Burnt Island: best field trip ever

At the parent curriculum night at the beginning of fifth grade, the teacher told us that the kids have the opportunity to go on an overnight field trip at the end of the year to Burnt Island.  I was sold immediately and started collecting possibilities of how much fun that would be. 

Fast forward through Ella's fifth grade school year: countless friendship dramas, gaining confidence that showed out in the world, a blur of gymnastics practices and meets, becoming a bold and skilled skier, becoming a bold and skilled preteen, getting a hand-me-down iPhone (wi-fi connected only) and losing it around every corner by perfecting the use of sarcasm and a well-placed eye roll and suddenly it was time to board the ferry to Burnt Island. 

Ella and I would be tenting so I hauled all of our backpacking and camping gear out and got to work. Sandi said, "Have you ever put the tent up by yourself?" When we camp Sandi does the gear and I do the food and clothes and supplies. So the night before the trip, while Sandi was at work, the girls and I put the tent up in the living room. 

It is actually really challenging to put a tent up in a small living room. 

Maya said, "Are you sure I should be helping you? Because you know I am not going to be there when you actually have to do it?" Like we were going to be on Survivor or something. 

Ella filled the backpack with only half her stuff in it and said, "It doesn't all fit, Mom." I  took it all out and said, "Watch and learn, El." I rolled and smooshed into ever corner of the backpack. When it came time to shove her pillow and stuffed animal in there (both of which were contraband and we were told if you bring them, don't show them) I said, "You might want to look away. This won't be pretty for poor Daisy..."

Ella's young and energetic teacher (who ironically went on this very trip as a fifth grader himself) was a total rockstar making sure these kids had a safe framework that allowed them freedom to learn and explore. There were 27 students, 15 parent chaperones and 2 teachers. Talk about a robust adult to student ratio! As soon as the kids got off the bus he had them move around and then randomly get in a line and sound off, beginning with the number 1 and going up to 27. Periodically, as we would transition between activities, he would have them sound off to make sure everyone was accounted for.

I love stealing ideas from teachers. This summer I will be on the beach and say, "Sound off!" Maya will say, "One!" and Ella will roll her eyes at me.

Most of you who know me know that sometimes I struggle with having my primary identity being that of "Mom" and all the pedestrian parts of shuffling and shlepping and laundry and groceries and cleaning that go with it. I work hard to nourish my brain cells and feed myself outside of my mom role so I can be a successful and (mostly) present mom to our girls.

And then there are trips like this where I spend nearly every second in wonder and appreciation that I get to be mostly a mom, a mom who can spend 2 whole days and an overnight with my daughter on an amazing trip. It is way better than any paycheck I could receive. I am acutely aware of it when I have a dear friend and a wife who would ache to go on this trip but have to work.

So I just kept repeating the mantra: "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." In between texts to the various parents who I kept sending photos to of their kids having the time of their lives.


I was the parent rep for both Bella and Skyler:

Burnt Island is a 5 acre island off the coast of Boothbay. It has a small ferry to it and can be easily accessed by kayak. 

The island is beautiful and enchanting and so alive with history. The keeper of the island, Elaine Jones, is one of the most dynamic women I have ever met. She knows every last wrinkle there is to be known about the history of the light, the ocean and creatures, the maritime history of the region and the long line of lighthouse keepers and their families. She is an excellent storyteller and I could sit and listen to her for hours. 

When Sandi and I had kids we mostly gave up backpacking. I think we have been once in the past 12 years. I love this picture because Ella is wearing my backpack that she hauled around herself! Feels like coming full circle.

 Tent status: we were able to put the tent up. Even without Maya. However, the fly was touching the tent which it shouldn't and can lead to a wet interior if it rains. I tried (for about 2 minutes) to problem solve that but was unsuccessful.

Not surprisingly, when I selected by tenting spot by its proximity to the bathroom, I failed to realize that I had set up it adjacent to the only grave on the island. For real.

We put the tent up and 5 seconds later Ella said, "I think I want to sleep in the bunk house with my friends."

And just like that I was camping alone on Burnt Island. In a tent that was improperly set up for the rain we, of course, had. No big deal. Everything was damp but no rain fell inside. I was quite pleased to wake up in the morning and find that my almost 40 year old body could still sleep on the ground in the damp and move just fine.

It is hard to describe how much fun this trip was. It was so well planned and executed that it was incredibly education while also being a total blast. The only complaint? It went by way too fast.

 Elaine Jones is responsible for acquiring enough funding to build the Burnt Island Educational Center, complete with a dining room, kitchen and flush toilets as well as a bunk house upstairs.

Soon it was to the beach to dig up sand worms for fishing. The green crabs were just a bonus. 

Turns out Bella was a little more freaked out by the sea life than Ella or Skyler. 

Who doesn't love a tidal pool and all the creatures therein?

We did a GPS hike (like geocaching but rather than exchanging trinkets the kids traced symbols to prove they had been at the locations they were supposed to be at) that concluded with solving a bit of Burnt Island trivia to get the location of their final treasure (a bag of Skittles).

The kids learned a bit about lobstering and painted their own buoys.

The last day we did a very cool Amazing-race inspired hunt all over the island using compass navigation skills and decoding. They were split into teams of 4 and made their own flags representing each team member by their coded name. 

While the kids were learning compass skills to use in the race I decided it would be a good time to hike back to the bathroom. As I was making my way back to the group, a cluster of parents were walking along with Elaine. I thought I would make myself useful and join these parents that were clearly on a mission. Turns out they were going to be in charge of the stations the kids would be visiting. Sounds good. Then Elaine says, "Is there anyone who wants to volunteer to float in the ocean in a survival suit so the kids can try to rescue you? You would be in the ocean for about an hour." 

Come again? 

Now I can be overly ambitious from time to time. But there are some things I just know I cannot do. Floating in the water, in the ocean, for an hour is definitely one of those. Swimming in a lake is sometimes one of those. I have an unexplainable, deep seated fear of my legs dangling in the water where fish and turtles and monsters could bite off my toes. I make myself do it but it isn't without some light hyperventilation, a lot of self-talk and a some true grit that I swim in a body of water with creatures in it.

 Thankfully a very hearty dad was excited for the post and I was positioned on land (and near the coffee and the bathroom as luck would have it!). The kids had to decipher a "man overboard" code and find the right location to try to save the dad! It was the coolest. 

Later, when this activity was all done I heard the teacher say a thank you to the parents who had volunteered for the "adventurous" posts. I realized that, while I would have totally volunteered for it anyway, I had found myself in the adventurous group quite by accident when I emerged from the bathroom. Turns out having a small bladder could get you into trouble if you aren't careful.

Hands down my favorite activity of all was going up into the lighthouse at night. As Ella's teacher said: most people never get to go up in a working lighthouse and if they do it almost would never be at night. It was the coolest experience to think about these lighthouse keepers, back before GPS and satellite and charts, climbing these narrow spiral stairs and keeping the light aglow for all the mariners of yesterday. The stories Elaine told us about the elements the keepers would have to brave during storms to keep ice off the glass so it could be seen by the sea gave me goose bumps. They would have to go out onto the tiny deck with its flimsy railing during hurricanes to maintain that light. 

The light, a one inch bulb, looks enormous as it refracts through the glass. The windows of the lighthouse are red so when the light flashes every 6 seconds, it flashes red to the sea which indicates a specific message to the mariners (I think to take the island on the port side to slide safely into the harbor but don't quote me on that). 

I practically had to be dragged from the island I loved it there so much.

Back on the mainland, we got to visit the Maine State Aquarium for a bit before boarding the bus. We saw both baby lobsters (c'mon...how cute are they?) as well as a 17 pound lobster they estimate to be 30-40 years old.

The girls were really wowed by the touch tanks and specifically the shark tank. Okay, I was really wowed too. 

It has been a bumpy year, no doubt about it. But I look at this growing girl with such love and appreciation that I get to be her mother on this journey. Even if she would rather sleep with her friends in the bunkhouse than in a tent with her super fun mom. 

It's all good. 

Valentine's Dance

This year being in charge of the school family Valentine's Dance wasn't as terrifying as it was last year when I was the untrained, uninitiated head of the ship.  This time around I was still nervous I would forget something important, that something piece of the planning would be skipped (Did we clear the gym for after school?  Do we have coat racks and hangers to borrow?  Do we have someone to pick them up? Do we have enough food?  How much food did we need anyway?).  But in general as the dance approached I felt fairly relaxed and on top of things. 

 

And then we got the massive 'nor easter and I had to decide about cancelling or postponing. I had to once again send out flyers again to the 353 students in the school (I had already sent out the initial invite and the reminder just days prior to the snowstorm).  I had to get permission from the school to change the date, call the photographer, contact all my volunteers and take over the food organizing because the mom who was heading it up couldn't come once it was changed.  I basically had to go back and do everything all over again.   Plus the extra week had me tweaking and re-tweaking the dance play list. It is hard to say the hours I spent getting that just right.

 

I went from relaxed and chilled to a little bit of a stress case. I was jittery like someone who had had too much coffee. Wait, I had had way too much coffee.

 

And of course, I had signed myself up to make cookies. I know, I just can't help myself.  But can't you see why?

 

This is what Maya and I did Friday after lunch before we were due at the school for dance set-up:

 

I just want to say how much I LOVE that Maya likes to help me do this stuff. She takes it very seriously and is so proud of her work.

 

Well caffeinated and fingers crossed that I had everything I needed, we headed to the school.  I had gotten several emails from people telling me they couldn't make it.  On my way in to school, I passed a mom who apologized that she couldn't stay.  I thought I might cry.  There is simply too much work to do alone. 

Yet, to my amazement,  there was a group of parents there ready to work.   Some had been there last year and knew what to do.  For the others I gave them the lay of the land and told them they had complete creative freedom.  And then, seriously, every time I turned around another corner or wall was done.  It was a beautiful thing. 

I learned a lot from last year.  The tiny lanterns that hung singlely from the suspended ceiling frame that held the unseeable twinkling light inside?  Forget that. We hung the lanterns in groups, saving tons of time and put the battery operated lights on the table.  The tissue paper flowers that hung on a strand of fishing line over the food table? Nixed.  We scattered them on the walls.  We had a couple of parents bring their own ladders since last year that was a lot of waiting around for a ladder  I asked around until I found someone to bring an air compressor so we wouldn't have to blow up all the balloons by mouth like we did last year.  (I had brought my little one that blows up our air matress but it didn't work and we were left to the use of our lungs - that is how committed this group is.)

This year we got all the food donated and spent way less on decorations than last year, which should translate into a bigger profit for the PTO. I try to remind myself that the dance is fun in and of itself, but it is meant to be a PTO fundraiser.  I also got wise this year and asked the photographer to adjust his rates so the PTO could get a portion of his business.  I am anxious to see what the bottom line will be when it's all said and done.

I was enormously grateful for the two moms who hung the disco ball and its accompanying lights. This is by far the one thing that is entirely daunting to me. I simply do not have a brain that can latch on to the mechanics of hanging, mounting and the intricacies of electricity. You can show me how you did it but I likely won't remember for next year.  If you would just hang it and make it work, I will be forever in your debt.



Ashley and Billy, the twins parents, came to help out.  Many hands make light work.

Last year we started the decorating just after school (3 pm) and didn't finish until 8:30.  This year we were done by 6:30.  I was so proud of this group and so grateful for their help.  We had fun, listened to music and laughed.  The kids ate the pretzels and Goldfish I had brought, kicked balls around and ran the loop of the hallway, giggling and sweating and shedding layers as they went.   It makes me feel so blessed to be a part of this school community.

It is hard to show in pictures since it looked best in the dark.

 

I also want to say a huge thank you to Kohls.  Kohls has this program called the A-team (associates in action) where non-profit organizations that benefit children are eligible for the voluntary assistance of Kohls employees for an event plus a $500 grant.  They came once again this year and are just awesome.  Two women headed up the food table so no parents had to do that and miss their kids at the dance.  Another man, Richard, has come each year from before I was in charge of the dance and has taught me a ton about setting up the gym.  He was quite tickled that I had requested him by name this year.  He was at the school waiting for me to show up the afternoon of the dance, about an hour before his three hour block shift.  I just adore people like him. 

Ella holding the 50 helium balloons our local hardware store, Schact's, donated.  It was fun to hold them. You could actually feel the pull. 

As you can see, the girls had a wonderful time. 

 

Sandi flew in at 1, visited with us for a bit and then took a quick nap (she'd been up for 36 hours) while we headed to the school for last minute set up.  To the girls' delight she made it to the dance.  It was incredibly rewarding to see all the kids running, dancing, laughing on the dance floor with joy stamped all over their faces.  So many parents thanked me.  And a solid cluster of moms were out there with me dancing to the "YMCA." I also did a little Cotton-Eyed Joe.  But when the flashmob song came on, I held it in so as to not embarrass my child.

When the last song had played, I glanced around at all the hard work on the walls, the ceiling, the tables and sighed as I looked toward clean-up.  But the parents dug in and within 40 minutes the gym was clean and, except for some overflowing trash cans, it looked like we had never been there. It had snowed all afternoon and I dreaded the thought of driving around the back of the school in the dark to unload everything into the PTO shed with my danskos swallowed in snow. My friend Jess's husband Andrew offered to go with me.  He pointed his car so his headlights would shine on the shed, carried the heavy stuff and shone a flashlight so we could see where we were putting stuff. 

Sometimes all you really need is someone to hold the flashlight.

When I came home with arm loads of dirty platters and bowls to be washed and bags of all my own stuff I had taken for the dance, the girls were happily eating at the table with Sandi.  They thanked me for putting on the dance.  The relief I felt was like surfacing from the depths and gasping air into compressed lungs.  Sandi was home.  The dance was over.  I had made it.  I had done it.  And we were all okay. 

Sandi and I stayed up to talk for as long as we could before our burning eyes and dropping lids pushed us to bed.  We were asleep by 9:30 and it felt like 2 in the morning.

Success.