I Took My Teenager to Otherworld

Tbh, I thought for sure that she was going to ask to go to the Columbus Zoo, or at least the bookstore so large that they give you a map. 

But on the way home from our college visit we had enough time to do only one activity in Columbus, and Will chose, for perhaps the very first time ever when such a choice has been presented to her, not animals or books, but Otherworld, an immersive postmodern art installation.

It was SO GREAT!!!

The premise is that you're exploring a mysteriously abandoned research facility, one that you learn has been exploring a connection between two realities, with results that seem to have gotten wildy out of hand. There's no handbook--or map!--to guide your explorations, as you wander between rooms, interact with what you find, and discover secret passages and hidden connections of your own:

Different artists designed different rooms, so there's no overarching organization to lull your senses:

I really loved this room, which had lighting that made you, too, look black and white:

Will discovered a secret passage in the guts of an arcade game that led us into the world inside the game:

The entire warehouse was a terrific multi-sensory experience, with the ever-expanding premise good for keeping your intellect engaged:

The mirror mazes were also pretty epic:

My favorite room was designed to look like a museum, with displays created by the research team's archivist:

I also really liked the mad scientist's laboratory:

It looks like we'll be traveling through Columbus pretty regularly over the next four years, as Will is now officially a Denisonian(!!!), so I guess we'll have plenty of time for the giant bookstore and the zoo on future visits.

Not gonna lie, though--I am MOST excited about Will being in shouting distance of an NHL franchise. I am thisclose to buying season tickets for next year so I can 1) have an excuse to visit my kid every home game, and 2) have an excuse to go to a LOT of hockey games by visiting my kid.

Go, Blue Jackets!

Non-Seasonal Craft Alert: Plaster of Paris Sugar Skull Models, Because We're Studying El Dia De Los Muertos in April

Okay, what we were ACTUALLY doing was putting together a Mexico-themed take-home kit for another Girl Scout troop as part of our Service Unit's World Thinking Day celebration, but as my kid was researching stuff we might want to include, she said, "We should study El Dia de los Muertos sometime."

Let's just ignore, for the moment, the fact that we HAVE studied El Dia de los Muertos before--many times, actually! With this kid, you have to strike like a viper when the iron is at its very hottest. 

Seriously, remember just the other day, when we went to the local historic cemetery so the kid could take reference photos for her AP Studio Art classes? While we were there, she was literally griping that these photos wouldn't come in handy at all, because her special focus for the class was absolutely going to be mushrooms, which she was super interested in and spent all her free time sketching in various forms. 

So after the cemetery, we drove to the public library to find her a couple of reference books on mushrooms that had big, glossy photos, but then I also put some other big, glossy mushroom reference books on hold for me at our local university's library. Those finally came in for me a couple of days ago, but when I excitedly handed them to her, she was all, "Ugh! More mushroom books?!? I am not even interested in mushrooms why must you always task me with these unendurable burdens blah blah blah gripe gripe gripe!"

And that is why, the very second that my kid mentioned wanting to study El Dia de los Muertos sometime, I was all, "OMG what a coincidence you said that! Because our very next project actually happens to be El Dia de los Muertos! Weird that I didn't bring it up before. Oh, right, and the project actually begins now! Yeah, yeah... you're going to... write a research paper, that's right. Definitely a research paper. And, uh... also you're going to model a themed craft for our take-home kit."

Her research paper is quite good, although I do not understand why I have to beg both of my children to include in-text citations and a Works Cited page--surely it's so much more effort to go back and remember all your sources and add the citations later?

Anyway, along with the research paper, the kids and I made sugar skull models from plaster of Paris, and then Syd embellished them with dimensional fabric paint. It's a super easy project that does have some prep time, but the results look really, really good. To make your own plaster of Paris sugar skull models, you will need:

• plaster of Paris. Any brand is fine, but Dap is what my local hardware store carries. When my kids were little, I used plaster of Paris to make them little figurines to decorate all the time. Plaster of Paris is pretty eco-friendly, and it takes all kinds of artist media like a champ. 
• skull mold. I used the skull mold we've had for years, most notably to make our mashed potato skulls every Halloween dinner. It was already on its last legs, and I wore it into the ground with this project. I'll have to keep my eye out for a new skull mold before next Halloween, because we can't do without our mashed potato skulls!
• dimensional fabric paint. These stick great to the plaster of Paris, and have a cute, puff paint look to them. They're a little spendy for what you get, though, so if you've got younger or messier kids, you might as well put tempera or dyed school glue into little squeeze bottles for them. 

The main job is to make the plaster of Paris skull models. My skull mold held about four cups of plaster, and took several hours to harden, so it took me a couple of days to make the seven skulls that I needed:

Fortunately, embellishing the skulls is a lot less work--and a lot more fun!

Because the paint is dimensional, it did also take a few hours to dry, so if you're doing this in a shared space with a group, bring a cardboard box or tray so everybody can transport their skull home to finish drying. I noted that in the instructions I wrote to go in our Mexico take-home kit, and included a plaster of Paris skull for each kid and a large set of dimensional paint for them to share.

If I had this project to do again, I'd embed twine or wire into the plaster of Paris to use as a hanger when it dries. For Syd's sugar skull, though, I think I'm going to sand the back flat and then glue it to a bookend. 

Crafting with Kids: Make Your Own Plaster of Paris Figurines

I originally published this tutorial on Crafting a Green World way back in 2010!

Summer is for kitschy children's crafts. Popsicle sticks, pom poms, the ubiquitous lanyard, plus a few thousand mosquito bites are all that's necessary for the perfect summer. 

Kids' crafts, however, can compete with the eco-friendly lifestyle that we try to teach them. They want foam stickers and plastic beads, and we want them to craft with twigs and pine cones! 

One of the ways to teach children to craft positively is to teach them the DIY mindset. Plaster of Paris is a kid-friendly material, made from powdered gypsum (just like the dunes at White Sands, New Mexico!) that you rehydrate and then dehydrate again in a mold, and those little plaster of Paris figurines that craft stores sell are cute and fun to paint. But what sweatshop were they imported from? Who knows? 

Here's how give your kids the fun of making your own plaster of Paris figurines, all with stuff that you already have around the house. 

You will need:

• Plaster of Paris. I bought mine half-used from a garage sale, but it's an inexpensive and easily found craft supply to find new or used.
• Measuring cups and stirrers. You can either use cups and bowls and spoons that you can rinse off with the hose outside (NOT down your drain!), or you can do what we do and give one final use to stuff that we're just about to throw away, anyway- souvenir non-recyclable plastic cups or decorative tins or toothbrushes or used-but-dry popsicle sticks, or paint stirrers.
• Kitchen or postal scale
• Household objects for molds. Silicon muffin molds work well for this, as do conventional metal muffin tins, as well as any plastic or metal container. Be creative!

 1. Using the kitchen scale, measure out your plaster and water in a 2:1 ratio. This means that you need to have twice the weight of plaster that you do water. If you measure out 12 ounces of plaster, for instance, then you'll need to weigh out 6 ounces of water. 

2. Combine the plaster and water into one bowl and stir well until they're combined and there are no lumps. 

3. Pour the plaster of Paris mixture into your molds, smoothing out the tops with a popsicle stick or the flat end of a knife. 

4. After at least 30 minutes, the plaster of Paris will be firm to the touch and can be unmolded and painted with acrylic paints.  

Plaster of Paris figurines make great paperweights, party crafts, and grandparent gifts. To make them extra crafty, you can embed found objects in the plaster before it's completely firm. May I suggest twigs and pine cones, perhaps?

College Tour 2022: Let's Agonize Over Admission Decisions While Touring This Small, Private Liberal Arts College

The kid has narrowed down her college choices to the following:

1. our state's large, flagship public university
2. a small, private liberal arts college
3. a private liberal arts historically women's college

The women's college is likely out of the running, barring the results of our financial aid appeal. I'm not sure how a college can define itself as "meeting the full documented need" of a student AND give them a Cost of Attendance number that is literally 51% of their family's not very significant take-home pay, but I guess that's why I'm not in charge of college marketing or finances.

Anyway, we're very familiar with the large, flagship public university, but we've never seen this small, liberal arts college in person before, so on the most beautiful day of April, the kid and I packed up the car with peanut butter, goldfish crackers, and Welcome to Night Vale podcasts, and drove 4.5 hours northeast to the middle of Ohio.

The school's nickname is The Hill, and I did not feel any particular curiosity about this nickname any of the times that I read it on any of the thousands of pamphlets and letters and marketing materials prior to our visit. At least I had the foresight to pack my good hiking boots, though, because The Hill is not a misnomer!

I nearly burned through our family's entire data plan for the month by sending a bitchy text and a photo of stairs to my partner every time I had to stop to catch my breath.

Okay, we're at the top! On this afternoon, the kid and I mostly wandered around campus and looked at the buildings--

--admired the landscaping and outdoor features--

--and noted all the elements of a small, liberal arts college vibe:

Later, she and I had separate mixers. The kid went off to do stuff with other admitted students, and I enjoyed an open bar, appetizers, live music from various student groups, and schmoozing with other parents and university staff. There was a mix of parents whose kids were still deciding between various schools and parents whose kids had confirmed their admission, which was really nice. All the parents were super willing to workshop each other's kid's options, hear everyone's pro/con lists, and basically just listen to anyone who needed to talk out one of the most agonizing decisions they've ever had to make.

Miscellaneous notes from this parent mixer:

1. There's a Mothman Museum in West Virginia, and now I really want to go there.
2. Talking about career aspirations, I mentioned that the career that probably most suited my kid's particular skill set and temperament was benign dictator of a small island nation. One guy said, "Oh, my in-laws just bought an island!", then he showed me photos. 
3. Another parent, having asked about my other kid's career aspirations and heard my pat answer for her of "sitting on my couch and playing Minecraft, probably," told me that there are literal college scholarships for e-sports and one college they'd recently toured was building an entire arena thing just for e-sport competitions. I immediately texted my partner to start researching esports, stat!
4. The school had these little plastic drink cups that they'd instead made dessert parfaits in, and omg I am still thinking about them.

The kid's mixer was still going by the time I, myself, was tapped out, so here's me in the dark, two glasses of red wine in my tum and a red velvet cheesecake parfait stolen from the parent mixer in my hand, nervously making my way back down those same fourteen thousand flights of stairs:

And then up another flight of stairs into our comfy, wee AirBnb!

Fun fact: this time last year, I had NEVER stayed in an AirBnb. But this adorable apartment over somebody's detached garage was my fourth AirBnb ever, and it continued my good luck of turning on the TV to find it already being logged into Netflix on someone else's account. Over the next couple of nights, the kid and I got super into a reality show about competitive cheerleading at the junior college level.

After climbing fourteen thousand flights of stairs back up The Hill the next day, I was BIG cranky that this was our breakfast:

I'd have climbed another fourteen flights of stairs just to get my hands on the leftovers from the previous night's parent mixer. OMG bacon-wrapped breadsticks, I miss you!

We had some speechifying, then an adorable performance by an on-campus a Capella group (I texted the younger kid mid-performance to tell her they were covering BILLIE EILISH!!!)--

--then we went to a series of panel discussions and seminars on various aspects of the student experience and the university.

The kid mocked me for taking photos of the Powerpoint slides when I wanted to remember something, but look! All the olds do it!

This school has one of the most beautiful campuses I've ever seen. The kid noted that it doesn't have any "wild" spots, like the creeks and pond and tiny woods that pepper our large, flagship public university, but this university does have a biological reserve at the edge of campus that we didn't visit, nor did we walk over to the hippie commune residence with its chickens, large garden, and composting toilets. Apparently upperclassmen can live there, and if the kid goes to this university I will not be surprised one day to learn that she wants to be one of them.

Our guided tour took us past the library, where I went inside to ask a librarian to assess the suitability of their browsing fiction collection for my avid reader:

He pointed out the display of New York Times bestsellers behind him, and said that they have a large fiction collection in their Humanities stacks. A catalog search told me, however, that the kid would be heavily relying on interlibrary loan for her pulp fantasy novels if she stuck solely with the university library, so I added investigating the local public library to my to-do list.

It's a family rule that we text the younger kid a photo of every cat we see:

As part of the day's agenda, we also checked out a standard dorm and dorm room (the kid was horrified and declared it "dismal," but I assured her that all freshman dorms everywhere look about the same. Please don't tell her about the bougie dorms at the fancy schools with price tags to match!), and ate lunch in one of the university cafeterias. The food was tasty, but dang, the meals plans are EXPENSIVE! They're charging kids $6.75 for breakfast, $7.75 for lunch, and $8.75 for dinner. Like, my pasta with alfredo sauce and roasted vegetables, roll, soda, and brownie were delicious, but I don't know that they were over seven bucks delicious, you know? I get that kids are basically eating in a restaurant three meals a day, but I guess I didn't think they'd literally be charged restaurant prices, sigh.

After our official business had ended for the day, the kid and I took some time to just exist on the campus, just to feel what it would feel like. This was made a lot easier by the absolutely marvelous day, and the existence of dozens of delightful adirondack chairs peppered invitingly around the lawns:

After finishing my book and people watching to my heart's content, including examining each passing student's face for signs of discontent--they all seemed happy enough!--the kid and I took ourselves on a walking tour of the town.

We found daffodils--

--the usual range of independent breweries we've come to expect from living in our own little college town--

--and aha! The library!

It's in walking distance from campus, and based on my online catalog search for "Tamora Pierce," would have enough pulp fantasy to keep the kid happy between study times.

Here's another cool thing about this town: if you get into your car and drive west into a super fancy housing development, you'll find this wonder of the world stuck back in the back of it:

And you can WALK on it!

It makes me sick to think of how many other equally wondrous mounds were absolutely plowed under to make other housing developments or strip malls or just fields of corn or whatever. Tangent, but I got my local public library to buy a book that collects info about all kinds of local Native American mounds that are hidden on private property in the backs of fields and in stands of forests, etc., all kinds of super sketchy places that you can sneak to, or rather look up on Google Earth, ahem. The author believes that the mounds are the burial sites of angel-human hybrids, but whatever.

My fitbit was SO proud of how many steps I'd climbed by the time I was back in our tiny AirBnb with disappointing take-out pizza, a hard cider, that weirdly enthralling cheerleading documentary (well, shit--I just looked up our favorite cheerleader from that show, the super inspiring underdog from humble beginnings working hard to make his dream come true, and... yeah, his official sentencing hasn't come up yet, but he should probably stay in prison), another library book, and my stolen red velvet cheesecake parfait:

I think the kid would be really happy here! The problem is, I also think she'd be really happy at the large, public flagship school or the historically women's college that we can't afford. And every time I think of a con for one of the schools, I accidentally match it with a pro almost immediately, and the opposite also holds true. 

The fact is that the kid is really coming down to the wire here: Decision Day nationally is May 1. I already can't think of anything else to research about these schools--seriously, yesterday I even looked up the geographical breakdown of each school's population, to see how many non-local kids the kid could potentially meet, and the variety of languages offered just in case the kid wants to branch out from French. Other than the women's college, the cost for each is under budget (or at least it will be if the stock market would stop tanking her 529, please and thank you!), and otherwise, they're so different that it's almost impossible to compare them.

You guys, I think we may have to get out the dartboard and the blindfold!

P.S. Want to follow along with my craft projects, books I'm reading, road trips to weird old cemeteries, looming mid-life crisis, and other various adventures on the daily? Find me on my Craft Knife Facebook page!