Sleepover Notes

I'm going to interrupt my camping stories to bring you this newsflash: my boys are going on their first sleepover tomorrow night. 

Their day camp is hosting an end of summer overnight event. They're going swimming, playing flashlight tag, having a pajama party, and watching movies. I'm sure they will get little sleep, eat lots of junk food and have a fabulous time.

As I packed their bags, I remembered my first non-family overnight. My Junior Girl Scout troup had a sleepover in someone's living room. I knew my fellow scouts a little, but I was still so shy and nervous. When it came time for bed I was homesick and struggled to hold back tears. I reached in the bag my mom packed for my toothbrush and my hand touched paper.  Upon investigation I found little notes tucked in my pajamas, my socks and even my underwear.  "Have fun!" "Say thank you!" "I'm proud of you!" "I love you!"

They made me smile and roll my eyes and feel very loved. As I snuggled down in my sleeping bag, that feeling warmed me and gave me courage. I stayed up most the night whispering and giggling with the other girls.

Should they need them, I hope these notes have the same effect.

But no whispering with girls.

Sixty-four

Today would be my mama's sixty-fourth birthday.

Mom was the ultimate girlie-girl. She curled her hair every day, wore makeup and manicured her nails. For years, she did her own acrylics. She mixed the smelly chemicals, painted goo over forms, trimmed and filed until her nails were perfect and smooth. She then painted them her preferred color: pink.

Every year on her birthday, as a silly tribute to her, Aunty M and I paint our (natural) nails pink.

This year, I made a big mess of mine. I got polish on my pajamas and all over my hands. I just noticed a dot between my fingers. How did I do that?

It's funny because I'm often told I'm like mom. Perhaps it's the mannerisms, my dark hair or love of day trips. It's certainly not my perfectly coiffed hair or neatly painted nails!

Thank God I have boys. I can play to my strengths. Perhaps that's what I got from her.

Happy Birthday, Mommy.

Mom putting curlers in my sister's hair - circa 1978

Nature vs. Nuture

Where did I get this love for day trips? It's the age old question of nature vs. nuture. Is it something I was taught? Or something I inherited? Is there a day trip gene entwined with those bestowing hazel eyes and a quick temper?

I've called my mother the Queen of Day Trips and she was.  Clever and creative, she had a genius for motherhood and day trips were her specialty. They were her answer to what to do with with three bored children, a small budget and her own desire to see the world.

Mom rarely told us where we were going and this mystery was part of what got us out of bed and in the car.  Fortunately for Mom and us, the list of potential destinations was long.  The mid-Atlantic is crowded with national parks, monuments and landmarks.  All of which have the added benefit of being free. 

Because these venues almost always represent a bit of our country's history, we coined them Mystery Day Trips of Probable Historic Value.* 

Just a few of the places Mom took us:

Antietam National Battlefield (Maryland)
Assateague Island National Seashore (Maryland, Virginia)
Clara Barton National Historic Site (Maryland)
Fort McHenry National Monument and Historic Shrine (Maryland)
Fort Washington Park (Maryland)
George Washington Birthplace National Monument (Virgina)
Gettysburg National Military Park (Pennsylvania)
Glen Echo Park (Maryland)
Great Falls Park (Virginia)
Harpers Ferry National Historical Park
(West Virginia, Maryland, Virginia)
Manassas National Battlefield Park (Virginia)
Mount Vernon (Virginia)
Stratford Hall (birthplace of Robert E. Lee - Virginia)
Williamsburg (Virginia)

These trips were the inspiration for this blog and many of the activities I now do with my own boys. Looking at the websites has my fingers itching to pack our backpack and go.

Given the weekend forecast, my time would be better spent working on that list of housebound activities.

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*There has been some debate among my siblings over who coined this phrase.  My sister claims it's hers.  I'm inclined to let her have it, because it's the kind of clever thing she'd come up with.  My inclination has nothing whatsoever to do with her history of biting.

Legacies

It seems only appropriate that I write about this today. Today would have been my Granddaddy's 86th birthday (and 66th wedding anniversary).

I've been thinking a lot about legacies. My family has never been materially wealthy, but the legacy I've received has been rich.

Every weekend (save one) since May the boys and I have ventured off on a day trip. Each time as I studied the maps, packed the car, got behind the wheel, and started singing our first song, I thought of Mom. I could feel her with me. I could feel her smile. And I could feel the joy of my children. It was like deja vu, except I was sitting in a different seat.

Our destinations have involved a lot of hiking and learning about the natural world. I can't walk through the woods without thinking of Granddaddy. I showed the boys a Jack in the Pulpit in Seneca Creek State Park and could clearly picture Granddaddy bending over to show me the same plant when I was small. He was my personal walking field guide.

So many people have commented on the boys and my travels. They talk about the great memories we're making. They can't believe we don't bring a DVD player or video game on a two hour drive. Some of them think I'm a little crazy. But to me this way you do it. This is what family trips are supposed to be.

This knowledge, this joy, this enthusiasm is the legacy I've inherited.