Camp Juju

The kids have labeled my remodeled guest apartment Camp Juju, and it's a hit. Last night an overtired Morgan fell down, was instantly pitiful. When asked if she wanted to go home, she said through her tears, "No, I want to go to Camp Juju."

The fun goes on. As you can above, cookie decorating is serious business--Jordan had sprinkles from wall to wall in her kitchen. Running under the hose and sitting in the back yard are serious too. And the picture of me? That's the oldest and youngest of our crew.

We're still having scheduling conflicts this morning. The crew at Jordan's house ate at nine, plan to ride the zoo train at 11. At ten the contingent at my house is waiting for the youngest, a morning napper, to wake up so we can go to breakfast. It is, as Jamie once said, like being in two different cities, and it's the reason I redid the apartment so it will sleep eight. But the babies are still too young. In a couple of years, the schedules should smooth out--but I bet there'll be another baby!

Tonight is the party, and I'm not sure what the kids have afoot. I do know it involves old family pictures, probably showing me at my worst, and this morning when I said I was going to have a bit of cottage cheese (one of my staples) Jamie whirled around and asked, "Did you say cottage cheese?" Then he rushed away as though on an important errand. I admit to much excitement but a little nervousness about the whole affair.