You Go, Girl!

It’s time to give credit where credit is overdue.  I’m proud of my daughter and what she has made of this summer.  While she has had plenty of time to hang out with friends, eat pizza, swim, and stay up late watching movies, she has also made time to get involved in a couple of interesting activities.

After discovering that field hockey is not her thing (she was good at the sport but didn’t like the team atmosphere–very sorority-like), she decided to pursue soccer this fall.  The last time Middle Sister played soccer, she was 6.  Our town is big on soccer; we produced a player on the most recent women’s Olympic soccer team.  And apparently soccer parents in this town are big on how much playing time their kids get, because there were only two extra kids per team.  6-year-olds play on full-size fields, and with very few substitutes, 6-year-olds get tired pretty quickly.  Middle Sister didn’t want to sign up for soccer the next year, and we didn’t push it.

But now, as a sophomore in high school, she wants to try it.  So we invested in the cleats and the shin guards and the soccer ball and the week of soccer camp–and we’ll see how it goes once practices start.  She seems to like it, and I have to give her credit for starting a new sport at 15 when most kids her age have been playing for 10 years already.  She says she’s made some “newbie mistakes,” even some funny ones, but she has been eager to try, working to improve, and trying to make up for her lack of technique and finesse with heart and determination.

And she hasn’t gotten a lot of rest this week after spending 6 hours a day in the hot sun playing soccer–because she’s been spending her evenings at the community theatre with her brother.  They’re both in the theatre’s Intern Company, a summer program of about 40 teens that produces a play.  The kids write, direct, compose music, build sets, design special effects, advertise, sell tickets–they do it all, and have been working hard since June.  Middle Sister is running the light boards for the play, which ends its run tomorrow night, and she also helped build and paint sets.  She’s been having a great time.

Finally, she spent a week pet-sitting for our neighbor.  They have a lizard (that required live insects for food), a guinea pig, and a dog.  The dog spent most of the week here, and she really did a good job caring for him.  He was very sad without his family, and Middle Sister tried everything short of feeding him from the table (she was super-strict about that) to make him happy.  Sometimes her pet-sitting responsibilities interfered with her social life, but she didn’t complain or beg someone else to do her job.

No, she hasn’t yet completed (or even started, for that matter) her math packet or her summer-reading book. But I don’t think she’s wasted her time this summer.  She’s still got a couple of weeks to buckle down and get the schoolwork done.

It Might Get Loud

The Boy Next Door and a few other friends are over here to hang out with Middle Sister. They’re all freshmen in high school, which means that while these guys enjoy going to school dances, they also enjoy staging Nerf wars with Little Brother.

Middle Sister came in here a few minutes ago to ask me to get Little Brother off the porch, where she was sitting with her friends.

“Find a friend your own age,” I told Little Brother.

But the friends piped up, “No, we’re having fun! He should stay here.”

“Yeah,” Little Brother chimed in. “They’re like the brothers I never had.”

“You have a brother,” I reminded him.

So Little Brother remains on the porch (or in the yard–I just saw a bunch of these guys run by the window) with Middle Sister and the guys. There he is, right in the thick of things. And while it’s noisy out there on the porch, I really don’t mind having this bunch over. As long as they remember to put their empty soda cans in the recycling bin, they’re welcome here.

Foiled Again

It’s a good thing we only live a mile or so from Middle Sister’s high school, because I use quite a bit of time (and gas) going back and forth.

On a typical day, she catches the bus in the morning, but misses the afternoon bus because of track practice. Sometime between 4:30 and 5:15 (depending on the length of the day’s workout, which varies) she calls for a ride home. Then I have to have her (and sometimes Little Brother) back there at 6:30 for play practice. If he’s done earlier than she is, I have to pick them up separately. That’s three or four runs to the school on a daily basis.

And then you have her tendency to miss the school bus. Sometimes it’s her fault, sometimes it isn’t. While you could set a clock by the bus driver Big Brother had in high school, who retired earlier this year, this new driver is not so punctual. He and Middle Sister seem to be on opposite schedules. On the days when she’s running a bit late, he’s at the corner by 7:35. Today she was out there with time to spare–and I wound up picking her up at the corner at 7:47. The bus was nowhere in sight. That’s almost a 15-minute window, which is a long time to stand on the corner when the weather’s not fantastic.

Sure, I could make her walk to school if she misses the bus. But I don’t do that in bad weather (it’s threatening to pour rain any second now) and I won’t do that if she misses the bus through no fault of her own. Today was not her fault.

So, today, I drove her to school for the third time this week. (Two of those were her fault.)

I joked yesterday that she had given up missing the bus for Lent. Apparently, though, the bus driver had other ideas.

Shakespearean

Middle Sister’s been studying Romeo and Juliet in her English class. Her take: Juliet is desperate, and the guys are stalkers.

I’d love to be a fly on the wall during that class discussion.

Geographically Challenged

Little Brother saw a commercial for the Baseball Hall of Fame, and he begged me to take him there. Middle Sister saw that the Hall of Fame is located in New York, so she figured we could piggyback the trip to Cooperstown with a visit to a friend of hers.

“Is Cooperstown in, like, upstate?”

“Everything but New York City and Long Island is upstate,” I told her. “I’ll show you where Cooperstown is.”

Google maps pinpointed the location, and I showed Middle Sister where the Hall of Fame is in relation to New York City. Then I asked her where her friend lives. “Oh, somewhere around here,” she said, pointing to a random spot near Cooperstown. On the map, the words “NEW YORK” were spread across the center of the state.

“I can’t remember the city,” she mused, “but I know he’s only, like, two letters away.”

That’s why I want you to take that geography class before you graduate high school,” I informed her.

High School, Round Two

In only 7 more days, Middle Sister will begin her high-school career.

She is different from her older brother in so many ways, and she fiercely wants to be independent. There is nothing she wants less than to hear someone tell her that Teacher X doesn’t like athletes who leave her class early to go to games, even though she has Teacher X last period every day. To her, these are intrusions, not helpful hints. She wants to find things out on her own.

That’s hard for parents, older brothers, and even friends of older brothers to handle. What we might consider helpful advice is, to her, some kind of hint that she can’t handle things on her own.

For the record, I watched her play goalie on the freshman field-hockey team on Saturday. She’s new to the sport. She managed 7 saves on 9 attempts, so only 2 goals got through. Middle Sister has a lot of energy and a lot of heart. She’s going to do well through sheer determination.

It’s going to be hard not to handle Middle Sister’s high-school years the same way I handled her older brother’s. While she’s happy to hijack his old high-school sweatshirts, she’s not interested in hand-me-down advice.

This might be Round Two for us in this high school, but it’s a whole new era for Middle Sister.

Because She Can

I’ve got no other explanation.

I left the house for an hour to attend Little Brother’s Vacation Bible School closing performance. When we returned, I found some onion peels on the floor, and the kitchen smelled like onion. Busy with lunch, I didn’t ask about it.

But Middle Sister told me anyway. “I cut up an onion before,” she declared. “I wanted to see if I would cry.”

“Oh…so what did you do with it after you cut it up?”

“Well, some of it fell on the floor, so I threw it away.”

“That’s too bad. I could have used it in tonight’s dinner. Later, you can cut up another one for me.”

She agreed, announcing proudly, “It made me cry, too!”

So she can cry again later. Saves me from having to do it.

Living Dangerously

Sometimes a little Boy Scout Camp can be a dangerous thing.

Right now, my back porch is full of Hood Ornaments. That’s my nickname for the bunch of Boy Scouts who hang around with Middle Sister and the Boy Next Door. I call them Hood Ornaments because they ride their bicycles in such an unsafe manner that sooner or later (I’m betting on sooner), one of them is going to become one.

I don’t usually mind the Hood Ornaments, though they tend to be loud and messy. But they’re good kids.

However, they came back from Boy Scout Camp last week, and they’re eager to put their newfound knowledge to good use. I just went out there and found one of them standing in the middle of a pile of yellow ropes and large carabiners.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making a Swiss rappel seat,” he informed me.

I warned him to stay off the pool deck, shed roof and house roof, as well as my clothesline. I’m not sure where else he might go with all his mountain-climbing equipment, and I’m not sure I want to. I just hope that when he gets hurt (it’s a matter of time), it’s on someone else’s property.

Hermit would be a better word

Middle Sister has this pet peeve: she can’t stand to be around anyone else when they’re chewing. Little Brother with bubble gum can chase her out of a room in record time.

Mealtimes are not pretty around here with all of this going on.

Right now Little Brother is eating a toasted bagel. Middle Sister flew off the handle again: “You chew so weird! I can’t stand it.”

I commented, “You know, it’s going to be really hard for you to live with other people when you grow up if you’re going to be like that.”

Little Brother suggested, “Maybe she’ll be a nun!”

Discretion is the better part of motherhood

Otherwise known as: You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em.”

Things I’d like to say to my daughter’s friend, but don’t: “If you’re that interested in the clothespins that you’ve got them hanging from your ears, perhaps you’d like to take the laundry down from the line and fold it neatly.”

Things I’d rather not have to say to my daughter’s other friend, but do, since he’s a neighbor and I’ve picked him up at school once in the past 2 weeks, in the pouring rain, because of a foot injury: “Don’t you have a sore foot? Should you be doing barefoot gymnastics?”