Worms and leopards and alchemists

Ada and I took our third shopping trip together, as requested for her birthday.

Followed, as usual, by Cheesecake Factory.

It was such a good day, full of bargain hunting, shopping-til-we-dropped, and a good bit of giggling.

The school year marches on.  We've passed the one-third mark for the year.  

I struggle with science.  Despite my track record with worms, I was sure that this experiment would be like a worm spa, full of dirt and rotten leaves and all manner of good things.  We layered up the wormy goodness, added 4 worms (we each got to name one), put the jar in the closet for 4 days, and waited for the worms to mix up the layers.  

Unfortunately, Day 4 revealed only tragedy.

I was disappointed.  I had hoped for better things.  I sighed and said, "Poor wormies."  Caleb optimistically said, "Well, now they can go to heaven."

Below is the one picture I remembered to take on Halloween.  I plead not guilty by reason of worrying about the weather, in which I was justified a few days later when it was reported that a tornado touched down 6 miles from our house.

Our kids, dressed respectively as a rock star (I forget which one, he's famous and he wears makeup), a Gryffindor student, a witch, and an army guy, did not blow away while trick-or-treating, although they did get pretty wet.

"ma I hav a slipovr!" [May I have a sleepover?]
This photo was successfully designed to tug on Grandma's heartstrings and get Caleb what he asked for.

Tracing maps of Europe.

My favorite podcast these days is Happier with Gretchen Rubin (although I do love a good geek-out with Harry Potter and the Sacred Text). 

I was interested in an episode I heard recently on Leopards and Alchemists.

Leopards are people who don't try to change their spots, so to speak.  They're happy with who they are.  Alchemists are always trying to cook up change, to transform themselves into something different.  The question in the podcast was, which one are you?

I quickly self-identified as an alchemist.  Content with who I am?  Not naturally.  I wish I was energetic, like the people I know who remind me of hummingbirds.  I wish I enjoyed my kids climbing all over me.  I wish I wasn't socially awkward.  I wish I wasn't prone to depression and anxiety. 

Gretchen points out that as an alchemist, "I am miserable because I am always wanting to be something else than I am."  Leopards, on the other hand, "know who they are, and they don't worry about everything they aren't." 

That sounds so nice!  Maybe instead of trying to cook up an elixir to make myself friendly and energetic, I'll spend my energy wishing I was a leopard.