Despite a small segment of my readers' seeming beliefs to the contrary, I don't actually write about EVERYTHING. I write about LOTS of things, and I write about some stuff that I'm sure some people wish I wouldn't, but this is but a small, self-selected slice of my life, and there are a million and one reasons to be selective about what I put out here. Figuring prominently in that laundry list of constraints are my readers who are known to me, such as my family and friends, and my desire not to vex them any more than is strictly necessary. Also on that list is the fact that my ex is reading...
We have a new family tradition of pancakes on Saturday mornings. The kids like this because they love pancakes, and I like this because Otto is in charge of making them, which generally means he not only makes the pancakes, but empties the dishwasher and does all the dishes, as well. (After four and a half years of being a single mom, that right there is as close to a wet dream as I'll ever get.) So this morning started out typically enough: Monkey arose before everyone else, came down to our room and hopped into bed for a quick snuggle. I hugged and kissed him and suggested he go watch...
I am beginning to think that I am just not very lucky when it comes to finances. Oh, I don't mean that it requires luck to manage your money. I'm all about personal responsibility when it comes to one's finances and such. I'm fastidious about such things, to the point where I should probably be medicated or at least someone should assist me in yanking this enormous stick out of my butt. But in terms of general money karma, if you will, I think there is a measure of luck involved. I have a friend who faces an unexpected home repair WITHOUT FAIL any time she comes into a bit of extra money....
Oh, my. My my my. Thank you to everyone who rushed to stroke my hair and tell me I'm a GOOD AND KIND AND VERY USEFUL ENGINE. You are sweet and silly because of course I wasn't saying that I suck in every possible way, I was just venting on having done something I regretted, and then life goes on. Of course, those of you who took this opportunity to lecture me on what I should say or do remind me that yes, one DOES need to be careful about what they blog, because there is always someone out there who 1) assumes they know you inside and out from just a peek into your life and 2) therefore...
(Not to be confused with this rockin' mama over here, you understand, but I believe there's enough asshole to go around.) Recently those of us participating in BlogHerAds were asked to state for the record whether or not we could commit to profanity-free writing as---go figure---some advertisers would rather not spend their dollars on pottymouths. Although I didn't have to think twice about checking the "I do hereby solemnly swear to use my genteel language and only fart butterflies" box over on Want Not, after some thought I decided that I wasn't comfortable making that pledge here. Because...
The good news: For my birthday, Otto's brother Wild Thing drove their mom's car down here all the way from Boston. The reason? She's giving it to us. It is old and battered but runs fine and---most importantly---the air conditioning runs ice cold. I am thrilled to have a set of wheels again. The bad news: Otto and Wild Thing headed out this morning and I waved them off, saying that the kids and I would swim a while and then go run errands. Because TWO WHOLE CARS THAT WORK---that means we can do different things at different times! Except that I just realized I don't actually have the keys to...
Today is a particularly good Friday. The children have nearly made it through their first week of school, and to celebrate that we decided they could ride the bus home this afternoon. This has less to do with any reward logic (because, let's face it, they'd much rather be picked up and we're all a bit worried about what happens on the bus) and more to do with things like since it's the end of the week, if the experience scars them horribly I have all weekend to help them get over it; plus yesterday the crossing guard lady yelled at me in the pick-up line and I realized that if I continue...
The first day of school was---if not a success---acceptable. Our school has what is supposed to be an orderly procedure for distributing children at the end of the day; there's a web of driveway and parking lot areas that IN THEORY make for an optimal traffic pattern. The buses go in HERE and the people who are parking (why are you parking, people??) go in HERE and if you're picking up, you pull in over THERE and someone comes to ask you which child you'd like to kidnap and eat for dinner and then they radio back to the holding pen and someone brings your victim out. It's a great system. Or,...
Hey, do you know how people warned me that it is, you know, HOT down here in Georgia? Do y'all (see how native I am, now?) remember how when I said I was moving here, all of my southern readers rushed to regale me with tales of summer? And do you know how I've been all, "Hey, this is really not too bad at all, and also I am loving our POOL" for the month we've been down here? August arrived, and right on cue, Georgia turned into the surface of the sun. And even then, I kept saying, "You know, it really isn't as humid as I thought it would be! This is okay!" I was TRYING. But now there is no...
