Games girls play...

It's the end of summer sleepover at our house tonight. Three girls, three cell phones, one Ouija board, a rented movie, 3 bags of orange chicken, and a Nintendo Wii.

Back in the OLD days (the 70's) we would have had 1 thing from that list...the Ouija board. I think about how childhood has changed with the technology so readily available to our kids. The girls have had cell phones for about a year now. Brooklyn was first, then Callie (but she has to share with Carter), and this summer Olivia finally convinced her folks that a phone was a necessity of life. There is constant text messaging. Group texts going out telling kids to meet at the movie theatre in town, texting the boy your friend likes to see if he likes her too, and the text that most annoys me, the one that just says "Sup". (And to think in the pre-caller ID days we just dialed the princess phone, waited for the boy we liked to answer, and then hung up, dissolving into fits of giggles.)

I fondly recall playing with the Ouija board at sleepovers. Today I laugh at the notion that a piece of press board can answer life's questions. But Callie and her friends believe...and I cannot question their faith in each other. They have been friends since kindergarten, almost half of their young life. They will go through tough times together as they grow older, but for now they put their hopes in the answers the Ouija board gives.

So tonight I will sit with them in a dark room, no TV or video games or phones to distract us, and I will ask the Ouija board a question.

TT

The final resting place...

Callie with Bandit at the Cabin in 2006

My dad called today to chat a bit and to let us know that his beloved dog, Bandit, died on August 8.

Bandit was almost 16 years old - a doggie senior citizen by any standard. He had not been in the best of health, and when we were there in July we all kind of knew that Bandit wouldn't be around next summer when we came to visit. My dad is a dog person. We call him the "dog wisperer" - he has always had a way with canines, and he has always had one in his life. During my childhood we had Fubar the basset hound, Red the irish setter, Mia and Fritz the dachshounds, Snoopy the beagle. All have moved on to the great dog beyond, and now Bandit has joined them. I think about this as I listen to our "evil" chocolate lab, Ruby, bark in her crate (where she was sent for stealing Carter's burrito.)

Knowing that Bandit was getting on in years, my dad dug a hole in the side yard, covered it up with a board, and waited. This was supposed to be Bandit's final resting place, prepared in case of a winter death when the ground was frozen hard. Instead, Bandit made one last trip up the hills to the little cabin in the woods with Dad and Sue. He died peacefully in his sleep in a place that he had spent many happy times. Dad told me he debated loading Bandit into the truck and bringing him back down to town to "his hole", but it didn't feel right. So he dug a spot behind the cabin and Bandit can rest there for eternity. It's a perfect place.

Of course, Dad has a new dog. He and Sue went down last week and got a border collie from the animal shelter. They named him "Stuckey".

TT

You know you're in SE Portland when....

Kids say some funny things.

As a parent, I always wondered what my children told other people when I was not around to hear. When I became a teacher I learned A LOT about the parents of my students through random comments made during our days together. Today a little girl who has never been very verbal told me "Mommy lives in town now." She managed to say so much with 5 words, and her dad was caught off guard when I shared the comments with him. It was a sad moment for both of us, but he now knows that his 4 year old is processing this hard time in her life the best way she can.

Sometimes the comments are made in the course of play, like the time last week when one of my campers offered me a "Flubber Martini" while playing at the flubber table. Or yesterday when one of the boys was making a playdough pizza and offered me a slice. Of course I said "yes" and he asked me if I wanted regular cheese or goat cheese on it...only in SE Portland!

One of my favorite comments came in the form of art from a 3 year old. He drew me a picture of an alligator and wrote in his 3 year old scribble "TEACHER TRACY ALLIGATORS ARE NOT GOOD FOR YOU." Words to live by.

I'll leave you with the best advice ever shared by a 4 year old - "don't lick the slide"
I think it explains itself.

TT