Camper of the Week
I know I’ve been promising for a while to explain Camper of the Week, or if you’re of the wiser (read: older) generation, Best Camper, to all you readers who are unfamiliar or for those of you who have struggled all your life to explain the importance of having your name on a piece of plywood hung up in the dining hall of a little camp in the mountains of New Mexico. If you were a camper and ever wondered how camper of the week was chosen, keep reading…I will reveal the secret process. If you really don’t want to know, skip a few paragraphs and then continue reading and enjoy the photos.
Camper of the week was the biggest deal at Brush Ranch. I’m sure other camps do something similar, but it was a really, really, big deal. Like…huge deal. Seriously. How can I emphasize it more? I really can’t, this is getting ridiculous.
“Traditional Camp,” as we called it was a 4 week session of camp and there were two sessions each summer, “first term” and “second term.” Each week, one male and one female camper were chosen by their peers and by the staff as “Camper of the Week.” The counselors who taught art were tasked with designing and painting the boards where each name was written. There were 2 new boards each summer, one for the girls, one for the boys. These boards were hung up in late May each year (during the lovely manual labor period before camp started) in the dining hall and displayed all summer. The most recent boards were propped on the mantle of the fireplace that was the center of the dining hall, they were not to be missed! The process for selecting Camper of the Week was a mystery to me until I joined the staff. Here’s how it went down: Each camper submitted the name of one of their cabin mates each Sunday. These names were then taken by the counselors to the meeting held on Sunday afternoons during rest period. { Sidebar: During those meetings, the older campers would be put in charge of the younger campers. These meetings would sometimes last for HOURS. As a camper I remember this being the best time…hardly any supervision, no required time on our bunks, pretty much just friendship bracelets, hair wraps, and blanket forts (I’m sure this was a bit different in boys camp)… for 2 hours or so! I LOVED Sunday afternoons. I will say that one of the reasons I loved it so much was that it was a time where the younger campers really got to interact with the older (much cooler) campers. } Every single camper who received a nomination from their peers was talked about in that meeting, and it didn’t matter if the person only received one vote or 10, they were all discussed as possible Campers of the Week. Granted, by discussed, I mean that it was sometimes a resounding, “NO,” from the entire staff, but still…everyone got a chance. The nominees were usually narrowed down from there until there were 3 or 4 left and then there was an anonymous vote by secret ballot. This vote included cabin counselors, anyone who supervised activities, camp directors, and other administrators. The votes were tallied, the winner announced, there were usually lots of smiles, and then the meeting was over. Everyone who voted and was a part of the meeting was sworn to secrecy, and this secrecy was taken really seriously! The counselors would head back to their cabins where their campers would spend the afternoon trying to find out who was Camper of the Week.
That afternoon, the art teachers would lock themselves in the art shed and paint away. The first Sunday of camp was when the board was unveiled for the first time, with much anticipation from the more seasoned campers. Sunday evenings was Vespers, and this is where the big reveal happened. The entire camp gathered to reflect on the week that had just passed and to take a breath before starting the next week. There was always a touching program often with poems or songs and a few inspirational words. I wrote a few posts about Final Vespers which happened the last week of each term. Those posts can be found here: one, two, and three. At the end of Vespers, my parents would stand up with the Camper of the Week boards. The boards were facing away from the crowd, always leaning up against their legs. Then one of them would begin describing the Camper of the Week. The descriptions began vague enough that each camper thought it might actually be them! Then they became more and more specific until it was almost obvious who was being talked about and then they would turn the board around while simultaneously ripping the piece of paper covering the persons name and say, “And Camper of the Week in Girls Camp is Kelly Rigsby!” (I decided to use Kelly’s name because she’s my cousin and I knew she wouldn’t mind, also, she got Camper of the Week probably 1,000 times, so…they did say that exact phrase a few times throughout the 90s!) And then clapping and crying and general happiness always engulfed the crowd. I cannot remember a time when the staff made a mistake selecting the Camper of the Week. It was always right. Always.
Below is a gallery of many of the boards. We sold most of the boards on eBay several years ago and the rest were lost in the move, but the memories are alive and well! If you have a board hung up in your house, send me a photo and I’ll create a gallery.
Also, please be on the lookout for a BIG Brush Ranch announcement here and on the Brush Ranch Facebook page (if you’re not a member of the Facebook group already just search Bruch Ranch Camps and request to join) in the coming weeks. I’m talking big y’all, this is something you don’t want to miss!
Birthday Slideshow
After yesterday’s epic fail of incomplete slide show at the time I felt like the blog post about the birthday needed to happen, I’m trying again. (The awesome part was that the video was actually ready to go about 30 minutes–not 180–after I published my last post. Thanks computer, thanks a lot.) My dear mother also pointed out to me that I entered Rylan’s weight wrong, it has since been corrected and for those of you who just can’t bear to re-read my last post, he’s 16 lbs 5 oz., not 14 lbs 5 oz. Oops!
Another quick update about our birthday week “situation:”
Sunday, Rylan had a fever.
Monday, Rylan had a fever. I took Neala to urgent care for pink eye.
Tuesday, we went to the doc for their one year check up and opted not to do shots just yet since they were both a bit sick.
Wednesday, Rylan had some kind of nasty in his diaper this morning and an awesome rash all over his little body. He’s the saddest boy. We went to the doc and it’s just a virus.
Like sprinkles on his birthday cupcake, right? Poor dude.
Happy Birthday babies.
And I’ll leave you with the slideshow as promised (I know some of the photos are a bit fuzzy and not cropped perfectly…you can thank iMovie for that, but you’ll get the point). It is SUPER long (like almost an hour). Sorry. I just couldn’t decide which photos to eliminate, so I just didn’t eliminate any. Also, I chose the music based on what we’ve been listening to this past year, not necessarily based on lyrics or anything (though some are fitting), so please, don’t judge my music taste. And, for the record, I’m happy T-Swift has chosen to go pop music on us. And one more thing for the record: I myself have yet to watch this entire slideshow, so…please, don’t feel obligated!
365 Days: Happy Birthday Babies!!
One year ago today, our lives changed forever. Big time. It is absolutely bizarre to think that exactly 365 days ago at this hour I was sitting in the hospital basically unable to sit up and definitely unable to walk. I had only been able to get a quick glimpse of my babies who were, at this point, just a few hours old. I couldn’t have imagined what the next year had in store for us, and it really has been amazing.
I have said countless times how thankful I am for the nurses and doctors who saved all three of our lives, but I’ll say it again…THANK YOU! The men and women who cared for us, and have continued to care for us for the past year are incredible people and I am forever grateful for their compassion, kindness, talent, skill, and understanding!
Our year has been full of ups and downs. Endless diapers. Endless bottles. A round or two of antibiotics. Baby jail. High chairs. Swaddle sacks (seriously, these have saved our sanity). Long walks and short walks. Drives. Carseats. Doctor visits. Sunshine. Family. Friends. Food. Coffee. That darn breast pump. Socks falling off. Smiles. Laughter. Pure joy. Sleep deprivation. Runny noses. Love. Baby monitors. Cheerios. Cheese. Teething. Spit-up. The world’s most patient and annoying dogs. And tons and tons of photos.
I’ve thrown together this slideshow of a mere 1,152 of my favorites from the last year. Get a cup of coffee, sit down, and plan to stay a while, this one is LONG!
…..Oh wait, just kidding. I started working on this slideshow way too late (super early this morning instead of two weeks ago) and it’s not done exporting, it only has 180 more minutes, ha….boo…mom fail. Look for the video tomorrow!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABIES!
And a few stats for those of you keeping track:
Neala is now 25″ tall and weighs 14 lbs. 11 oz. and has 8 teeth (that she’ll let us see). Her favorite food is Cheerios and her smile grows brighter every single day. She loves laughing and shrieking, is crawling like a maniac and pulling up on everything in sight and can now stand on her own too! Nea is also getting really good at putting the square peg in the square hole with her toys! She has also mastered the pincer grasp.
Rylan is now 26″ tall and weighs 16 lbs. 5 oz. and has 6 teeth (that he’ll let us see). Rylan’s favorite food is food. Seriously, the kid will eat anything. He absolutely loves the dogs and will bark back at them when he hears them barking. He sort of says “dog” too! He loves to laugh too and when the kid is on a mission he puts his head down and crawls like a little bull. He too, is pulling up on everything and is cruising around holding on to furniture and such. He loves to stand and play with his toys.
We celebrated the day by sleeping in…in our beds that is. Until 6:07 a.m.. And then by heading to the doctor to discuss regular one year things along with the pink eye, fevers, and stomach bug that have plagued our house. Then we went for an inter-city (no, not inner city) drive to get the babies to take their morning nap. Then we gorged on double meat cheese burgers (Five Guys burgers added the extra meat at no charge…thanks? I guess?). Next up, more naps, playtime, bed…just the usual.
The Perfect Pajamas (and other things)
While it may seem ridiculous to dedicate an entire blog post to pajamas, it’s a topic that’s been weighing heavily on me these last few weeks. Also, this is a big gift buying time of the year and if you’re planning on purchasing any pajamas for small children, I want you to be well prepared.
Pretty much since our kids started crawling, changing diapers and clothes is a NIGHTMARE. For example, Rylan woke up with a poopy diaper yesterday and the moment he heard the sound of the diaper being undone, woosh…there goes his hand, right into the poop. Yay. And then there’s the constant attempts to flip over into a crawling position while being changed. And the standing up on the changing table with bits flying, smearing little finger prints on the window and waving at all the folks passing by (none, usually). There’s usually a moment of relief for mommy or daddy when we give them something to chew on. Their favorite thing is their hairbrush. Seems sort of gross to me, but not anywhere near as gross as a handful of poop. But, the novelty of the hairbrush wears off pretty quickly and the squirming begins anew and with vigor. Yes, vigorous squirming. That’s exactly what it is!
This what “vigorous squirming” looks like
Oh! Look! the hairbrush! Clearly, the novelty has already worn off at this point.
Anyway, back to the pajamas. For some reason, and maybe because it’s the end of the day when we’re dealing with “jommies” as we refer to them, they are the most difficult to put on a vigorously squirming child. When jommie time comes, I dig through the drawers (which are usually empty because I hate putting away laundry, so “dig” may not be the correct verb here) to find the perfect jommies. And, they don’t exist in my world, no matter how many times I look in the empty drawers, full laundry basket, or dryer full of wet clothes (because I’ve forgotten to turn it on…again). So here we go, the perfect pajamas for small children include the following:
1. Zipper (NOT SNAPS)
This is huge! SNAPS SUCK. I hate snaps on pajamas. Inevitably there are about 4,000 on each pajama and getting them to match during vigorous squirming is damn near impossible. Zipper pajamas are the best. (I will say that if you have a child in the hospital, snaps are pretty necessary for all the tubes and wires, but this is really the only time you’ll ever want snaps.)
2. Feet
Make sure your pajamas have a zipper. Zipper pajamas are the best. Oh, wait, this was about feet…yeah, that too. If your kids are anything like mine, socks are made for pulling off and chewing on, so feet that are permanently attached to zipper pajamas are key.
3. Zipper that starts at the top and goes to the bottom
For a brief moment I thought that snaps might actually have a place in the world of children’s pajamas because there are those middle of the night diaper changes and it can get a little chilly from time to time, and not exposing your baby’s entire front side (by unzipping) might keep them from getting too cold. Then, I ran into a pair of pajamas that had a zipper that started at the top and zips down to the bottom, so when unzipping, you could potentially leave the top part zipped, thus, not exposing your child’s entire front side! This elusive top down zipper is very hard to find and to date, I’ve only found one.
4. A tiny bit of elastic around the ankles
Number 2 above explains the necessity of feet in pajamas, however, one thing almost all pajamas with feet lack is a tiny bit of elastic around the ankle to keep the feet on the dang feet! My kids are forever ending up with their feet up where their knees should be and then, smack–face plant.
There you have it. Four requirements is really not that many. Come on Carter’s, get with it (or Circo, or Gymboree…)!
Ok, now the “and other things” part of the post:
If you’re buying bibs for someone (or your own children), the ones with velcro are useless once your child realizes they have hands. Buy bibs with snaps (not pajamas though!).
Shoes. Buy shoes with laces, not velcro. See above about bibs and hands.
Onesies and shirts are best if they don’t require any fastening around the neck area. There are lots of them out there that have snaps on the shoulder. These are a huge pain. Onesies that go right over the head and snap at the crotch are the best. Simple and “easy.”
So that’s it, there you have my shopping guide for the holiday season. Good luck!
I Didn’t Expect to Feel This Way
The twins turned 11 months old last week. It’s sort of unbelievable. I’ve had every emotion imaginable in the last 11 months, but the most recent caught me a bit off guard.
We had a friend who recently had her second baby. We were so excited when they announced their pregnancy because we knew it meant that we’d have kids fairly close in age. She had a normal pregnancy and then went into labor a few days after her due date. I was so happy that she’d carried full term. She was really our first very close friend to have a baby since we had ours that cold night back in December that I will never, ever forget. Naturally, I was a bit worried when she went into labor, as I’m still in the frame of mind that anything can go wrong and it’s very hard for me to remember that my circumstance is not necessarily the norm when it comes to giving birth (if you haven’t read the birth story, find it here). Alas, her labor progressed normally (and quickly) and a few hours later they had their little boy.
Several days later I asked how much he weighed, mostly because that’s what you do when people have babies…you ask the stats. It’s almost like saying, “Hi, how are you?” It’s just something people do. And then the answer came: 10 pounds and 5 ounces! And here’s where I was caught completely unprepared for my own emotions. I had a flood of GUILT. Yes, I was happy for them that they’d had such a healthy big boy, and I might have expected to feel jealous more than guilty, but guilt was what I felt.
I felt guilty that I had not been able to carry our babies to term, or even to 35 weeks (which was a goal of mine). I felt guilty that they were so small, that they had to stay in the hospital for 78 days after they were born. After I felt this flood of guilt, I remembered that this was the way I felt every day they stayed in the hospital and I went home. I did my absolute best to have a healthy pregnancy, and really, I did have a healthy pregnancy up until the final hours, so I really have no reason to feel guilty about anything. I did everything in my power to keep those babies in as long as possible!
I realize that these feelings are completely irrational, but I’m learning that much of motherhood is that way, and the things I worry about and fret about are unreasonable, but I think I’ve discovered that most of my feelings are what they are because of my deep and profound love for my two children. Never have I loved anyone or anything so much (sorry babe, I grew these little humans…) and I can’t really explain where it comes from. I think the love of a parent for a child is something that can’t be understood until you have a child of your own.
And, on a lighter note…here’s a brief update about our twins:
1. They are 11 months old. It’s crazy.
2. They’re doing really well.
3. They are practicing eating solids, though Rylan has taken to eating real food much better than Neala. No surprises there.
4. They are crawling like maniacs
5. They laugh and smile all the time
6. They’re sleeping through the night and usually take two pretty decent naps during the day (read: our bathroom is cleaner than it’s been in 11 months because I have a few more spare moments to clean it).
And in honor of National Prematurity Awareness Day, here are some before and after pics of our little preemies.
Happy Monday everyone!
Peanut Butter & Jelly and “Mochas”
Ok, are you ready, this will be my first post in a while that is all encompassing: twins, Brush Ranch, and residency. You’re welcome.
In case anyone was wondering, I’m still pumping (refer to this if you don’t know what I’m talking about). I’ve stopped actually breastfeeding (don’t worry, this is not a whole post about breastfeeding). Neither kiddo ever latched all that well and then they started biting. Game over. I am still keeping up with the babies as far as volume goes, so that’s good, and I’m on a pretty good schedule that allows me to pump 3 times a day, and two of those times while the babies are sleeping. I did a rough calculation the other day and based on how many calories each ounce of breastmilk contains, I expelled approximately 1,100 calories in one day last week!!! Here’s where the peanut butter & jelly comes in.
I cannot get enough food. I’m starving all the time. I gained 40 pounds during my pregnancy (and 6 before that to be at a healthy pre-pregnancy weight) and I’m down below all of that now. I eat breakfast twice. I have a mid morning snack. I have lunch and then I snack all afternoon before dinner, then dinner, then a snack before bed. And about a gallon of water (if I’m on top of my game) and I’m still hungry most nights.
My go-to snack has been peanut butter and jelly on a tortilla. I eat over a dozen tortillas a week. Yikes…that’s a lot! I’m pretty lazy and don’t bother to heat anything up or add anything fancy. When Patrick makes us PB&J, he heats up the tortilla with a little butter, and sometimes adds banana. Yes, folks, we are living a life of luxury.
Oh, look…someone barfed on a tortilla on a plate…just kidding…it’s apricot jam. Yum. (food pics, not my forte)
Every time I eat a PB&J I am reminded of my days at Brush Ranch and how eating camp food all day, every day for 21 summers is a lot. It’s no wonder there were entire weeks of my life in the summer when all I would eat was PB&J, I mean, a girl can only eat meatloaf turned taco meat turned sloppy joe so many times in her life.
In the dining hall at camp there was always a table set up with PB&J fixings. We didn’t want anybody starving and most kids would eat that if they wouldn’t eat the mystery beef (this was before the days when every kid ever had a peanut allergy). At the end of each meal it was a sight to be seen. Jelly and honey everywhere! The floor was sticky, the wall was sticky. The empty plastic bags from the bread were stuck together with bits of peanut butter and honey. Yum. But…this was always one of my favorite things. I freaking love peanut butter and jelly, even into my 30s.
In thinking about my adventures with PB&J during my camp days, I remembered another little gem that kept me going on those early mornings. (A meeting at 7:30 every day is too much.) Of course, there’s no Starbuck’s in the Pecos Canyon, and there certainly wasn’t a barista in sight at Brush Ranch, so, we had to get creative. Also, Sysco brand coffee is pretty nasty. Every morning I’d grab my coffee mug and put a little non-dairy cream in the bottom (did you know that stuff is super flammable and is really fun to throw on a campfire?!), then add a half packet of hot chocolate, and then fill the cup with coffee and stir. Voila! Mocha!
Over the last few months, one of my favorite activities is walking to coffee shops with the babies, enjoying some fancy drink, and then walking home. Not good for the bank account. Not good at all. In case you didn’t already know, being a resident is not like being a doctor when it comes to the paycheck. Not at all. We really can’t afford for me to be buying a $4 drink 5 days a week. And so, last week, I made us “mochas.” Patrick only drank half of his. Maybe it’s an acquired taste. I think I’ll go make one for myself now. I’m really going to have to improvise though because I have no non-diary creamer, and no hot chocolate mix…soy milk, sugar, and cocoa powder, here I come!
If you make the coffee in a French press, it’s almost fancy, right?