My children are hoarders. I mean, not Prime Time Special, bring in the forklift kind of hoarders, but hoarders nonetheless. Every item that comes into the house is the most wondrous [insert category of object here], and every drawing is sacred, and every graded test a reminder of a more halcyon time. I have to remove outgrown clothing under cover of darkness or create an elaborate diversion during the day ("Hey, look! Is that a big sign that says FREE COOKIES?"), lest the wailing and gnashing of teeth commence. Otto is meticulous and organized, and while he has a vast quantity of STUFF,...
It's Friday, and that means I'm over at Five Full Plates today. If my neck wasn't so jacked up I might be talking about exercise or even bemoaning my current weight, but as it is I'm nearly immobile and so have resorted to telling you about what I put in my mouth this week. Insert your own jokes. You know you want to.
It's Friday, and that means I'm over at Five Full Plates with support and inspiration for this whole "getting fit" thing. Or maybe I'm just gnashing my teeth and rending my garments. Or maybe I'm still coming to terms with the reality that it may be time to pony up and buy a decent scale. Does anyone have a recommendation for a good scale that's not too pricey? Alternatively, does anyone have some chocolate they'd like to give me? I'm just trying to keep my arteries clear, people.
retribution -noun 1. a justly deserved penalty 2. the act of taking revenge 3. sudden recurrence of somnambulance the night after your wife writes a somewhat cranky post about you true love -noun 1. a sweetheart; a truly loving or loved person 2. bond uniting soul mates 3. not kicking your husband in the nads when he wakes you out of a sound sleep TWICE on the same night: first to insist that there's something in the room with you, then later to noisily inspect the far wall because "I know it sounds crazy, but there's a giant hole in it and there's something in there!" (Today's lesson...
[A guess of what my 11-year-old daughter's journal would surely look like, if she had one.] Friday, December 18th 2009 Dear Journal, I let Mom come to school with me this morning to carry my stuff. There was a lot of stuff AND it was raining and I got wet and I hate that. She was pretty much okay except when Ms. Science told her I was missing part of my project. Then I'm pretty sure she would've gone into full lecture mode if we hadn't run into the next teacher who needed cookies. Ugh!! We didn't do anything at school really. And tonight we're eating dinner in front of the TV and watching...
I'm a sucker for Christmas. Oh, I could tell you it's because I didn't come to Christianity until later in life or that it's because of faith and hope and such---and both of those things happen to be true---but the truest explanation is simply that it's shiny and pretty and the closest I come to GOODWILL TOWARDS (HU)MAN all year. It's festive. And twinkly. And shut up. So this weekend I was giddy, pulling out the Christmas decorations, setting lights just so, and even placing our faux mistletoe ball in the doorway by the bottom of the stairs. (Why no, I never do tire of a solid month of...
I'm hip-deep in preparations for our next IEP meeting, which I'm told should NOT include some of my brilliant ideas, such as screaming, "You people are inefficient, heartless asses" or suggesting that my child could, in fact, receive a better education in a cage full of premenstrual orangutans. (I only believe one of those statements, actually.) (But I'm not saying which one.) This time we're bringing the Big Guns, by which I mean that we have hired representation because it's become clear to us that that's the only way anything's going to get done. Sad, but true. And really, all of that...
It occurred to me this weekend that I have a complete double-standard about sharing stuff online. And not just for me---which would be fine, you know, setting standards for myself---but I find myself getting all Judgy McJudgerson about other people, which is quite frankly both exhausting and probably just bad karma. And yes, I know that everyone has their own boundaries. Everyone has to decide what they can live with, and what makes them comfortable, and if it makes ME uncomfortable, I am free to look away, and blah blah blah BLAH let's sing Kumbaya! I get that. I do. Nevertheless, I...
Everyone is healthy and hearty and life goes on. For a short and blissful while there, Chickadee was loving and cuddly and totally a Mama's Girl. Of course, I didn't know, in the beginning part of it, anyway, that it was largely due to the fact that she was miserable at school and had decided to hate everyone and everything... but we had some truly lovely moments while she viewed me as the best thing in her life. Now that I've twisted myself inside-out and upside-down and gone to bat for her at school and the bullying situation has been (at least temporarily) resolved, however, I am back to...
