Hi! In case you were wondering about my status (I am just that important to you, I know), it is currently: Not Dead. That could change---though I don't plan for it to---but despite my neglect of Internet word-vomiting of late, I'm still alive. Let's see; I've been on a streak of truly awesome child-rearing choices for the last month or so. There was the whole "Hello, Mrs. YOURKIDSMOM, but we are legally obligated to notify you when..." phone call from school one day, letting me know that when even a child with a documented lack of brain-to-mouth filter says something that sets off the DANGER...
There are a couple of times I've written about volunteering at my kids' school (or schoolS, back when they weren't at the same one), and it nearly always evokes at least one indignant WELL THAT IS FINE AND WELL FOR YOU, MS. PRIVILEGE PANTS, BUT NOT EVERYONE CAN DO THAT response. Being me, I thought hey, people must be misunderstanding my point, perhaps I will devote an entire post to it to explain why it is important TO ME and is something that I think, actually, most people can do in some capacity if they really want to (maybe not as often as I do, but at least once). Well. Um. You would...
What you can read from me this morning over at Alpha Mom: Why and how I talk to my teens about the democratic process. What you will not find in the Alpha Mom post: The fact that my husband and I set out to our local polling place just as soon as the kids left for school, this morning, made our way through and voted with absolutely no issues, and then as we were exiting the building I walked just a leeetle too close to an open door and---while I was trying to give one of those cursory polite smiles to someone entering as we left---my purse strap snagged on the door handle and I nearly lost a...
Everyone made it out of the house on time and in costume, and everyone got extra credit. In addition, Monkey "won" for his class (which was apparently chock-full of Rosie the Riveters and not a lot else). While Chickadee's teacher admired her commitment to the pun, they apparently had a spot-on Andrew Jackson in her class, so no grand prize for her this year. I give you... the government shutdown, and the Great (grate! get it? GET IT??) Depression: (Adjusted for the Witness Protection Program, natch.) I do feel a little sad that I cannot show you Chickie's Emo-ized makeup because... it...
So my folks were here, briefly, and my father mentioned no fewer than three times that he was going to check my blog to see if I'd written. "Um, I don't really write much anymore," I said, as if he didn't already know that. "Yeah, but how will I know what's happening in your life?" he said. "It's terrible," added Otto, never one to shy away from ganging up on me with my dad. "I used to be able to check the blog before I came home to find out what I'd done that day or to know if I should be worried about something. Now I just have to GUESS." I waved them off. Whatever. A day later, Chickadee...
Today the southeastern United States are experiencing Some Weather, by which I mean that our weather radio has been going off all day long with WARNING WARNING WARNINGS of local tornadoes and "severe thunderstorms." I do appreciate the tornado warnings---we can't always hear the sirens out at our house---but I have less appreciation for the 4:00 am wake-up to let me know that it was raining. Uh. Thanks? However would I have known it was SEVERE WEATHER if the radio hadn't woken me up to tell me so? It doesn't appear to have an "Only make a lot of noise if I need to go hide in the closet"...
So, some of you know that about 8 months ago I took a new job. This turned into An Actual Grown Up Job Job (as opposed to Sure It's A Grown Up Freelance Job But Pants Are Still Optional Job), and that's the very abbreviated version of how yours truly, possibly the crankiest person to walk the planet, totally ended up drinking the Happier Kool-Aid. It's awesome. Less awesome: Happier is in Boston, and I live 1,000 miles away. Boston is great, but Georgia is where I keep all my stuff and my dogs and my family, so up until now I have spent a lot of time on Google Hangouts with my coworkers,...
There's a certain magical thing that happens as your children get older; at least, it's happening to me. In the very beginning, when they were tiny babies, I was sure I had no idea what I was doing. Over time, I gained confidence, and ever-so-steadily inched into a place where I felt like a competent parent. But then they turn into teenagers and once again I have no freaking clue how to do anything right when it comes to them. It's just that instead of a colicky baby I now have stressed-out humans who are larger than me. Neat! But if I actually DID know anything, I'd write about it all...
Life! Life, you so crazy. Or maybe you so normal and my coping skills are not. Hard to know. Maybe best not to dwell! Various and sundry, because I am still suffering from the illusion that anyone gives a damn: * School has been in session for about a month. Two excellent weeks at the beginning gave way to... reality. Reality kind of sucks. * Speaking of school, I promised to share the poster grades once they were in, and I didn't forget, this teacher is just a slow grader. Chickadee got a 100, Monkey got a 97. Both were pleased. (I may or may not have muttered "grade inflation" under my...
