Sometimes I sit down to write something and I feel like such a colossal douche I consider just skipping the blog entry and ridiculing myself internally, instead. But then I realize that's no fun at all, and I share it all with you. YOU ARE WELCOME. Here at Casa Mir I am fraught with THE BUSY, because time is running out, school vacation and The Big Trek North are almost upon us, and there are a million things I have not done, cannot do, must accomplish, blah blah blahbbity blahhhhhh and all of it is unimportant, I mean mostly, and yet it's eating up my head space. I'm forever exhorting my...
Monkey went to a birthday party this weekend. Now, on the one hand: Monkey went to a birthday party this weekend. In fact, Monkey has received no less than four birthday party invitations since beginning his time at Hippie School, and if you're a longtime reader I probably don't have to spell this out (but I will, anyway, because saying it out loud makes me marvel all over again), but four birthday party invitations is... oh... roughly FOUR MORE than he received in the previous couple of years combined. Hippie School is terribly tolerant and inclusive, and I love and cherish that so much,...
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...
You get one day to stay home from school when you tell me you don't feel well, even if you don't necessarily have a fever. I'm willing to suspend disbelief for one day. When you refuse to go to school on the second day, I will inform you that in the absence of fever or vomiting a second day home must indicate pernicious, invisible illness which needs to be diagnosed RIGHT AWAY, and therefore I will be scheduling a visit to the doctor. What I may have forgotten to mention until shortly before said appointment is that there are now two options: Either the doctor agrees that you are quite...
I've been waiting and waiting and waiting to give you an update on the incident at school because I just knew that the triumphant day would come when the parents of the boy involved would either call or show up on our doorstep to talk to us. Because if my child did what this kid did---or anything even remotely like it---the first thing I would do would be to rain down a fiery wrath unlike any seen before in our house, and the second thing would be to march said child over to the house of the family that was affected by my child's unspeakable behavior so that apologies could be issued. And...
Last night was an extremely auspicious occasion. For the first time EVER, Otto and I went out for the evening and left the kids to make their own dinner, finish their homework, and put themselves to bed. ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. (Not that we've ever done it on a weekend, either, come to think of it. But doing this on a school night seemed particularly weird, somehow.) The fact of the matter is that they're plenty old enough, I am just overprotective and also once Chickadee almost burned the house down with a lamp (reading after hours! my little nerdling!) (the house wasn't really almost burned...
Okay, tomorrow I swear we shall return to things less death-and-despair themed. Probably. Not that I'm ever going to be Little Susie Sunshine, but I'm starting to depress myself. That did not, however, stop me from ruminating a bit on murder (oh goodie, more death!) today over at Off Our Chests. Sorry. Tomorrow: Kittens! Bunnies! Rainbows! And possibly Licorice's new doggie door, and the hilarity therein.
The GOOD news is that I found a deal on a huge sack of Sour Patch Kids (mmmmm... Sour Patch Kids) and it took less convincing than I thought it might to talk the kids into us all staying in last night. I know that probably makes me some sort of Halloween Scrooge, but whatever. I gave them each their own bowl of candy and everyone seemed happy and it just seemed easier. The BAD news is that the dog really and truly hates us, now. Or at least she did until I gave her some peanut butter this morning. Which I guess cancels out the hate. But I'm putting some pics below the fold so that you can...
I often marvel at the clear evidence of fate and genetics bringing me back what I dish out to the universe by way of my children not-so-subtly throwing some of the same in my face. Karma has a twisted sense of humor, it turns out. Today over at Off Our Chests, I'm thinking about my most fearful little apple, and what tending to him has done for this mama tree. It's a good thing, I hope, though we both have a long way to go. Courage is easier to come by when it's for your kid, I find. I hope you'll come over and add to the conversation.
