A Few Thoughts on Bounce Houses

As I write this post, I am sitting in a bounce house. No, don't worry, I'm not bouncing while writing. I am sitting in the parent observation section in the middle of the room, surrounded by bouncing plastic monstrosities.

Not sure how I feel about being considered a parent, although I don't mind being considered the responsible adult.

The lady I babysit for had some free visits, and it was too cold to play outside, so we bundled up and came here.

The door opened and I my eyes beheld a massive explosion of color and chaos.

We arrived just as the place opened. And when I say we, I mean the entire elementary school population of greater Greenville. And their parents. Or responsible adult.

The kids stowed their shoes in the little cubbies and ran into this magical plastic world, squealing with delight.

I sat down and began to observe.

The majority of children here are ages 4-7, although you are allowed to bounce until you are 10. There are a few ten year olds who are trying to pretend that they don't still love it here, and a few babies playing with toys on the floor, but most of the young patrons are running, frantic to get rid of all the post-school-pre-Christmas energy. Some are here for birthday parties, but most are here because their mother needed to get them out of the house.

Speaking of the mothers.

They are all tired. They sit on the plastic chairs, watching their children, drinking Diet Coke, and reading romance novels.

One is crying. She must be at a good part. UPDATE: I just got a look at her book. It is called "Finding the Dream." I'm sure it's a real thriller.

There are a few sets of grandparents reliving their childhood through their grandkids.

There is one middle aged couple holding hands and standing right next to their child, watching his every move.

I see one poor teenaged boy, probably dragged here by his mother, sitting alone and watching some basketball game on TV.

No, I don't know who's playing. I'm only 86% sure I got the right sport.

I don't know why, but I get the feeling that the most exciting thing any of these parents has done recently is sneaking in their own snacks, right past the college guy in a referee shirt at the front desk. Now that is what I call real skill.

Ok, I just had a mom ask me how old my kids are. I may need to get in the bounce house after all.

Remember, Remember the First of December

My family has many holiday traditions, starting with what we like to call, "December First"

We typically like to hold this occasion on December 1st.

You would think that with the high percentage of English teachers that make up the Yost/Stegall/ Hubbard clan that we would have come up with something more original by now. Unfortunately, we have not.

(We also like to call our weekly Sunday evening gathering, "Sunday Night." Go figure.)

Anyway, we have a party every year on the first of December. This annual tradition was started by my mother, aunt, and grandparents long before I was even thought of.

I don't think I'm supposed to end sentences with, "of." Oh well. All's fair in love and blogging.

The originally mission of December First was simple. Give each other gifts that can be used in the weeks preceding Christmas. I suppose my ancestors were tired of receiving holiday-esque gifts on Christmas day only to have to wait an entire year before putting them to use. Or they just liked having another excuse to spread Christmas cheer. Besides singing loud and clear, of course. Either way, our annual holiday kick-off celebration was begun.

I just love it when I am able to use sports in a semi-intelligible way.

For the past sixteen Christmases I have started off the season with my family's party. We have dinner, usually the last of the turkey made into my grandmother's amazing soup and cranberry Wensleydale cheese, open gifts, and then eat the Yost/Stegall/Hubbard TOP SECRET RECIPE Christmas Cranberry Cake.

It's so good I wish I could give you the recipe. But it's also so secret that I don't know it.

But this year, all that changed! Well, only one part of it changed, but when have I not been overly dramatic? No sense starting now!

This year we all kinda agreed that we had been given so, so much, and it was high time we shared with others. So instead of starting out the evening eating, we all met at Wally World to buy Christmas gifts for the ladies and gentlemen living in Miracle Hill facilities. The entire clan spread out all over the stores to fill shopping carts full of toys and soap and clothes and jewelry and balls and notebooks and just about anything else imaginable!

Yes, we got some strange, strange looks.

It was so great. Not the strange looks, I mean. but the whole shopping endeavor. Just wonderful. I am so incredibly blessed with absolutely everything I need, but there are so many people in my little Baptist, Republican, Southern community who aren't. And giving to them, especially around this happy season, was the best gift I could have received.

We Are Blessed

Today is Thanksgiving Day. Everything stands still and we eat.

And eat.

And eat.

I was in Tennessee for the holiday meal. My aunt and uncle live near Nashville, and my grandparents came down and we all ate dinner together. This was an unusual dinner for us, though. We ate out for dinner. My wonderful aunt found a restaurant called Monell's and we all headed over to eat. No prep, no clean-up, just food.

It was just great. Monell knows how to bake a turkey. Or cook or roast or grill or whatever one does to a turkey.

Here's the thing, though. We ate family style. As, expected, right? It's the family holiday and we ate as a family. In South Carolina, that's what family style is. Not in Tennessee, though.

Let me enlighten you. In Tennessee, family style means you eat with other families. You all sit around one big table and eat and talk and eat and get to know each other. And eat.

Now, at first I was skeptical. I know, big surprise. But it was nice. A good reminder of the big, beautiful, blessed world we live in that doesn't revolve around us.

And a new definition of family.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

I'm A Tweeter

THIS IS AN IMPORTANT NEWS FLASH. I am on twitter. I am a tweeter. I tweet. Whatever the cool lingo these days is.

My name is @margaretmaus.  Feel free to follow. I currently have one.

Be warned, however! I don't really tweet. I just read nerdy things like Jane Austen and Shakespeare and interesting museum facts. So don't get your hopes up:) But I'm active on social media. It's a big day.

Instead

We had the opening night of Richard III tonight. Throughout the course of the play, I thought, "I should write a blog post."

Instead I took a nap.

After my nap I thought, "I should write a blog post."

Instead I decided to become the Queen of England.

After I got home I thought, "I should write a blog post."

Instead I ate a spoonful of chocolate ganache."

After that delectable spoonful I decided to go to bed.

Instead I wrote a blog post.

Remember Me?

I don't even know if I remember how to post. How to write anything funny. It's not that I've forgotten about you, cyber world, but that I really haven't had anything especially inspired to write about.

But, fear not, I am alive. I am well. Life is running circles around me and I'm left in the dust, but that's ok. The dust can be a good place, I suppose.

In case you were wondering, here is a brief recap of the past few weeks of my crazy little life. In a list, no less. If you haven't noticed, I'm rather partial to lists.

1. In the weeks following the Wilds trip, I have done a whole lot of nothing.

2. I finished the first half of my Fundamentals of Electronic Media class, including a live webcast.

3. I managed to wear a green shirt on the day that I was assigned to do the weather, resulting in sunny skies along the midsection of the United States.

4. I continued training for my half marathon, the Spinx Run Fest, which I completed. Finally. I have not run since. I did love it, though! Running surrounded by hundreds of other people, hundreds of distractions pressuring  me to keep running. The race ends triumphantly. Each runner is announced as they enter the final stretch into the baseball stadium. I began to sprint, faster and faster toward the finish line, determined to beat the old woman in front of me. I passed her, and man, did that feel good until I realized that she was probably three and a half times my age. Yay! I beat her. Big whoop!

5. I worked concessions at my school's Speech and Debate tournament. I was actually the Crew Chief. You can only imagine how that went.

6. We got our high school mock trial case. It's a civil case about a woman who was eaten by bed bugs in a hotel. I have itched none stop since it came out.

7. Rehearsals for my dad's lay, Richard III, have been in full swing. I am playing Young Elizabeth, Richard's niece. It's the best part ever: no lines, two costumes, and I end up the queen at the end. The play open next week, so we're practicing a lot this week.

Oh, and if you want to, you can check out the trailer here: http://www.bju.edu/events/fine-arts/cod/richard.php. There are also some photos of yours truly, although I feel like I look half-asleep in most of them. You can be the judge of that.

That's pretty much all the interesting stuff. Or at least all I can remember at the moment. Oops, that's my cue!

Oh Brave New World!

I mentioned earlier that I spent a week in the mountains with my class. It was amazing. Absolutely incredible. At the end of the week, my fellow classmates voted me "Camper of the Week."

This may tell you why.

1. I only threw up once on the way up the windy rode, and that was after the bus stopped.

2. I rode the huge, enormous, terribly scary giant swing and opened my eyes at the top.

3. I allowed myself to be blobbed. That is, catapulted off of a giant air pillow into the frigid water below.

4. I played paintball. With a paintball gun. And I was wearing overalls. Enough said.

5.Although, I might add that I was only hit once and that it was in the armpit and that it didn't explode all over my shirt. Thank goodness.

6.  I hiked to the Fourth Falls.

7. I jumped in the freezing water and swam to the water fall.

8. I shot guns at the rifle range. Real guns. With real bullets.

9. I didn't throw up at all on the way home. This was the first time I have ever not thrown up.

10. I ran ten miles.

Now, I know you're dying to know what my prize was for all these accomplishments.

Well, wait no longer. I will tell you. A free coffee coupon that I forgot to use and a sticker from the back of a Chick-Fil-A cookie.

I know. I have really generous friends.