A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

That's what they say. And if that's the case, I guess I better start typing away, because I can't post any pictures. At least, I can't post any pictures that I've taken with my expensive digital camera. Why? Because someone stole it. Yep. And that's not the worst part. It was stolen from a cub scout event. I'm a cubmaster. Yeah. I am. Laugh now and get it out of your system. I'd post a photo of me in my uniform, but I don't have a camera. Because during the course of performing my cubmaster (or mistress) duties, someone swiped my camera. We were in a packed room running a Pinewood Derby. (Little wooden cars made by cute little cub scouts and raced down a wooden track.) I was busy running all over the place, doing this for one person, something else for another, then another thing for everyone. I volunteer my butt off for scouts. I camp every month with the older boys, I spend hours at home preparing for cub scout stuff. I stand up in front of the boys and do silly things. I teach them, I play with them, I help their parents by keeping their boys occupied and giving them all something to do together. Only my 16 year old is still in scouts. Everything I do for cub scouts, the thousands of volunteer hours that I give, is for other people's children. And last night, someone in that room thanked me by stealing my camera.
Forgive me if I'm not witty today. It's hard to be funny when you're pissed.

Acceptance

The Princeling has been accepted to a four-year college. Nay! A UNIVERSITY! (A subject for another blog will be how annoyed I am by colleges claiming to be universities, especially as I attended Temple University. But I'll have to save that tirade for another day. And no, Arcadia, no Rowan, you are not universities.) Our young Monkey Prince received his acceptance as a transfer student to Millersville University. He will be studying meterology. I'm very proud, and not just for the obvious reasons. The Monkey Prince has taken control of his own destiny. Kong and I have never even set foot on the Millersville University campus. We haven't even looked at the course catalogue. (We've checked the tuition rates, however.) It has been completely the Princeling's decision to study metereology. He's researched schools, visited Millersville on his own, and completed his own application. He OWNS this, and I'm very proud.
These days parents begin fretting over college applications somewhere about three months into their firstborn's nursery school career. Year after year the anxiety ramps up until it comes to a crescendo in the junior year of high school and then the senior year application frenzy. There are worries over getting into "good" schools. A flurry of campus visits, interviews, second visits, etc. etc. And here we sit, having done nothing at all for our eldest son! There are several reasons why we have been uninvolved, not the least of which is that he's quite capable of doing this for himself.
But one of my main reasons for not going on endless campus tours and poring over college propaganda is that I really don't care what a campus is like. I don't care what the average class size is, and I don't care if my child gets the "college experience". You see, I went to Temple University. It's an inner city school, and I do mean inner city. It's located smack dab in one of the more . . . shall we say, seriously real life areas of Philadelphia. There are no rolling hills or grassy meadows. Instead, you'll hear subways running under Broad Street and will probably have to be on your guard against petty theft perpetrated by the students of the nearby junior high school. I will insert a disclaimer and say that Temple has come a long way since I first walked on campus in 1980, but it's still a big city school.
I chose Temple because I looked at the course catalog. Temple offered the program I wanted, had a great reputation, and was affordable. Those are the things that count. And I was more than satisfied with my college experience. I received an amazing education at one of the most miserable campuses you'd ever want to visit, occasionally sat in overcrowded classes, and never once sat on a grassy knoll in the sunshine. It was one of the best experiences of my life.
The same is true for Millersville and the Princeling. I really don't care if he and the school are a "good fit". Here's my philosophy on choosing a college: It's four short years of what one hopes to be a very long life. Deal with what you have to, and get the education you need. It's not play time, kiddies. The "college experience" often includes partying and binge drinking. Let's not play Animal House while away at school. This is work. And it's hard. So do it.
I may be unusual in my thinking. But there has been no stress in our house over college selection. I've always told my children that if they don't know what they want to do when they graduate from high school, then take time off. Go travel, go work. If you want to stay in school, then go to the local community college and take some classes in different areas. See what sparks your interest. When and if you are serious about earning a degree, then go get it. This philosophy may be simplistic, but it works. Parents have a hard time with this concept. Why? Because we all compete through our children. "Where's you son going to college?" "Oh! Our precious is going to Harvard." It can be tough to follow that with, "My son is going to community college."
I feel strongly about this. Our job as parents is to put honorable people into the world. There is no single correct formula for doing that. And "good" schools do not guarantee a life of honor. After all, George W. Bush is an ivy league graduate.

January 12 of 12

There's a fun thing that a lot of folks do these days, and it's called "12 of 12". The idea is that on the 12th day of each month, you take 12 pictures throughout your day and then share them. So, this is my first attempt at a 12 of 12. Problem is, this was one really dull day for me. Next month, the 12th is a Monday, and that's usually a scout meeting night. There's always lots to see there!

So here we go!
6:00 a.m. and the cat has to be fed. There's a story on my blog from last year, I think November and December of 2005. This cat is "Lily" and she came to live with us after "Clancey", our 20-year-old calico died. Baby Monkey was really attached to Clancey. It's a good story.

This is all you're going to get to see of me at 7:30 a.m. I've been at work for an hour and a half, and usually I roll straight out of bed, go downstairs, feed the cat, and start typing away. I'm a medical transcriptionist, and I work at home. Since I work in a pantry next to my kitchen, surrounded by shelving with jars and jars of yummies that I put up myself, I call this the "Pantroffice". It doesn't roll off the tongue like "Cloffice", but it's the best I could do.

Back to the cat! She's my office-mate. What a life! She lays in that soft basket on top of the warm radiator cover all day.

The Princeling has awakened! Oldest Son has this one last Friday off before starting classes again at the local community collge. It was pretty early for him. Generally, he'll sleep until 11:00 a.m. on days he's off from school. I would have really teased him about his sleeping schedule this morning, but he made me breakfast and turned on an interview with Captain Noah on the Preston and Steve show. (You have to be from Philly and of a certain age to know Captain Noah.) That was quite possibly the funniest interview I've ever heard!


Lunch break. It's convenient to work next to the kitchen. That's a bowl of spaghetti squash with tomatoes and mushrooms and some ricotta salata and chick peas. I'm not a vegetarian, but I enjoy vegetarian food.


A Philly cheesesteak. It's a small one. The Princeling went out and got this one at Lee's Hoagie House. A good cheesesteak is probably my favorite sandwich in the world!


If you really want to aggravate your teenagers, you have to go right into their world. At around 2:30, I was done with work, so I decided to get some exercise and take a walk. I walked down to the high school to meet the kids coming home from school, just like I did when they were wee little things in elementary school. Here's the middle child wondering why I'm taking his picture.


And here comes Baby Monkey a few blocks behind. He's seen the camera and is trying to spin away from me. Actually, he's headed in my direction.


And there he goes! He's 6'3" and he's all leg. He covers a lot of ground when he takes a step. I turned around and followed him home, but I had to scurry and run at times to keep up. He knew it, too! Wouldn't slow down! I ended up beating him to the front door, though. Yay for me! What a workout!


A shiny new South Korean passport for the Middle One. He turned 17 and we had to get him a new passport stamped with his Korean military exemption. There's a Korean travel agency in our area that handles all the paperwork with the South Korean consulate in NYC. We'd been waiting for weeks for this to come back, and today we went to the agency to pick it up. In just a few months, though, he'll be applying for U.S. citizenship.

Sometimes this place feels like a frat house. Around 8:00 p.m. the boys were lounging around watching t.v. Notice that the Christmas tree is still not put away.

The Princeling is using the exercise ball in a less than aerobic manner.


My bonus shot is actually two. I didn't really start anything new for the year, but I did something that I always talk about doing. I cleaned the refrigerator, and here are the before and after shots. How thrilling is that?