Thursday, August 16, 2012
My self esteem is for sale at the best little lemonade stand in the entire universe.
Among the attic nooks and double staircases, one of the things we have grown to (unexpectedly) LOVE about our house is it's location, and the sheer amount of traffic (translation: DOLLARS) it attracts to our lemonade stand. On Day #1, we learned that a pitcher of lemonade and a box of Sam's Club's finest cookies will earn upward of $40; and this was certainly enough money to spoil my children, to rot their teeth out on candy from the Sugar Shack, and to fill my home with the treasures of the $1 bin at Target. No thankey.
On that first day, each child that participated was given $1 to spend at the Sugar Shack, and collectively, they decided to donate all the rest of the proceeds to the construction of the new "play space" at their elementary school. Yes, "play space" is the new, p.c. way to say playground--and if we keep inventing new words for things, I'm not gonna understand English in about four years.
Since the start of the summer, the kids have faithfully held a lemonade stand about once a week; we'd pick up a couple of boxes of cookies, haul the toy cash register out to the curb, and let the kids work the corner in their bathing suits (um...). And while pimpin' aint easy, it's been a profitable venture, and one they have LOVED every minute of. It was a consistent way for my kids to get to know the neighborhood, and it was something that NO ONE ever complained about, or wanted to take money away from. To say that they have claimed a HUGE amount of ownership over this little endeavor, their school and their new "play space" is an understatement.
In a lot of ways, this school doesn't even feel like ours yet. We started eight weeks before the end of the school year, at a time when the building was undergoing a HUGE amount of construction. The momentum for "Project Idea" (the play space concept) had begun years ago, and in all reality, it just sort of seemed like something we missed the boat on. And being that we are the new kids, there were no "Art Fests" or baby-quilts-made-out-of-the-children's-artwork to make teachers weep, and subsequently, solidify my status as "Baddest Mo-Fo to ever grace the PTO". I have been a woman without a school-sponsored art project, , and often I don't feel connected to something unless I can schelack it in Mod Podge--but as I said in my last post, sometimes belonging is a matter of choice and initiative. Which, fortunately for you, translates into the best (freaking) lemonade stand and bake sale in the universe. EVER.
Complete with homemade treats by five different neighborhood families.
And fabric buntings.
And balloon bunches.
And whimsical chalkboards.
And (probably) some tissue paper pom-poms.
We are gonna theme this mutha out. And I am asking you to donate $.50 toward our school's "play space" AND my new school self esteem. I'm not gonna lie, we need this--because if I can't boost my self-esteem with a top-selling school auction item, I will certainly take GREAT satisfaction in applying a direct monetary value to my efforts. As long as that monetary value is greater than $2.
So. St. Louis friends. Please stop by between 4-6 p.m. tomorrow and watch me WORK IT. And by work it, I mean sip wine from my porch while I yell at my kids NOT to touch the baked goods after licking their fingers.
And if we are blog friends, but you don't know where I live, and want to witness a woman *possibly* unravel over the way cupcake icing reacts to humidity--then leave your email address in a comment, and I will give you my address. It just feels a little creepy to put my address out there on the Internet--WAY creepier, by the way, than that time I posed for a portrait in a motel room with six of my college sorority friends.