Astigmatizzy

Skipper had her second eye exam today, which went much, much more smoothly than her first eye exam.* Her compliance earned her a bribe of hot cocoa with whipped cream. Unfortunately, she also earned herself a pair of glasses, and a diagnosis of farsightedness, a little tiny bit of amblyopia, AND astigmatism in both eyes.** Dang.

Public Service Message Time! All you parents of young children, take note that it is apparently a good idea to schedule your kid's first eye exam around the age of 3. I did not know that; we only did it for Skipper because of Duchess's amblyopia (which has some kind of genetic component, and Cook had it, too). If Duchess had perfect vision, Skipper's kind-of-crappy vision would have gone under the radar for at least two more years, and probably longer. Supposedly the early diagnosis helps prevent further vision problems. I wasn't feeling so great about it, though, as I grimly watched Skipper try on her new frames, and considered what it's going to be like getting her to keep them on every day all day.*** Happily, Skipper thinks that wearing glasses is what big kids do, so she's pretty chipper about the prospect, so far.


*It pales in comparison to the Horrific Phlebotomy Experience of 2012, but it was bad. Dilating eye drops and an uncompliant toddler are a really terrible combination.
** Her kind-of-crappy vision was noticeable immediately during the exam. Duchess and I exchanged horrified glances as Skipper mis-identified pictures at alarmingly large sizes.
*** The glasses guy asked me if I wanted the warranty, and I said (grimly) "YES." There's another Public Service Message for you - in my vast experience, even a relatively careful child will absolutely trash their glasses in a month, given half a chance.

New skills

 Our end-of-summer vacation trip was delightful. The highlight of the trip was a 2-night camp-out at a mountain lake in Central Oregon. It was beautiful, and of course I took no photos of the scenery. What I do have is photos of the chilly morning.

And of the canoeing and kayaking. We got to our campsite by water, which was exciting. The next day, we all did some boating. Duchess and Cook both tried out the single-seater whitewater canoe (Duchess had her teacher on-board), and Cook took Skipper for a ride in the kayak.

I really didn't take anywhere near as many photos as this outing deserved. The lake was beautiful, the weather was perfect, the novelty of boating and camping was terrific fun, the food was delicious, our hosts were wonderful, and it was just an all-around rip-roaring success. Skipper was impressively resilient about all the challenges and transitions, and kept repeating jauntily "This is so fun!" until we began to wonder if maybe she had experienced some kind of personality reversal during the drive out. Duchess had a few of what Cook calls "whinesplosions" but also had a fabulous time. The usual camping challenges (cold, dirt, uncomfortable sleeping quarters, lack of a bathroom,  etc.) spiced everything up. The girls both mastered the art of peeing on the ground (without peeing on your pants, your shoes, or the person assisting you), and we learned the hard way that Duchess's sleeping bag isn't really warm enough for camping.* It was perfect.

And now it's time to get back to real life. We have one last relatively unscheduled week before school/preschool starts next week, and we plan to eat a lot of tomatoes and ice cream. Duchess found out that she was assigned the teacher she wanted* but that most of her favorite kids are in the other teacher's class. That's the news!

*Last year she got the teacher she was afraid of, and quickly came around to adoring her.

We went on a road trip.

Still not dead.

Sooo... I really don't have anything to write about. But I thought I should show up here.

Duchess is ready ready ready for school. She's seen some of her classmates at various social events in the last week or so, and she was thrilled. And I think she's getting a little tired of me and Skipper. (I am a little tired of myself and Skipper, too, so I'm sympathetic.) Oh, and she likes soccer.

Skipper is getting very worried about her new preschool. At random moments during the day, she wants to talk about how sad she is to say goodbye to her friends, and how nervous she is about going to her new school. She's climbing over a mountain of anxiety to get through this newest transition. She is also very happy right now, though, because she's going to get her bribe/incentive tomorrow rewarding her for 20 nights of having put herself to sleep and slept through the night in her own bed, without hollering for anybody.* A low bar, yes, but it's absolutely worth the purchase of a bribe (a baby doll, of course, to add to Skipper's large  team of pretend nurturees, currently starring a blue elephant named Elfy and a naked thrift store baby named Donner) to speed up our return to the world of Sleeping Through The Night Every Single Goddamn Night.** And I'm really loving that world.

But we're going on vacation! Hurrah!


* Except to attend her in the bathroom. I'm the privy counsellor, which is fine, as long as I get to go back to sleep
** We should have had a French baby. They sleep through the night, you see, due to all the superior French parenting they get. Stupid American-issue babies.

Summer is almost over.

School supplies have been purchased. (In second grade, apparently, one uses approximately half as many glue sticks as in first grade. The number of glue sticks one needs may be directly correlated with one's academic sophistication.)

Tomatoes are ripening.

Skipper had her last day at her preschool today. She's starting at a new one in September, because the poor kid ALWAYS goes to a new school in the fall.

Duchess has her first soccer practice on Monday. Summer swim lessons are over.

Everybody is racing to get their camping trips/barbecues/pool parties in! Hurry! Have you gotten all your summer done yet?

We're not dead.

All is well. We've had lots of wonderful visitors, and the weather has been very tomato-friendly.

The painting continues.

5 PM, kitchen floor

Hot

Today was the hottest day in Portland since the little heat wave during Skipper's infancy in 2009 that is burned into my memory. It was hot.

Cook, because he is reaching Ahab-level obsession with home improvement jobs, spent the blazingly hot afternoon  washing, scraping, painting, and repairing various parts of the exterior of the house. At one point I came out and found him wielding the clippers in a demented frenzy, trimming away branches and prickly plants at the overgrown, little-visited northwest corner of the house so that he could get to a crumbling corner of the roof before his magic (toxic) wood-preserving potion hardened up and became unusable. I backed away slowly.

Duchess is still vacationing in balmy coastal California, so she didn't get to enjoy the heat. Skipper seemed kind of sluggish and off her stride all day, and by the time she fell asleep for a second nap at 5:30 PM, we had finally cottoned on to the fact that she's sick. The poor kid even managed to fire up a fever on the hottest day in three years.

Dear Malaysian engineer leaving Portland for Hong Kong last Thursday:

Thanks for being nice (but not creepily nice) to my kid, who was flying alone for the first time. I'm sure you weren't planning on sitting next to a very talkative, unsupervised 7-year-old for three hours at the very beginning of your long trip, but it sounds like you were very kind about it. She really liked it when the pilot was delayed and you joked that maybe SHE should fly the plane, since she had been given an honorary wings pin by the flight attendant. I am grateful. While I'm at it, thanks to the flight attendants, too, and everybody who sat adjacent to Duchess and was nice to her.