Back in the days of OH I COULD NEVER EVER HOMESCHOOL (haaaaaaaa!), my aversion to this idea was multi-pronged. Basically I was convinced that: A) I am not patient enough to be my child's main teacher. B) Curriculum planning is probably hell on earth. C) Spending all day, every day, with my child would strain our relationship. D) Working and homeschooling are incompatible, even though I work from home. E) There is not enough Excedrin in the world for this. Spoiler: I was wrong. I mean, Excedrin comes in really, really big bottles (especially at Costco!), plus there are ways to deal with all...
Some of the drama du jour 'round here has me thinking about what it means to be in the right, and how the older I get, the less important it feels to me. The kids, though, man alive. When they're right they're RIIIIIIGHT, and woe betide the person who tries to interfere with their convictions with pesky things like a differing opinion. We're working on it, and while we do, I started working on a piece for Alpha Mom, and then cracked myself up by titling it The Unbearable Rightness of Being. Get it? Get it?? It's okay if you don't agree that I'm funny, because I know that I don't always have...
It's always fun to have to fulfill a work assignment dealing with parenting tips during a time period when I've become completely convinced that the only parenting tip I'm qualified to offer anyone is, "Don't have children." That's my FAVORITE! (As my kids would say: hey, it's Opposite Day!) So when I was thinking about my topic for Alpha Mom this week, I ended up feeling confident about... well, the fact that my kids are clean. Yes. I'm 15.5 years into this parenting thing and that's the kindest parenting-related congrats I can offer myself right now. There's plenty of other awesome things...
A few years ago, Otto and I went through the process of writing our wills and advanced directives (I almost wrote "prime directive" there, which I suppose my little Trekkie would've appreciated, but that's not the same thing), by which I mean we gave a lawyer a lot of money and he gave us a lot of paperwork. This was the adult and proper thing to do, but the impetus was not quite as mature as it maybe should've been. Most people think, "You know, I just want to make sure I have all my ducks in a row in case of unexpected tragedy or whatever." And then they go write their wills, like...
Every now and then I do something where I catch myself and go, "... did I really just do that?" It's usually because I can't decide if I'm amazing or disgusting. (In my defense, there's sometimes a really thin line between these states. Also, I'm not very bright.) Before the Internet, I had to just wonder in silence, or call a friend. But now I have all of YOU! Ready to tell me the TRUTH, and scold me if necessary. So naturally just now I did this thing and was all, "Oh yes, I must tell the world about it immediately so that I can find out how to properly judge my own actions." Woooooo! So...
Last night at dinner, the following conversation occurred. Otto: How was your day at school? Chickadee: Terrible. Otto: Really? Chickadee: No. Just messing with you. Otto: And how was YOUR day at school? Monkey: It was good. How was YOUR day at school? Otto: It went well. Thank you. *here there was a pause, as everyone turned to look at me* Otto: Do you feel left out? Me: A little! Of course, Monkey's "day at school" yesterday was on the computer, but today, EVERYONE WENT TO SCHOOL. I've been alone all day and it's rather glorious. (I'm hoping the new co-op goes well for Monkey, as I'll be...
As an added bonus to my usual case of return-from-flying-the-friendly-skies-in-a-giant-germ-filled-metal-tube plague, both kids appear to have... something... as well. As in, they were sick before I got home, so I didn't give it to them. No one is deathly ill, we're all just ill-ish (is that a thing? I feel like if I were cooler, ill-ish would actually be a compliment, no?) and grumpy and SUPER FUN TO BE AROUND. Also, shut up and stop looking at me. Needless to say, this has made that whole getting-back-into-the-swing-of-things endeavor even more painful than anticipated. Because what now?...
I found myself babbling to the cashier at the grocery store today---not that this is unusual, really---about how you spend the early years of a kid's life exhorting them to please, pleeeeeeease, EAT SOMETHING, and then they become teenagers and as you're having your weekly heart attack in the checkout line, you wish they would eat just a little less. Today was worse, though, because we're gearing up for a camping trip, so in addition to the usual cartload of stuff, I also had an obscene number of bags of chips and boxes of ice cream treats. What? It's CAMPING. Calories don't count while...
The accusation that bloggers tend to give only the happy, shiny bits of their lives---or, conversely, only the tragedies---is a valid criticism. It's easy to be all YAY FLOWERS AND SUNSHINE and equally easy to be all BOO WAH DRAMA DESPAIR. As for me, I feel like I'm... well, sort of like that in real life? Clearly my black-and-white, all-good-or-all-bad apples didn't fall all that far from the emotional dysregulation tree, is all I'm saying. Also, stop looking at me like that. I try to strike a balance, both online and off. I know that shades of gray are (generally speaking) more "true" than...
