I have reached a new low. I'm composing this Random Kansas thoughts Thursday post on Wednesday night while hunkered in a makeshift 'tent' my mom fashioned for the kids in the corner of our hotel room. Above my head - a comforter that has been washed twice since it's Super 8 debut in 1984, and below my body - a sheet acting as a barrier from carpet that has never been washed since it's installation. 8:30 bedtimes in a single room are a major hinderance to blogging and watching Fox news. Sigh.
I'm sure my Mom thinks I'm a major germaphobe. Before allowing myself the luxury of swimming in the green saltwater pool brimming with hairballs, I sprayed lysol on every single surface of the room, including the refrigerator, remote, and food preparation areas. All hotbeds for germ habitation. I know.....the bald guy on Oprah told me.
Of course, my kids want nothing to do with the sterile surfaces I have prepared for them around the room. They would rather roll around the comforters naked (gasp), eat the cheese they dropped onto the two-decade old crime scene carpets, and waller around the yucky bathtub like a couple of water deprived baby seals.
But what atrocities I won't endure for violin camp.
Walks of all kinds of life congregate in Ottawa, Kansas for two weeks of musical training and instruction. Luckily for my Super 8 experience, we're just here for a week.
We're having a great time, and I think I have caught the camp bug. Not from the carpets, but from the joy of seeing all of these kids having fun and playing music at the same time. It's like watching a big family reunion take place. Instead of weird relatives, potluck, and politics, it's just weird musicians, picnics, and practicing under trees.
Kidding. Sort of.
Greyson has been the hit of his 'sibling class,' which is really like an early childhood musical class. It's hard to explain, but it's much like our 'mommy and me' swim lessons, (except there's no water involved and focuses on music, singing, nursery rhymes, and some instruments.) The first day he was so shy (which is really unlike him) and didn't want much to do with taking a turn playing the instruments. Yesterday was a breakthrough and he decided to shuffle up to the xylophone with his big lumbering pigeon-toed feet and tell the teacher and a room full of twenty other people about his shoes and owies. "I got my shoes on." "I got an owie." And then proceeded to stick his finger in his nose (usually an insecure move that is just a finger in the mouth. Unfortunate that it was in the nose on his debut xylophone performance.) The teacher promptly semi-laughed and said, "Why don't we try the mallet in your OTHER hand."
Oh, little boy. You keep me laughing. And sanitizing.
I could probably keep going on about the wonders of the week, but my scalp is crawling with whatever debris is falling from the ceiling of my tent.
I have missed blogging the last few days. For better or worse, I'm back.
(And p.s.....thanks for the prayers for my sister-in-law and baby Tanner. Thanks to a good friend with the keys to an apartment (you know who you are), they are staying in an beautiful space rent-free for the next few weeks. I'll keep you updated on how he's doing.)