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Worth it

I’ve been to hours of rehearsals and have missed hours of rehearsals. I’ve driven to rehearsal and wiped tears off my cheeks the whole way there because it was my only time alone to vent the frustration and sadness I was feeling over my oldest being sick and scared and beyond the fixing I used to be able to do with band-aids and boo-boo kisses.

I’ve laid awake at night while Otto gently snored next to me, my prayers for strength and patience and grace all tangled up with mental repetitions of my lines for the show—lines I could’ve easily learned in an afternoon back when I was in college, but which now eluded me or got twisted up on my tongue as my older, slower brain darted from one worry to the next. I stared at the ceiling in the dark and hoped I wouldn’t make a fool of myself; hoped I hadn’t made the wrong choice, staying with the show, even in the midst of everything else.

I apologized to my girl for leaving her so much, especially this last week. “I would’ve been mad at you if you dropped out,” she said, simply. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re doing it.” (more…)

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Actually, right now it’s delighted

So remember how I was all “Grrrrr, people make me mad and we need more girl power in the world!” and so I was going to go audition for The Vagina Monologues basically because my daughter asked me to? And then I didn’t say anything else about it and several of you emailed me and were all “Oh hey, whatever happened with that?” And I sort of did the email equivalent of “Hmmm, yeah, I dunno, OH LOOK, SOMETHING SHINY!” and didn’t really tell you?

I was waiting, see.

The audition itself was quite brief—surprisingly so, I thought—and I was left wondering if I was so awful they cut me off to save themselves or if I was so awesome that they decided to cast me on the spot and no further reading was necessary. (I have NO IDEA where my son gets that whole black/white assessment of the world from. Curious.) I went away and agonized for a few days, then later got a general “welcome to the cast, more info to follow” email.

More info arrived this evening. I read for the Angry Vagina monologue and that’s what I got! Apparently I am totally believable as cranky genitalia. I choose to take this as a compliment.

[Related: HOLY SHIT I haven’t acted in two decades and I thought a good way to reacquaint myself with the stage would be to get up in front of a bunch of people and bitch about tampons and pap smears?! Of course I did.]

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Just a busy Sunday

So my to-do list for today is about six miles long; I got up early (which I almost never do on Sunday, because sleeping late is easily in my top 5 favorite activities) and did some work and picked up the house a little and went out for groceries and was back before I’m usually even awake on the weekend.

The plan was to have a couple of families from Monkey’s new school come over to swim, so everyone could meet everyone else and the boys could play and—hopefully—Monkey would not refuse to get in the car when carpool time came.

So I baked some muffins (when in doubt: bake) and made some iced tea and threw some lemonade pouches in the fridge for the kids. I put on my swimsuit and slathered Monkey in sunblock and truthfully, I was nervous, and also thinking about all of the other things I needed to be doing, or would have to rush to do after our guests left. (more…)

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Hip hip, hippie-hoo-ray!

“I want to study chemistry,” he said. “Do you do that here?”

“Sure,” she said. “If you come here, you get to choose a lot of what you do. What do you like about chemistry?”

“I don’t really know, yet, I just think it would be neat.” He was playing with Legos in the middle of the floor, happily chatting, a far cry from his refusal to look at the new parapro the day before.

“Well, you can maybe choose that for some independent study, or when it’s time to do a group project you can pitch that to the other students and see if other people want to do it, too.” For the past half hour she had gamely jumped from topic to topic along with him, unperturbed by his non-sequitors and occasional lack of manners.

“I want to learn how to blow things up!” he said, sweeping his arms wide. As I barked his name and dropped my face into my hands, he laughed. “Just kidding!” he added. (more…)

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Lucky 13, in a milestone way

Monkey claims that 13 is his lucky number, in large part, because it’s mine. He still thinks I’m cool; he still wants to like what I like and do as I do.

You, on the other hand, suffer under no such delusions. If I say it’s black, you are all but legally obligated to say that it’s white. If I dance to a song, you roll your eyes and make a mental note of the song’s now inherent uncoolness. If I remind you to thank me for something, you deadpan, “Thank you so much, Mom, you’re are quite simply the very greatest,” and don’t even crack a smile until I start laughing.

But you also curl up with me on the couch to watch television; plunk yourself down in my lap as if you were still a preschooler instead of just a few inches shorter than I am; demand I join you in jazz hands or link arms and skip with you; and rest your head on my shoulder and catch your breath when you’re trying not to cry. Because I am yours and you are mine, and today you are a teenager, even though you’re still my baby. (more…)

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Special Guest Post: It’s Mir’s Dad!

You asked (over on Facebook) for the famous Mir’s Dad to come and write so, while my lovely bride (oh, hey – this is Otto tapping at you now) is off getting lovelier, he was ordered to hunt and peck his way through writer’s block (hard, when you’re an architect by trade and nature, to problem solve in your kid’s realm) and create the following missive.

So, some rules:

  • We love Mir’s dad. He’s awesome. You must agree to this before clicking through to his post.
  • No nasty comments or he’ll leave mean ones on your blog.
  • The chances of him registering “” are pretty slim, but you can ask.
  • He has kids already and, while he’s sure you’re a perfectly nice person, probably won’t adopt you. Sorry.

That’s it, click on through to read …

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Love makes its own schedule

Today is Christmas.

Oh, okay; TECHNICALLY today isn’t Christmas, but today is OUR Christmas, because the kids are leaving tomorrow. Which means that there is currently a big mess of wrapping paper in my family room.

My biggest concern with the whole timing thing was not, in fact, today, but last night. See, the elves bring new pajamas on Christmas Eve. And the kids had already been informed that there was no way that Santa could come early—he is far too busy in these last days before the holiday, after all—but that we would do our family gifts, and after they return we’ll see if Santa came and what he brought. But then there was the matter of the elves. Might the elves make a special early trip?

I just wasn’t sure how to handle it. Fortunately, the weather made it easy. (more…)

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Love is a long time comin’

Today I am running around, trying to do at least twelve things at once. There’s work to be done and errands to attend to and the dog wants to play (which, YAY, but also, kind of busy here, pup!) and despite their “help” I had to really clean the kids’ bathroom, today, just to preserve my own sanity.

This afternoon my mother-in-law and her sister (Otto’s aunt and godmother) are arriving for their first visit to our home in Georgia. For those of you who are new, or maybe just to refresh your memory, Otto’s mom was sick and unable to travel for far too long. After a prolonged and scary medical drama, last year she received a liver and kidney transplant, and now she’s on a plane, headed here.

It’s kind of a big deal. A huge deal, really.

Otto’s mom has never seen him in his home, with his family, doing all of the things that he normally does. And even though I wished for this day years ago, it’s hard to believe it’s finally arrived. She can spoil her grandkids. She can see her oldest child in his element. She can see the man I see.

Today is a very good day.

Happy Love Thursday, everyone.

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It says so, right here

There are crumbs on the table and dust bunnies on the floor and there’s something sticky on the back corner of that one shelf in the fridge that I’m afraid to investigate.

I’m tired and I’m getting a cold and my desk is a mess and the laundry’s piling up and it’s rainy and disgusting outside.

I am profoundly grateful for all of it. This life, my life, is sweeter and more blessed than I deserve. Every year I dread my birthday—vestiges of ghosts long since past—and every year it arrives and I look around and realize, “Life is good and I am lucky.”

Because it is, and I am. Even if this IS the last birthday I’m planning to have. Ahem. (39 is the new black, or something, right? Right.)

And if for some reason I didn’t realize my good fortune, magical forces are hard at work to remind me. (more…)

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Two cool things

Today I have almost nothing for you; I am busy continuing Operation Kill Fleas Immediately If Not Sooner, and that involves a lot of vacuuming and laundry and also bathing a dog who is really not all that jazzed about finding herself in the sink. AGAIN.

Also I am trying to spend some quality time with my children, which would be a lot easier if they would stop doing things like shoving garbage in their closets and then swearing that they’d cleaned their rooms (and then getting all offended when their jerkery is discovered). AHEM. (Jerkery is SO a word, by the way.) Anyway.

Two very cool things happened to me lately, though: (more…)

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