Now, wait just a minute...

It is not that easy to come up with new and interesting lunches every day, for two little girls who may or may not even eat them. At Muriel's school, they throw away whatever she doesn't eat. So who knows what she's eating? In the case of Naomi, I know exactly what she is eating. Because they send whatever she hasn't eaten right back home in her lunch box. Often, pretty gross.

One of my less-inspired fall backs is whole wheat Ritz crackers, and the other day I sent some with Naomi's lunch that contained peanut butter and jelly. When she got home, we did the usual fruitless interrogation about her day (never successful), but when we go to the subject of lunch, she lit up a little bit.

"Miss E. put peanut butter and jelly on my round crackers, and I ate them all up!"

What now?

"You sent plain round crackers in my lunch, and Miss E. put peanut butter and jelly on them, and they were really good, and I ate them all!"

So what is the weird part of this story- that somehow Naomi got the idea that her teacher has been tampering with her lunch, as a favor to her? Or that I am so incensed that, having finally scored a hit in the lunch bag, I am not getting any credit for it?

Autumn Moon Festival

I seem to be moving in slow motion lately, which is why a post about what went down on Saturday (almost a week ago) still seems new on the following Thursday. Really, tonight's event, the preschool potluck, is worth a post, but if I went that route, I'd have to reveal the sad, bumbling couple of days I had endeavoring to bring a homemade treat for this thing, including such details as my inability to properly soften shortening, and the fact that our flour has BUGS in it. Ew. Anyway, the potluck was fun, albeit not so much nourishing. Naomi was a bit of a maniac, Muriel walked around waving at everyone, no one really ate enough food. It was alright.

But better than alright, if I may say, was this thing last Saturday. We had our dear friends over to celebrate the Autumn Moon Festival with us. Before they came, Naomi and I made some paper lanterns. They were nothing like the amazing chicken-shaped lanterns Jim got to tote around when he was a lad, but they were lantern-esque, and since there was no way any of the kids were getting anything with fire inside of it, they were, to quote a hilarious restaurant review that is rather un-self-consciously framed at my friend's neighborhood Mexican place, "delightfully adequate." In addition to the paper crafts, Jim and I put together a Chinese feast, which I only say because I succeeded in making, all on my own and for the very first time, sticky rice. I don't like to brag, but Damn! Sticky rice! We also had chicken wings a la Khooler, broccoli with Chinese sausage, and this kind of steamed eggplant that Jim's mom showed me how to make (it was not as good as hers, but it was still pretty good).

The moon festival has a couple of wacky legends associated with it. I chose one to tell the girls, about when all ten suns, normally taking their turn, suddenly showed up all at once, scorching the earth, and then were shot down (or, nine of them were) by this superhuman archer. I forget his name already. He found the elixir of life, but he was tyranical, and his beautiful wife drank it to spare the people of the world an eternity of rule by a tyranical archer. Then someone, the fates? made her go live in the moon. Her name I remember; it's Chang Er. And the lanterns are for her? I guess? Yeah, I am a poseur. Whiter than sticky rice. Oh well.

After the strange legend part, the girls did their lantern parade, and those of us with a sophisticated palate enjoyed some moon cakes, and those of us without (me!) enjoyed some pineapple. Then Chang Er's big round white estate made its appearance. Thanks, Chang Er!

And now, the photos:

The girls weren't sure at first what to do with their lanterns, but neither were we, really. Should we write a Moon Festival marching song? Lyric contest begins now.

Lanterns lanterns lanterns! And Muriel eating sidewalk chalk!

Our little friend, who is only a few months older than Muriel, showed up looking two and a half somehow. Must be the ponies.

Once she gets something, she gets it. And that is a big bite of mooncake in her mitt.

I've had a lot of requests from the ladies to include Jim in some pictures, so, here he is. Looking good!

Another gratuitous shot, this one of Luna looking gorgeous... must have been good light that evening.

I like this one, and especially because Muriel is still fixated on the moon over our house.

And because who knows when I will post again, let me take this chance to send a big shout-out to the newest member of the Daddytude clan. Welcome Baby David, and good job, Tudes!

Campy

Even after a five day Labor Day weekend (ahhh), I still didn't find the time to clean my house, send off many baby gifts and cards and late birthday presents and photos of my kids, and update the blog. Now that another crazy (though short) week of work is behind me, I am starting to wonder if things are ever going to settle down. And it is this feeling of rushed, stressed, kid-nagging, husband-alienating, work-struggling excess that has me longing for a simpler time, when dishes were washed in a dishpan, when strong women cooked noodle hotdish in the open air, when small children were held on "vault toilets" so as not to be lost forever, when neighbors could attempt to fall asleep while listening to their other neighbors swap loud stories around the fire, just a few feet away, late, late into the night.

So, really, this simple time was last week, and it was pretty fun. The camping out part was really fantastic. The girls got muddy, our campsite was next to a little brook (which Naomi kept delightedly referring to as a waterfall), there was much stick and rock and leaf and mud imaginary play, we saw a little cute mouse scurrying around, and the meals I planned worked out just fine (though, if you know how to make toast whilst camping, please leave a comment...). The sleeping part was pretty disastrous. The campground was in the flight path of Seatac airport, and all the landing planes seemed to be about a hundred feet overhead, every ten minutes. The neighbors were a big group, a family reunion, maybe? who despite having claimed five or six of the campsites in the area had to make their fire twenty feet from our tent, sit around it and make chat late into the night (who can blame them, right?), and feed it with new logs which they insisted on chopping with an axe at 11 pm. After they had awakened Muriel (rats!), and she could absolutely not get back to sleep because of the chopping sounds and the light and shadows dancing on the tent wall, I was forced to morph into a person I swore I would never be, the person who totally kills someone else's fun by claiming their right to quiet hours with the excuse "We have little ones who are having trouble sleeping." Who says "we have little ones"...?! Not me! But, yeah, me now.

I tried to avoid saying anything about the noise, because I knew my kids would be up EARLY and there would be no shushing them. Sure enough! We didn't have a clock handy, but we got up when they did, made some leisurely breakfast, packed up our tent, chatted with the sweet apologetic campfire gang from next door, got everything into the car, and drove down the way to the beach park, where we discovered that it was all of 8:30. So, yeah, I told them to be quiet and then still woke them up way earlier than any camper should be required. Sorry! We gave them our firewood.

Anyway, camping pictures- let's see how many the internet lets me upload before I doze off...