Oh, no. Instead of poking their toes into freshly laundered foot bags they are poking crayons through a guinea pig cage, or picking toenails, or dressing a Barbie that has been naked since 2003: all vital stuff, I give you, but in the meantime the bus has come and gone and Mommy has had another cerebral hemmorage, which makes for a Bad Morning.

Remember high school geometry and that fun word, corollary? Well, there's an exciting corollary to Attention Deficit. Apparently if something is of interest to the child, it can hold their attention. The thing to remember is that socks are never of interest to the child. Neither is homework, eating breakfast, taking a shower, or cleaning a room -- really, anything a parent or teacher type person might require of you. However, if you hand the same child a video game you will not see them again until you have to surgically remove the game from their cold, stiff fingers. The obvious solution is to digitize the child's entire world and make it worth points to get clothing on their bodies, but so far Nintendo has fallen far short of that mark.

Hyperactivity sounds easy enough to understand, right? That's the fidgety kid bouncing off the walls and falling out of his chair at school, jumping the final four - or fourteen - steps down the stairs each morning, right? Not always. Apparently one manifestation of hyperactivity is the inablity to screen thoughts-into-words, or to just be quiet. The child literally can't. Shut. Up.

The good news is that there are several things you can do to help manage ADHD. One is routines, with a steady, recognizable, predictable course of events. Think checklists and agendas. Another is to reduce clutter - especially visual and auditory clutter. High-protein snacks and plenty of water help, too. And of course there are many medical options out there, as well.

One of my children presents as the typical hyper boy child, and he takes a medication that is controversial to some because it is a stimulant. With ADHD, the stimulant effect counteracts the brain's already stimulated responses, and it allows them that tiny window of thinking before they act. It doesn't prevent all impulsive behaviors, any more than eating an apple will prevent all colds, arthritis, and bad hair days... but it does give the kid a chance to try some better choices.

My other child presents typically for a girl with ADHD, with dreaminess and an inability to stop making noise with her mouth, be it talking, singing, humming, or other sounds. Her behavior was risky in the sense that it prevented her from maintaining in the classroom, and it prevented her from interacting in a positive manner with her peers. Her medication was a longer-acting version of the medication her brother was on, and it did help her focus and connect, so it was very effective.

Lately we noticed that our daughter's medications were not as effective, and we took her to talk to the doctor again. The doctor discussed what was going on, and our concerns -- both our daughter's, and our own -- and we decided to try a different medication. The new medication is not a stimulant, and it acts longer -- both positives. And then the doctor said, "So she should be off the old meds for two weeks before we start the new meds."

There was a brief pause while I attempted to process this phrase, and then I slapped him --conversationally -- and said, "What?! Why?!!"

He made some points, which I honestly couldn't tell you right now -- something about giving the new medications a chance to shine, because in comparison to the old stuff the effect is much more subtle, I think -- and we left with a shiny new prescription that we can't use for eleven days and thirteen hours. (And yes, I am counting.)

Day One without the meds we experienced Ditziness and Randomness in equal measures. We also managed to pull an off-the-tracks pocket door out of the wall pocket where it has been wedged for 4 and a half of the five years we've lived here. When asked why, the response was a shrug and a bland, "I don't know." And she didn't. She also didn't remember from minute to minute that that doorway was impassable, and she'd tug and grunt at the stuck door EACH TIME SHE ATTEMPTED TO GO THROUGH THAT DOORWAY. All. Day. Long.

Day Two without the meds we saw Lethargy and her twin sister, Apathy, along with their delighful cousins Ditzy and Random. Daddy got the door back in the wall, and screwed it shut with a bar across the top. The child was puzzled at the irritation that this extra job was causing anyone.

Day Three was mostly spent wandering around the house, not settling long enough to do anything: read, watch TV, or go outside. She also was very tetchy with her brother, who was apparently engineered to Make Her Life Hell. She hasn't brushed her hair effectively in two days ("I DID!" she answers when told to go brush it, and yet the comb and brush have been missing for 48 hours.)

Day Four... well, it's not a stimulant, and I didn't give it to HER, but I can safely say that Messers Bartles and James had a fine business idea back in the 80s! Here's to ADHD, ADD, and B&J!

Birthday Present

Mama bear — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:39:38 GMT

Megan got a birthday present a little early this year. She turns 10 on Monday, and the party is Sunday, but we thought this present deserved a chance to come home to a quieter home for his first few days. Her present? A little guinea pig she's named Percy, after Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Percy is quieter than her first guinea pig, Emily, but he's darling in his own right. He's a deep, dark brown -- nearly black -- on top and a warm, mellow brown on bottom -- like an almond chocolate bar. He's bright-eyed and soft, with a patient dispostion and a surprising fearlessness with regard to boys, cats, and other surprises that abound in our house!

Megan is thrilled, and she's been busy getting to know Percy and learn what Percy likes. We've held him on our chests as we've read out of the first Percy Jackson book, The Lightning Thief, and he seems to enjoy hearing about the demigod who loaned him his name... if gentle little sniffs and wiggles are anything to go by!

The Joy of Reading

Mama bear — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 21:13:08 GMT

Yesterday the mailman walked a package up our front walkway to leave it on our porch, and Megan looked up from her current book to say, "Mom, the post is here."

Mind you, we aren't British; we don't refer to the mail as "post"...but Harry Potter does! And I'm proud to say that we are thorougly a Harry Potter household, with three different books going at once!

The day after school got out for the summer Megan slammed her book shut and announced with a satisfied sigh that she'd finished the final Harry Potter book. An hour later she was curled up in a chair by the window, Book 1 open in her lap. In the last sixteen days she's gone through Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. She's a third of the way through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix... No wonder her lexile scores were off the charts!

(P.S. She does do other things besides read all day, by the way... honest!)

(P.P.S. We're waiting for the complete Percy Jackson and the Olympians series to arrive any day now, too. She and I are going to read those together as a summer project. I can't wait for the "post" to get here!!)

Megan's B-day Request

Mama bear — Tue, 19 May 2009 00:33:03 GMT

It's that time of year again.

For two months each year we get treated to a countdown of how many days we have left to get to Megan's Birthday, the Most High Holiday, June 29th. For example, the last day of school is May 29th, which happens to be only 31 days away from Megan's birthday!

Saturday we went shopping for the birthday goodies -- invites, plates, etc. She chose a random theme, which has proved a bit difficult to provide... for the big 1-0 she's having a Watermelon Party.

(I know. The lady at the party store did that look too: What?)

We had to settle for some generic invitations, but we found some dark green plates and then some smaller pink plates, which we'll put Sharpie "seeds" on. Layered on the pink tablecloth, it should look pretty watermelon-y. We'll serve watermelon -- natch -- and probably find some watermelon flavored candies like Poprocks and gum and Jolly Ranchers as take-home goodies. I think I saw a cake years ago shaped and colored like a watermelon... I'll have to go dig that one up. If I remember correctly it was an ice cream bombe, with chocolate chips for the seeds... Hmmm....

Later that day Meg came downstairs with a list of "suggestions." Here is the list:

Megan's B-day Request

1. (Big asterisk next to this one.) Guinea pig.

2. A cell phone.

3. A regular phone.

4. My own TV. (Plus Tivo.)

5. My own laptop.

6. A new bedspread.

7. My own email address.

8. More Webkinz.

9. Finish bookcase. (Note: this is an ongoing project she and Daddy are working on, building from scratch.)

10. My own phone number.

11. Wii.

What can I say? Both of my kids dream big, and shoot for the stars! And there's only 42 more days to Megan's Birthday!!

(And again, Embassy Wife, I am soooo jealous about your low-key birthday party!!)

Open House

Mama bear — Sat, 16 May 2009 01:40:07 GMT

Last night was Open House for the fourth and fifth grade campus here in town. They had a dinner planned, some entertainment, and then an open door policy that let parents and kids scope out the other classes... very fun. We hired childcare for Thomas (he would NOT have had any fun at this event, and by extension, neither would we) and took Megan all by herself, a rare treat for the three of us.

First stop: the book fair, a total treat! We bought one of the Percy Jackson and the Olympian books, then ducked out to grab a bite to eat at Applebee's before scooting back to tour Ms. Jordan's classroom and finally moving on to see the other classes.

In Ms. Jordan's class the newest class "pets" were a great focus: real live crayfish, including one with only one claw that the children have named -- any guesses? Yep. Claw.

Apparently one child (not ours, for the record) has already been pinched more than once by the same crawdad. Meg informed us about this with that awe that kids have for another kids' injuries: "THREE TIMES!" Matt and I exchanged that look that needs no words: "Really. Huh. What a smart child, to keep sticking her hand into the claw, three times."

Sheesh.

And yes, the child in question is probably moving on to 5th grade next year... crawdad pinches not being on standardized testing...

We don't get to specifically request a teacher, per se, but we can request a classroom style, or a teaching style, to complement our child's learning style... and based on that, I'd have to say I found our perfect fit. Unfortunately, the paperwork was due three weeks ago... sigh. (They do have a day where you can tour the classes in session, to get a grasp of the teachers, but I had a doctor appointment, so I had to go blindly into the request form.) I knew one 5th grade teacher from Girl Scouts, so I wrote her name down -- against the spirit of the rules, but whatchagonnado? -- and guess what? Her class was the one we felt was the best fit!!

Now we wait... At this point, I'm just sort of hoping we don't get Crayfish Girl in Megan's class again... LOL

Time

Mama bear — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 22:30:31 GMT

Today I have respite care lined up for Thomas, and Megan and I are going to run a few errands and hit a couple appointments.

First we have my Weight Watchers meeting (I was torn about taking her along, but I can't swing it timewise any differently... I decided that since the meetings are about making healthy choices, it was okay for her to be there...) and a little later we have an orthodontist appointment for Meg to get her braces tightened.

Since tightening the braces will most likely leave her sore, we're getting a treat BEFORE the appointment -- either a donut, or a croissant at a nearby cafe. It's a rare treat for us, so it is special -- both the pastry treat and the time together. I was thinking about the weird message it may send -- Weight Watchers in the morning, followed by a food treat -- but again, my focus is on making healthy choices. An occasional treat is okay, given that I am consistently making healthier choices all the other days of the week...

After my special time with Megan and her orthodontist appointment, I am dropping her off at Nona's for an overnight visit. Then Part 2 of my respite time kicks in -- I get some special time with just me... whoo hooo! I do have another couple of errands to run in Santa Rosa, but then I can do whatever I want until the carriage turns into a pumpkin at 2:00... So far I've spent it thirty different ways, all in my dreams. I've mentally gone for a walk, shopped at the mall, bookstore, and Target, holed up in a coffee shop and read a book, holed up in a coffee shop and written on my latest project, and taken a nap -- all in the hour or so I've got coming to me... sigh. Whatever I choose, it's going to feel as good as the pastry treat tasted -- which is to say EXCELLENT!

Quotable Meg

Mama bear — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 05:41:37 GMT

When Megan got into the van this afternoon we did our standard homework check: Agenda? Yes. Worksheets needed? Yes. Lunchbox? Yes. Jacket? Yes. Yea! No return trips today!

I asked her if her teacher had been in school today, after being absent two days last week, and Megan lit up. "Oh, yes, and she did something very "for science," as I say." (The phrase "for science" is from Mythbusters. The stars of the show often say, "All in the name of science!" or "The things we do for science!" when they have to do something unpleasant or dangerous or exciting, like swim with chummed sharks and try to determine if sharks are attracted to swimmers playing dead or swimmers thrashing around.) I sat up, wondering what Ms. Jordan did that was so exciting or dangerous.

Turns out Ms. Jordan wasn't swimming with sharks, but she did take four eggs and set them on the small table by the projecter. (Megan: "Well, first she had to clean that table off, you know.") Then Ms. Jordan began stacking textbooks on top of the four eggs ("Those genteel eggs," Megan marvelled, shaking her head at the memory.) and she got to 17 books before any egg cracking occured.

"Then she broke an egg and told us the parts, and then -- and this is the best part! I was so excited I couldn't sit still!! -- she broke an egg on the projecter screen!!"

Wow, indeed! I guess the Egg Industry was right: They are incredible, after all!

Cookie Time!

Mama bear — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 01:40:32 GMT

Unless you live under a rock (or someplace far, far away - like Costa Rica, maybe?) you will have noticed the arrival of a bright sign of spring: GIRL SCOUT COOKIE SALE TIME IS HERE!!

Our troop did the presales (taking orders from family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, etc.) in January, and the cookies arrived a week or so ago. Yesterday we had our first site sale of the year, and today we have site sale #2... but today we only have six cases left! (We started with around 22 cases for site sales...!)

Our girls are fourth graders, and they are largely responsible for setting up, stocking the table, attracting customers, and handling the money. We adults get to sit back and oversee their efforts, occasionally stepping in to double-check some change-making skills.

This year the flavors include the following cookies:

Thin Mints

Tagalongs (peanut butter patties covered in chocolate)

Do-si-dos (oatmeal-peanut butter sandwich cookies)

Trefoils (classic shortbread)

Lemon Chalet Cremes (lemon sandwich cookies)

Dulce de Leche (carmel-chip and -drizzled)

Sugar Free Chocolate Chips

Samoas (carmel, chocolate and coconut on crisp cookie)

Which are your favorites? :)