Portrait in Linen

I drove to a friend’s home last week to pick up some satsuma’s she offered us.  I had the address, Googled it, thought, “I know where that is,” and set off in the van.

Unfortunately, I didn’t write down the address.

We found the street just fine, but suddenly, my mind went blank.  “Was it 204?  240?  No, maybe it was 302…but there are no 300’s here.  Hmm…224?”

I took a chance on an address where a man was in the driveway cleaning his truck and his wife?/girlfriend? was busy loading her children into another vehicle.  I told Squeak and Mo to hang tight while I found out if we were where we were supposed to be.

“Does Miss Bee live here?” I asked.

He needn’t have said a word.  I knew in a nanosecond he had absolutely no idea who Miss Bee was or why I’d be looking for her here.  He shook his head.  The wife?/girlfriend? eyed me suspiciously.

I climbed back in the van.

“Is this the place?” Mo asked.

“No, actually that man had no idea what I was talking about.”

“Wow.  How em-BAR-rassing,” she said.  From the mouths of babes….

I said we’d try another house.  After all, there were only so many houses on the block; one had to be the right one.

“So you’re going to embarrass yourself again?” Mo asked.

I’m a sucker for punishment.

—–

And I’m on my way to a healthy ulcer.  Or two.  Or ten.

Got a call tonight from another Girl Scout mom.  She (bless her heart) was burdened with the unpleasant task of delivering a message from the embarrassed troop leader, who had a message from the concerned business owner on whose premises we had our Girl Scouts cookie sale, who had a message from the disgruntled business owner next door, who had a message from an upset patron, who owned a vehicle parked in the business’s parking lot, which–said vehicle–came under the fire of “two Girl Scout brownies kicking gravel and throwing rocks.”

I distinctly remember two hoodlum Girl Scouts laughing and causing a ruckus behind a particular hedge that separated one business from another, and I distinctly remember those two hoodlum Girl Scouts…belonging to me!

OH, my stars.  What now?

We don’t offer excuses.  I was taught that early on, by either my parents, or various training supervisors in the customer service industry.  “You may be innocent of any ill intention; you may be justified.  But you do NOT offer excuses.”

I remember the moment we arrived at the cookie sale; I remember looking upon a vast sea of shining silver rocks, each the perfect size to fit into curious little hands.  I remember gazing upon the gleaming vehicles parked side by side in the neatly kept parking lot.  I remember noting the great temptation those rocks might pose to a group of little girls with little to do but wait for customers, and I remember gathering my offspring to me, turning their tiny chins toward me, engaging their eyes, and offering a firm warning, “Do NOT throw rocks.”

“Yes, ma’am,” came their angelic, obedient reply.

Some time between that moment and the moment the phone rang ominously throughout our tranquil home, my little angels turned into rebellious, reckless little rascals intent on wreaking havoc upon so many contented shoppers/automobile owners caught unawares.

I accepted full responsibility.  I apologized profusely and adamantly promised to make amends.

My wayward Girl Scouts and I had a little talk tonight.  I calmly and rationally attempted to illustrate the relative magnitude of their offense, to speak for the many victims involved, to convey the extent of damage their play may have caused, to explain how such a mistake may have significantly hurt the family pocketbook, and how the actions of one family member may reflect on the whole family.

It was a heavy talk, but Responsibility and Accountability for Wrongs is a fundamental concept that must be established firmly and immediately.  It’s one thing to wrong another family member and make restitution within the family circle; it’s quite another to wrong another member of society.

The girls will not always be met with kindness, understanding, and forgiveness.  Sometimes, there may be no forgiveness to be had, depending on the sense of injury, and temperament of the wronged.  Sadly, grounding is not a universal punishment.  One day, they may face stiffer penalties–fines, community service, or worse.

But to the girls right now, nothing could be worse than a face-to-face apology to each and every concerned party.  Early next week, we’ll return to the involved businesses; the culprits will admit their mistakes, apologize, and promise it will never happen again.

—–

It’s not the first monumentally embarrassing moment in my life, and it will not be the last.  I find comfort in having had the opportunity to use a bad experience to teach the kids something very good.  Whether or not the lesson will “take,” only time will tell.

But I remember the one and only time I ever tried to take something from a store without paying for it (with no ill intention, to be sure); I remember my mother, red-faced and incredulous, taking me by the hand to the store clerk and standing at my side as I offered a tearful apology and promised to never do it again.  I have never, ever forgotten that day and the accompanying shame, and I’ve never, ever again attempted to take anything without paying for it first.

God, help the girls to always remember this, too.

The Idea
Miner and I agreed it’s finally time to take the family on our first ever “Lengthy Family Vacation.” That is, to a destination that’s more than one state away, and longer than an extended weekend.

Any sooner, and we’d have all fallen apart within the first two days, because Squeak and Mo were just too little to handle the required many miles of driving and walking. We’ve never been able to afford a long vacation anyway. But now, the urgency of Rocky approaching graduation and soon flying the nest trumps the pang of pain to the pocket book when considering a trip of any great magnitude. The kids won’t be kids forever. We don’t want to be those parents who look back and regret we never took our family further than the adjacent states.

Of course, the first consideration was, Where? Which direction would we like to go? North? East? West? Grand Canyon came to mind, but I reasoned–the kids should see the birthplace of the nation before anything else. Bring the History home, as it were. Miner agreed, and it will give him a chance to see his late father’s property for the first time since his passing Christmas before last.

So Washington D.C. is it. Ten days is all we can swing for his off-hitch. Ten days to see the Nation’s Capitol and however many surrounding sites we can squeeze in.

Still in the brainstorming phase of planning. Some possibilities…

Admittedly, there’s no way we could possible do it all. It’ll be painful marking off places we really want to see. We may never have another chance to go to these places, certainly not as a family. But, the reality is that time is not infinite for this trip, and neither is funding. So, we’ll have to be judicious and brutal.

Library Binge

I think I exhausted the 900’s section. Not only did I pick up travel guides for every candidate state; I also checked out books for reference and research on the sites we’ll be visiting: caverns, Thomas Jefferson, Amish culture, rocks and minerals, the Declaration of Independence.

Part of the strategy is to educate and enrich myself on the places we’re considering so I can prioritize. With one crack at it, would we rather see the Library of Congress, or the Liberty Bell? It’s like trying to choose whether to snack on peanut butter cookies or strawberries and creme. Both are delicious, and both offer different nutritional benefits. But which would we enjoy more?

The other part of the strategy is to expose (or re-expose) the kids to these specific educational points while it’s still early in the game. They need to learn these things anyway, but covering the material before the trip will give them added interest–because they anticipate being able to see these sites in person, in the near future–and will give them the facts they’ll eventually connect with the experience. Facts + Experience = Relevance and Retention. Learning doesn’t get much better than that.

Traveling with Kids

I was especially delighted to find a selection of books written for parents traveling with children. I’ve been reading through them pretty quickly, taking notes, making lists, and making copies of information I intend to incorporate later in the organization process. I’ve really come across a lot of valuable information.

• on-the-road recipes
• items for kids’ goodie backpacks (for long stretches of driving)
• itinerary suggestions to keep the kids (and parents) from getting burned out
• games to play during the drive
• scrapbooks, journals, memento ideas
• safety suggestions
• packing and organization tips
• crowd control ideas (for keeping everyone in line)

I’m most excited about compiling all these ideas and putting them into a personal handbook for future trips–and to pass down to the kids one day when they’re parents and taking their little ones on long trips, too.

(Note: I intend to share what I’ve learned later down the line, and to also share a list of books and websites that have been especially helpful.)

The Itinerary

For now, our main concern is nailing down a most basic itinerary. That means eliminating destinations we just can’t fit in and establishing exactly where we’d like to be on what date. Reservations can’t be made and a budget can’t be formulated until we have something to work with.

But, that will all have to wait until Miner’s home. There’s just no problem solving to be done through email, no matter how many itinerary samples or route maps I send. I’m really looking forward to pulling out the dry erase board, my new purple Family Vacation binder, and the good ol’ USA Atlas; putting on a pot of coffee; and whacking some ideas back and forth across the dining room table.

I should’ve made a counseling appointment a long, long time ago. I should’ve heeded the doctor and begun cognitive the first day I filled the prescription.

I told them (husband-and-wife counseling team–fantastic feedback, because I get the male & female perspective), “I consider myself to be pretty insightful. I analyze these things from every possible angle, over and over again, and inevitably, I hit a wall in my thinking. By that point, I’ve exhausted all my personal resources, and there’s still no resolution. That’s why I’m here.”

I went armed with a simple list of the top four “issues” and points of contention–the greatest sources of stress and discord. I mentioned M and I have pretty well come to a common ground on three of them, but we could come to no resolution on the fourth–the kids’ dress. So that’s what we talked about.

Of course, I didn’t go in there expecting the counselors to support my point of view and coach me in ways to “change M.” I knew we’d focus on my part in the whole dynamic. But I never expected to delve so deeply into my own past, neuroses, and motivations.

I think this is the primary reason why I’ve been unable to find any “break-throughs” in my thinking. My past, neuroses, and motivations are something my psyche successfully holds at bay behind a wall of denial, justification, and rationalization. My mind is so skilled at filtering and blocking, it takes no effort at all to avoid “going there” on so many issues. It would take a thoughtful, respectable, fearless guide to lead me into that dark territory–someone (or someones) I could respect and trust, knowing there would be no ulterior motive or prejudgment. The counselors fit the bill–husband and wife practitioners, Christians, with five (or more) children of their own. I have no doubt God led me to their office.

The first appointment was painful. When asked, I tried to explain my reasons for our choice of dress and how I came to the decision. It was so, so difficult for me, because it wasn’t a logical decision in the first place, but a purely spiritual conviction. How does one explain a purely spiritual conviction, except to say, “God led me to that”? Especially for a person who is already into the habit of questioning her own sanity and credibility?

I was completely inarticulate on that point. I felt utterly vulnerable, silly, ignorant, exposed. I almost felt my heart and mind physically kicking against opening up that door. The anxiety was overwhelming. I felt sweaty and light-headed, dry mouth, a bit shaky. And there was nothing I could say, except “I’m not sure–I just felt the strong conviction to do so.”

So we went back to how things were “before,” what kind of person I was in the past. I admitted I dressed extremely immodestly and took great pride in my appearance, that I was grossly vain and enjoyed the attention. At the same time, I felt a pressure for my appearance to be “pleasing,” because it gained me immediate acceptance, as opposed to immediate rejection because I was “weird” or “foreign” or “inferior” or “not good enough” in other ways. Being pleasing to the eye was a way to gain acceptance without having to do so in other ways, like being witty or charismatic or intelligent, or by having a lot of material wealth or style.

I admitted that kind of behavior led me to worse things, and that I’ve never forgotten that period in life before I was wholly committed to the Lord.

“Is it possible you feel…unclean?” they asked.

I think I might’ve cried at that point. Those words s