I currently have this book sitting on my desk for review, and I hope the authors don't mind me borrowing from their title. (The book is great; it gives kids on the spectrum practice with identifying emotions via facial expression. I can only assume that the correlating adult book would feature such directives as "point to socially acceptable" and "point to pretty," instead, but I prefer this version.) My folks headed back home, yesterday. In the middle of the afternoon I got a helpful automated phone call from their airline, letting me know that their flight had been canceled. As they were...
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 "mirsdad.com" are pretty slim, but you can...
1) This morning I went to yoga and then spent several hours making granola with a friend. Call me a hippie but that is a DAMN fine way to spend a Friday, on all fronts. 2) Monkey had a good day at school, and happily informed me that his team did NOT win the Battle of the Books, but they were runners-up and the team who won really deserved it. Yay for good sportsmanship! 3) Chickadee and a friend were picked up from school and deposited at the State Science Fair by Otto, who then texted me: "Nerdlings delivered and safely locked in the nerd pod." I am never deleting that off of my phone; you...
With everything else that's been going on, I forgot to tell you the MOST EXCITING NEWS EVER about my new eye doctor. I know, you thought today was going to be a boring old Monday and here I am with this SCINTILLATING story. Because everyone knows that eye doctor visits are the stuff legends are made of! Yes!! Okay, maybe not. But I did go to a new eye doctor. I hadn't been in over three years, if you don't count my last few sorry attempts to wear contact lenses. I figured I'd learned my lesson that score, anyway; I just wanted to get an updated prescription and some new glasses. I picked a...
I have trust issues. (Okay, let's be clear: I have LOTS of issues, all over the place. Not saying my only issues are with trust. But if I get into the rest of it, we'll be here all day. Possibly all week.) Anyway. I realized while writing yesterday's post that I still have trust issues; it's complicated, of course, but I am very quick to lash out if I feel someone has kicked me while I'm down. Although I meant yesterday's words in a general way, I regret writing them as a reaction (okay, an overreaction). But then, lately I have a lot of regrets about a lot of things. Today I have a post...
I spent my entire weekend alone, and I cannot tell you the last time I did that. Such an auspicious occasion seems like it deserves exotic plans and special activities, but the reality is that I pretty much 1) unplugged (even though I had a ton of work to do) and 2) did a lot of nothing, albeit much of that nothing involved GOING OUTSIDE, which is something I am not generally good at while on a schedule. Otto is away at this little conference you may possibly have heard of before. The day after he left, Chickadee left on the Big Band Trip (and OH THE DRAMA leading up to that one, hooboy, I...
So I went to this thing. (Truly, I am a master storyteller, no? Silver-tongued and imbued with the wisdom of the ages!) It was a meet-n-greet for elementary school parents get to chat a bit with our local middle school's staff, and I went. I felt a little bit like a spy, because of course I already know the principal and the staff; my daughter's been at this school for nearly two years, already. And normally I'm the last person to attend any meeting that isn't compulsory, but it occurred to me that when they had this when Chickadee was in 5th grade, I sent Otto for some reason (I can't...
I'm over at Off Our Chests again today, and this time I'm talking about my glasses, as us four-eyed types sometimes do. Maybe you'd like to come over and check it out? (P.S. After you read it, maybe you'd like to revisit the eyeball wrangler days, back when I thought Chickadee would never be able to manage her own contacts. It did take a couple of months, but it's all a distant memory, now. None of that was relevant to the story I wanted to tell over at OOC, but it still makes me laugh.)
One of the things that my daughter's impending teenagerhood has brought into sharp focus for me is my frustration with finding the balance between society's messages about what it means to be female, my own experiences growing up, and the ever-looming fear that somehow there's a "right" way to foster good self-esteem that I might be missing. We have entered the days of "I need to look a certain way" and "Those are the Pretty People" and "It doesn't matter to me except that it does." Tricky waters, this. Does anyone get out unscathed? I feel ill-equipped to aid in navigation, particularly as...
