Speed racer

My son has joined the cub scouts. My husband and I thought it would be a good way for him to make new friends. As an added benefit, it has provided him an opportunity to spend more time with his dad. They've both benefited. My son hangs out with kids his age, gets to work on cool projects with his dad, and has a boyish activity all his own. My husband has an excuse to work with power tools. Last Sunday was the culmination of one such project: the Pinewood Box Car Derby. When my son joined "the Wolf Pack", he received a small, hard plastic case with a block of wood and instructions. In a nutshell, he was to design and build a car to race against his troop. My son designed a fierce looking race car, my husband sawed the block of wood into shape, and my son sanded it down. Together they painted it fire engine red, and trimmed it with bright yellow lightening bolts. With the wheels hammered on, and the little Lego man taped into place, they were ready to go. My husband was tempted to call his Eagle Scout brother-in-law for advice, but real men don't need no stinkin' advice!

That afternoon, the men came home victorious! My son had placed second in his very first Pinewood Derby Race, behind a...submarine. And he had qualified for the district competition. That day, they spent a lot of time discussing the improvements they would make to their creation, and comparing it to the others there: The submarine, the skinny one, the block of wood with the crayon designs and wheels. The giggled and smiled as they told me about the cool race tracks and the funny cars. It was beautiful seeing them so relaxed and happy. They don't get the chance to spend time together so often with my husband's law school schedule. It's great that they've made the time.

My son has been quite a bit more relaxed lately. He seems to be enjoying himself more at school, in general. I've seen it in the way he breezes through his assignments without too much complaining, and the way he makes time for his little sisters. Best of all, he's no longer complaining about the other boys in class. He's either managed to work things out, or he's at peace with the whole elementary school dynamic. He is sweeter, more thoughtful, and more affectionate than at any other time since we moved here.

I am especially loving watching him playing with his sisters, and reading to the baby. It's hard to believe that he's almost in third grade. It sounds so old! Last weekend he passed yet another small milestone, and lost another tooth. Another one is wiggling. I'm not sure how he's going to eat with all of these teeth coming out. I may have to feed him mushy foods through a straw! At the very least, I'm enjoying teasing him about it.

Today is the first day we've all been free from the sniffles, coughs, and sneezes of winter for months. My husband and I spent all day yesterday cleaning up the apartment. My dearest Skokie Sistah took the diva for an afternoon playdate, and brought her back with a yummylicious dinner for us. Thank goodness, because my son was nervously eyeing the ingredients I had laid out.

Today I was called in to substitute teach for the physical education teacher at my son's school. I was stuck with 7th and 8th grade boys classes. I was reminded of why I disliked teaching young kids after suffering the abuses of squirrely pubescent boys. Yech! Never again! Give me my kvetchy college kids any day! I wish to take this moment to salute all teachers out there. You deserve a decent paycheck and a medal of honor for all that you do! Putting up with 13 year old boys, and actually managing to get something stuffed into those crusty brains of theirs is nothing short of miraculous!

My husband's Spring Break is ending, and the kid's Passover break is right around the corner. We're moving into Passover preparation hyper-drive now. We got the rest of the apartment cleaned, and now we're eyeing the kitchen with a mix of fear and determination. I picked up 8 boxes of aluminum and plastic kitchen wares from "the disposable kitchen". For a week, we're transforming this place into an environmental disaster zone, but there's no room for real dishes or pots or pans for Passover. We had to sell just about everything when we moved from San Antonio. The one consolation is that at least I won't be wasting precious water washing everything.

In the meantime, the last batch of challah dough is in the bread machine, before it gets cleaned out and packed away. We're down to the bare-bones in our pantry. I'll be whipping up a lovely pasta-rice-kasha souffle or something just to get rid of the non-Passover stuff. I'm just about ready to start the consolidating and clearing phase, where I start tossing out or cooking random things in my pantry in order to make room for Passover goods. Some of the most creative and ingenious cooking occurs over the next week. Let's see... a can of pumpkin puree, Israeli olives and pickles, and onion soup mix...ahah! the perfect marinade for...er...my leftover fish sticks! Mmmm.

There's a kid's song that is roughly translated as: Great joy, great joy, Spring has arrived and Passover is coming! No adult in their right mind is singing that right now, but after one taste of my pumpkin and pickle fish sticks, we'll all be dancing and singing for Passover!