Learning to fly


An airplane was flying overhead and I said to Lil’ Sport, “I wonder if they can see us in the pool.”  She pointed out that we weren’t in the pool, we were on the patio playing cards, under a canopy, so no they probably couldn’t.  “All right, all right but what if they could?  Wouldn’t that be cool?”

“I guess”, she said.

I remember the last time I was on a plane looking down at the patchwork of fields wondering about the lives of the people I couldn’t see but knew were down there.  Are they happy? Is someone suffering?  Is this a special day for someone?  Do they know I’m up here?

As a child Chrysanthemum always wanted the ability to fly.  I wonder if she could fly, where would she go?  What would she see?

If it were me I would want another super power to got with it; to shrink – the fly on the wall theory in action.  But do I really want to hear/see the insides of people’s lives?  Not the people I know.  But it would be interesting to float into the lives of strangers.  Not to pry but to understand how and why they do the things they do.  To answer the question, “What were they thinking?”

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The best idea I’ve ever had

Do you ever have a brilliant idea and want to run around outside with your hands in the air shouting to the world about it?  I did.  Last year.

Then I forgot about it.

Until last night.

I’m so excited I remembered!


The kids are not… Although…

shhh… don’t tell the other kids…

Lil’ Sport said…

You know, there’s something satisfying about getting to take out one of the jobs cards and moving it into the “Done” pocket.

I rest my case.  Mom’s do know best!


P.S.  Here’s what you need to know to make one of these yourself:

  • I used poster board
  • The pockets are just transparencies cut down to shape and glued with Elmer’s Glue (but make sure you glue the textured side, not the smooth side)
  • I used Sharpies for the writing
  • Kids around the world will be thanking me.

P.P.S .  Remember The Dentist saga?  Well, today was the day and I survived.  Although the decided to put me “under” this time.  Yeah!

The Million Dollar Question


Next week the million dollar question will finally get answered.  The question we have all been asking ourselves over and over.  The question we are convinced we know the answer to.  The question that starts many arguments, heated debates, and stirs the pot day after day, week after week.

Maybe you know this question.   Maybe you’ve asked yourself this very same question too.  It’s the question we have ALL asked ourselves at some point.  The question in question?

Is it me or is it them?

It started about a year ago.  I found myself asking the people around me to speak up, to please e.n.u.n.c.i.a.t.e, to speak clearly.  About a year ago the phrase, “I can’t hear you”, became a permanent part of my repertoire.

The problem is I have kids.  Teenagers to be exact.

And so, when it’s the kids my mind starts whirring, attaching stories and meanings to “their” inability to speak up, speak clearly, and communicate.

(What, you didn’t know poor communication is a hot button for me?  It is.  Just to be clear.)

It goes something like this…

Kid:  “Blah blah blah blah blah

Me:  “What?”
(Inside my head: “God! speak UP!)

Kid:  “Blah blah blah blah blah

Me:  “Say it louder, I can’t hear you!
(Inside my head: “Jeez this kid is never going to be able to speak to an adult and be taken seriously!  What’s going to happen when they have a problem at school?  Who is going to listen?  They’ll probably FAIL just because they can’t speak up and speak clearly!)

Kid: (a little louder, a little slower) “Blah   blah   blah   blah   blah!

Me:  “You need to look at me when you talk please.”
(Inside my head:  “Oh my god!  I’ve FAILED as a MOTHER!  What kind of parents are we?  HOW did we allow our children to get to this point?  They’ll never graduate!  They’ll never get into college!  What about work?  Will they every get hired?  Are they going to be living at home forever???  What have I done?!?  What can I do???)

Kid: (a little louder, a littler slower, looking directly at me) “Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah”

Me:  “Oh!  Okay!  See, wasn’t that easy?”

So the question is:

Is it me or is it them?

Next week I go in for a hearing test.  I’m super excited!  As I see it I am in a win-win situation.  If I do indeed have hearing loss, I can get help.  If I don’t, I’m right it IS the kids.

What about you?  Do you have a million dollar question in your house?

Photo credit: Jeroen van Oostrom

College Prep

Chrysanthemum and I went to a meet and greet for FIDM on Saturday. I know she’s ready, but I’m not. I love her. *sigh*

Dance Grooves

jump for joy!

You gotta love teenagers.  Especially young teenagers.  Middle schoolers to be exact.

I got to chaperone the dance at my kids’ (Lil’Sport and The Fonz) school.  It was awesome!  I love the music!  I love the loudness!  I love the screaming!  I love the jumping!  I love the darkness!  And I love the sense of excitement and expectation!

In fact, I love going to the dances so much I haven’t missed one in almost three years!  And every time, I have to hijack every cell of my soul not to run into the cluster of kids and break into my own rendition of The Casper Slide.

Today’s dance, like past dances was rife with oblivious awkwardness, coolness, experimentation, and hormones.  I mean seriously, don’t we all remember that awkward time of feeling cool, maybe not being cool, but thinking we are?

Which reminds me.  I love middle school kids!  Here’s why:

    • They’re willing to dance by themselves.  Wildly.
    • They dress up in silly costumes because they want to, not because of what their friends think.
    • They experiment.  In public.
    • They still skip when no one is looking.
    • When kids dance “fancy” the other ones crowd around in a circle to watch even if the dancer isn’t something necessarily good.  Just the fact they’re brave enough to “do dance moves” is reason enough to draw a crowd.  And the crowd cheers!
    • They chase each other.
    • They scream loudly when their favorite song comes on.  And then they scream some more.
    • They come to the dance even if they’re uncomfortable with it.  They try!
    • All the girls dance together.  All the boys dance together.
    • And sometimes boys and girls slow dance together.  Sort of.  It’s more like a long hug with little steps here and there.
    • They smile at grown ups.
    • And, they’re enthusiastic.

And this above all else is why I love middle schoolers.