It pays to Discover (again)
Otto and I were having some quality time on the couch last night, by which I mean that we were each sitting there on our respective laptops while half web-surfing and half watching the news because WOW, the news last night, yeesh. Typical Friday night, in other words. (Uh, except for the fugitive in a boat part. That was not typical, just the part where we were on the couch. Obviously.)
ANYWAY.
I don’t remember when I was doing online. Probably I was on Facebook; more specifically, probably I was on Facebook playing Scrabble. (According to Monkey, that’s all I ever do, you know.) But Otto, he was on a mission.
See, years of my influence have corrupted Otto, and the man who used to be able to say, “I want/need Item X, therefore I will go buy Item X,” and then simply make a purchase, can no longer do that. No, thanks to me, now half the time he agonizes over whether or not he REALLY needs Item X, and then even if he decides he DOES, he then comparison shops for it online for hours or days or weeks before purchase. I AM SO PROUD. Anyway, that’s what Otto was doing. He was shopping for… something. read more…
Fifteen affirmations
I sent you daily affirmations for a while, while you were too far away and dealing with too much, and it was the best way I knew to keep beating out “I love you, I love you” on my heart drum so that you could hear it. You complained, once home again, that I’d stopped doing it. I guess the daily stuff fades into the background, not quite as loud, easy to ignore and easier still to forget where it comes from and what it means.
Part of me is grateful for the forgetting. Last year on your birthday all I wanted was for us to forget, all of us. Especially you, my delicate, emotional sponge. You soaked up everything, got wrung out, soaked up more, and you frayed at the edges a little more each time. As hard as it is to watch, I know it’s harder to live.
Today’s affirmation (1): On your 15th birthday, you are still here, and you are stronger than you knew. read more…
A couple of elsewheres
Back before it became clear that we were all supposed to spend this week pondering the fragility of life and/or the enigma that is the human brain (with its capacity for both great evil and kindness), I wrote some other stuff. I’ll grant you that it doesn’t seem quite so important right now, but it’s what I’ve got. (Other things I’ve got: a sick kid, an almost-birthday-kid whose only request is a flourless chocolate cake, no groceries or ingredients for said cake unless I get off my ass and out of my pajamas, seven OMGSOITCHY fire ant bites, and several real-life pseudo-crises I wasn’t planning on having this week which are demanding my attention. Considering the options, a couple of other posts seemed like the nicest thing I could give you.)
So!
Did you know that Friday is the 2013 Day of Silence? Your favorite teen may clam up for the day, and on BlogHer I’m telling you why.
Although I don’t expect it to strike quite as many chords as my first post (you people have strong opinions about marching band!), this week on Alpha Mom I’m suggesting low-tech solutions for teens managing anxiety. (Psssst! They work for adults, too.)
How I make it all even out
Ah, glorious springtime! The birds are chirping! The lizards are leaping! The pollen is… pollening. Yes.
Like any other red-blooded American family, this time of year means that we are committed to cleaning and repairing various facets of our dwelling, because everyone knows that warmer weather + tax return = copious swearing from someone on a ladder. That’s just how it works.
I feel like every time we set out to do “a little project” it turns into our own special brand of “there’s a hole in the bucket.” (Why yes, I’ve noted this before, because it’s been happening for years.) This has a three-pronged effect of making me insane, because 1) the MONEY part of it makes me panicked and neurotic no matter how much mental preparation I’ve done and even if all the necessary money was set aside beforehand, 2) the TIME aspect just adds to the fun as I become convinced that life will never be normal again, and 3) the MESS is just the final, OCD cherry on the losing-my-marbles sundae.
Perhaps Otto and I need to have our own home improvement show. He can be all calm and capable and get stuff done while I run around pointing at holes in the wall and crying. read more…
All she wanted was a romp in the pond
Is this really necessary??
I am so peeing in your bed as soon as I get out of here.
Not kidding. NOT SORRY.
New things, old things
New thing: Hey, uh, lollipops and unicorns to everyone who welcomed my debut on Alpha Mom so warmly yesterday. I was hoping for a modest showing and apparently there are a lot more marching band devotees out there than I realized. (As in, the word “viral” was used and I had a giddy moment of amazement.) It was a lovely, lovely way to start off a new gig, although I am kind of having palpitations over what I can write about next week that won’t seem like a letdown, in comparison. Maybe I’ll have to attend the Incendiary School Of Post Writing so favored by a number of outlets and follow up the whole “Yay, marching band” post with something along the lines of “I let my teens smoke dope at the kitchen table, where I can supervise their tweaking” just to spark some conversation.
(Kidding, of course! I loathe smoking. I told them they would have to stick to heroin, but you know how Chickie feels about needles, so I dunno. We’re at an impasse.)
Old thing: Years of gardening and I am totally an old hand at the basics, now. Yep. I mean, I saw that some fire ants had invaded one of my boxes, and cool as a cucumber, I was out there with the diatomaceous earth to take care of them. I was not so cool or cucumber-like when I stepped too close and ended up with a Croc (shut up, I only wear them to garden) full of bitey ants. And yes, this happens to me at least once a season. Um. Yay for getting it out of the way early, this year? Also: OUCH. read more…
Mama’s got a brand new gig
First of all: thank you for all of the suggestions, yesterday. I spent an inordinate amount of time looking at the various alarm clocks you recommended, and giggling about things like squirting my child with water like a bad kitty and/or covering her in dog treats to get Licorice to do wake-up duty. For now, we’re trying three separate alarms (her idea, and it did get her up this morning), and I also went ahead and ordered an old-fashioned hammer-on-the-bells clock to try as it was the cheapest solution and I am hoping I won’t have to go all the way to an expensive bed-shaking clock.
And now the exciting thing: I am thrilled to announce that I’ve joined the team over at Alpha Mom! My first piece is up, and it’s all about the magic that is marching band. I’ll be writing weekly about various topics related to raising teenagers who are not, shall we say, standard issue. (Ahem.) Please read, bookmark, comment (you’re my favorite!), and absolutely let me know if you have ideas for topics you’d love to see covered.
Various wondrous things
Okay, “wondrous” might be overselling it a bit. There are varying degrees of wondrous. Like, there’s a whole spectrum of interesting that spans all the way from “truly wondrous” on down to “WTFness.” And I will leave it to you to place the following along that continuum as needed.
[Sidebar: Let us pause for a moment to acknowledge that anything you hear from me today or for the next several weeks will be completely allergy-addled. I woke up this morning and had to chisel my face open. For a few minutes I thought maybe I had pinkeye, but no, it’s just regular ol’ allergies. I guess. Everything and everyone I love is currently coated in a thin layer of yellow grit, and my eyes—long my favorite facial feature—are buried somewhere behind the crusty, puffy skin that has conveniently swollen to twice its normal eyebag size all the way to HOLY HELL WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR FACE. The pollen is taking over the woooooorlllld! And I am very cranky about it.]
Anyway. Wondrous. Wondrous! Yes, the miracles of ordinary life keep bowling me over. Allow me to knock you down with them as well. Don’t worry, there’s a nice soft pollen-drift right behind you to cushion your fall. read more…
Beauty tip
Yesterday was a full day; the sun was shining, we had a lot of going and doing and seeing people and enjoying the outdoors and whatnot. Eventually I went out with a friend for a girls’ dinner, then came home and Otto left to go watch basketball with some friends. (Tag-team parenting is my favorite.) I hung out with both kids, then Monkey went to bed and Chickadee and I watched some TV together and then she went to bed. I puttered around for a bit and then went to get ready for bed, myself.
The older you get, the longer your nighttime routine becomes. Right, ladies? I used to brush my teeth and then hop into bed. Now I also have to wash my face and smear gunk around my eyes and moisturize and peer at my various freckles and bumps. A few years ago I started developing these weird freckle-things every so often: they’re red (!) and raised and—sadly—permanent, though pretty small, and I haaate them. A chat with my doctor basically yielded a diagnosis of “yep, getting old sucks” and that was that.
So last night I was removing my shirt and realized I had YET ANOTHER new freaky freckle over one of my ribs, only upon closer inspection I ascertained that my new freckle had legs. Should this ever happen to you, I recommend screaming loudly, tearing through your drawer for the tweezers, swift removal/flushing of the offender, and then a full-body check conducted while still dancing the squirmy Dance Of Ick.
You’re welcome.
[Updated to add: Found a second one just now, in a location which I shall not name. Be right back, gotta go take an acid bath and burn my house down.]
Gardening for carnivores
So hey, since moving down here to the south I’ve become a passable vegetable gardener. (I don’t know if it’s so much due to the move as that the longer growing season is a lot more forgiving, and also I have a fenced area here to keep the deer from eating everything we grow.) Each year around Easter I trot out the wheelbarrow and various tools and dig the weeds out of my boxes and start planning what we’ll plant this year.
I’d love to tell you each year has layered precious knowledge on top of what came before, and now—five years into my clueless time of gardening-with-Google—I’m an expert. But… mostly I am a person who 1) likes vegetables, 2) knows how to read, and 3) has sort of learned a little from past mistakes. To wit: After multiple years of trying to grow snap peas in the middle of the summer, I actually bothered to read up on them and now know that they don’t do well in heat. Whoops! So this year I planted some early, and theoretically they should be ready for harvest before we’re into endless weeks of 95+ temps.
Also, I’ve learned that tomatoes are pretty easy to grow as long as you don’t have to battle tomato horn worms. So the garden is always pretty tomato-heavy. We all like tomatoes and tomato sauce, so that works. read more…