June?

Wasn’t it just May? And February? Where does the time go?? Wondering what’s up with all these question marks? Sorry. I know I haven’t written in a bit, but absence makes the heart grow fonder right? So you must be very fonder by now, right? Right? Sorry again.

Here’s what I’ve been up to:

- I haven’t been working out or doing a cleanse. Shocked?

- We finished up 10th grade and 4th grade. Piano lessons with Ms. Tatyana are over. Dasvidaniya!

- We started camp. Slept until 2pm. Started complaining about camp. Have already been to a beach, a mall and an amusement park in the 2 days that we’ve been off. Notice that I don’t incriminate anyone. I use the royal “WE”. I’m a good mom like that.

- Since I’m all caught up with The Good Wife, I needed another binge show. Hello Walking Dead. The zombie apocalypse, blood, gore and old fashioned romance. What’s there not to love? Although I’m not built for that. I know my limitations. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’d never make it if the world ended. All that fighting-to-survive stuff seems exhausting. Here’s a quote from my other summer obsession, The Mindy Project, that explains it best – “You know my plan in an emergency is to count to ten and wait for death’s embrace.” Yep. That’s about right.

- After 42 years of obsessing if food is vegetarian or not – I’m eating Cesar salad now. To hell with anchovy paste! I’ve probable had 5 or 6 little fish by now. I’m a rebel. Not really.

- I’ve been taking random sunset pictures. From planes, trains and automobiles. Cause why not? Sorry, had to finish with a question mark. Is that annoying?

20140624-223012-81012819.jpg

20140624-223323-81203123.jpg

20140624-224528.jpg

Little Miracle

IMG_8579

 

Maybe it’s because I’ve been away for work for a bit and I’m overly emotional.

Maybe it’s because I worry about literally every situation my kids could possibly get into to. Past, present and future.

I worry they’ll grow up wrong.

I worry they’ll remember their childhoods painfully. Or without joy. Or not at all.

I worry they’ll never want to see us when they are no longer mandated by law to live with us.

I worry.

So when I came home to find this homework assignment that my daughter did it almost killed me with joy.

The assignment was to write about an ” Ordinary Miracle” in your life, and my daughter decided to write about her brother.

Waaaaa!! I can’t even think about it because it just makes me melt.

I am not allowed by the laws of teenagehood to show you the actual assignment, but let me tell you, it’s amazing.

I am really close to my sister, and my husband is super close to his sisters too – so the fact that she wrote about her brother as her ordinary miracle will bring a smile to my face for a long time. Forever maybe.

It was an extraordinary miracle to me.

IMG_1011IMG_3712IMG_5545IMG_7103

 

 

 

As if it mattered

20131010-065354.jpg

This is my sons backpack.
It’s got his initials on it – so he knows it’s his.
He and I toiled over the shade of blue, I wanted a lighter sky blue – he loved this darker color.
I paid extra for shipping so he’d have it in time for school.
Inside the backpack is his homework, his books, his snack, his water, his musical instrument, and his jacket. He didn’t want to wear the jacket but I was convinced he’d need it at recess. I felt so good about remembering to give it to him. Yeah me!
Also inside is his itouch. He saved and collected every penny from his birthday and Christmas last year to buy one. He begged and pleaded with my husband and I to take it on the bus. I said ok . My husband said no. Conversations ensued.
An agreement was reached. A deal was made. But then I decided he could take it one last time before the new rules went into effect.
This is where the time goes.
Know where this backpack is? On the kitchen floor.
Know where my son is? On the bus to school.
That’s about right.

Confession

I share this story because this is why I have a blog. I debated whether to come clean for quite a bit this morning, and decided not to edit myself.

My daughter’s first day of school is tomorrow, but she’s in this peer leader program and had to go in today to welcome the incoming Freshman.  Because we live in a different town then her high school, bus service was not available today and I had to drop her off at 7am.

On my way back I noticed a ton of buses from our school district all over our neighborhood. Hmm…I thought. School starts tomorrow, why are buses running today? As I turned onto our street I noticed a bunch of middle schoolers at the corner.  They usually get picked up an hour before my son gets picked up.

My stomach turned a bit. Beads of sweat started to form. No. Today is Tuesday. School starts tomorrow. Right? Why didn’t I bring my phone with me? No biggie. I know I’m right.

I got home and ran into the kitchen – yep, the calendar says school starts on the 28th. Wednesday. Tomorrow. I grabbed my phone and checked the date. Gulp. Everyone in the neighborhood was right. Today was Wednesday.

I ran upstairs like a lunatic and woke my son up.

“School starts today!! Today! Today! Wake up! Brush your teeth!”

My husband casually walked in my son’s room, I shouted some obscenities, and he walked out.

I frantically pulled the tags off all the clothes and ran downstairs.  We’d ordered his backpack in July and I’d stuffed it in a closet. Somewhere. I remember feeling so organized when it came in the mail. Like one of those people who buys Christmas presents in the summer. Found it!

That relief was quickly gone when I realized the bag was empty.  I never bought the supplies.

Why? Because it was 5 silly little things that I thought I’d pick up at the last-minute.

I grabbed my wallet and headed to CVS.

I love CVS. I owe CVS a debt of gratitude and appreciation.

I grabbed Expo markers, red/green/blue/yellow plastic (not laminated) folders, composition books, pencils, zippered pencil-case – and milk for cereal. I would have grabbed Xanax if it was OTC.

By the time I got home we had 15 minutes.

I made him eat while I labeled and packed everything.

5 minutes to go.

I doused his hair with water and out the door he went.

Like we’d planned it all along.

photo

 

Excuse me while I go throw up.

 

 

 

 

 

All so they can play chopsticks at a dinner party when they’re grown-up

photo

Two years ago my husband found an old-school, Russian piano teacher. He did this how he does everything. Complete tunnel vision until objective is achieved. There’s no giving up in parenting!  The first year was a comedy of errors full of Three’s Company type of misunderstandings due to her very thick accent (which my son calls her volume).  I’d sit in the other room and hear a lot of, “Svweetee..vould you try zat again?” “what? oh. try it again? ok.” …..”zank you” “what? oh. you’re welcome”.  She’s like the nicer, gentler, Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle.

It’s gotten better. But every summer we take a couple of months off.  To give the kids a break. To give Tatyana a break. And let’s be honest, to give me a break. But summer is officially over when she walks in at 6pm on a Tuesday night. Homework, projects, parent-teacher meetings all follow quickly after.

I snuck in the room tonight and recorded the below. This is what I will hear from 6pm to 7pm every Tuesday until next June. Help me.

Peace Out

20130619-214353.jpg

Look who’s sitting in the front seat (EVERYONE sits in the front seat now).
Look who’s finished with 3rd grade.
Look who the teacher said she’d miss the most.
Look who’s looking forward to no more piano lessons until August.
Look who told me he no longer needs blue blankie (aka yangster) to sleep at night.
Look who gets bummed when his sister isn’t around.
Look who makes me happy, cranky, giddy, angry, sad, and joyful all at the same time.
Look who is 10 feet tall all of a sudden.
Excuse me while I go cry in a corner.

Here’s to you Mrs. Jones

IMG_4653

This is my boy and his all time favorite teacher – Mrs. Jones.

A second after 3rd grade started, the teacher he was supposed to have all year had a baby and Mrs. Jones stepped in. She immediately turned the room into an interactive, dynamic place – new rugs, new wall coverings, new everything. It wasn’t just room B-6, it was Hollywood.  All the “kiddos”, as she called them, were mini directors in their own productions. The room was covered in colorful, themed imagery.  She was animated and sweet and my boy (and the whole class) loved it.

As the year went on and we all got to know Mrs. Jones, it was clear how much she loved teaching and how much she loved our kids. Yes, all the usual teaching stuff happened. They learned, they read, they wrote.  But her class was more than that – it was fun. It was silly. It was over the top. And it was exactly what those little people needed. I’ve never had a teacher send me daily updates (sometimes more!) or pictures of fun things the class did that day.  We even got Sunday reminders of what the week ahead would look like. I don’t know about you, but I try very hard to forget where I work from Friday night to Sunday night, not her.  It was obvious that this wasn’t a burden for her.

This past week we got a letter from the school that our original teacher (who I’m sure is a wonderful person) is coming back for the last two months of school.

Devastation ensued.

9 year olds crying everywhere.

I still remember my favorite elementary school teacher, Mr. Walter Freeman. 4th Grade. He ate oranges at his desk every morning. When you went up to talk to him,  he had a citrus halo around him. Is it weird that almost all my good memories have food related connections? Anyway. He was dreamy.

Teaching is a calling. You need some sort of superpower to be able to walk into those classrooms every day and actually enjoy being there.

So good luck to you Mrs. Jones – there’s a lucky class out there waiting for your cheery voice.  Thanks for making a really good memory for my boy.

Peace out 2012

It’s been a year hasn’t it?  I won’t go into a list of resolutions (because I don’t have any) or  tell you about the happy, tragic, ridiculous things that have happened in the world this year.  You can google those.  But personally, for me and my fam, this year has been full of change. We leapt into high school, turned 40, let a teenager join Facebook, agreed to let a 9 year play football, saw the Eiffel tower, mended some broken fences (literally and figuratively), discovered gel manicures, skipped Fall Ball and did not feel guilty about it, and oh yeah – started a blog.

I  needed a hobby, something besides eating. Last year, around this time, I started thinking about WMEP.  In all honesty, I started the blog to write about event planning. After all, it’s what I do, it’s what I love. But then I began thinking about blog titles – and defining myself as just a planner didn’t fit. Something was off.  I read a few blogs on how to start blogs.  Then, like the true spaz that I am, I read blogs on how to blog successfully. What kind of blog did I want to be? Funny? Informative? Personal? Lots of pressure. I didn’t tell anyone about it at first, but eventually I owned up to my husband.  I told him that in order to make it interesting – I may have to put some personal family stuff out into the universe. With photos. Because I’m convinced people need a visual. Or is that just me? He told me to go for it (with a few caveats).  And so I did. It took me a few months to get my act together, to get back to writing, to do something that was literally just for me.  And I loved it. I love it.

In the beginning I wrote every day – or tried to. It’s been harder the last few months, work and stress and life seem to be taking up all my time. But it’s the start of a new year, I’ve been writing since last April. 178 posts. Over 16,000 views. Almost a 1,000 comments. I’m hooked!

So maybe I will make a resolution for 2013. I resolve to blog every day. Or at least every other day. Every week at the latest.

I resolve to write something in 2013 at some time.

See how tough I am?

We toasted the New Year in last night with shrimp and champagne. Hope you were toasted too.

IMG_4797 IMG_4794

Back to life….back to reality

Back to work.

Back to errands.

Back to dishes, laundry, cooking, cleaning, homework, picking-up/dropping-off, conference calls, deadlines, bills.

Back to being behind on sending out birthday cards, birthday gifts, calling my mom, touching base with friends, making the kids practice piano, eating right, calling my mom, cleaning out my closet.

Back to fake butter, fake cream, the opposite of a flaky croissant, coffee without espresso, no crepes in sight.

I’m going to bed.

Here’s some pictures of my happy place.

non sequitur sunday

Everyone’s got some sort of sneezy, snorty, itchy-eyed allergy ridden cold

School’s in full swing, 2 back-to-school nights down, reading logs are already being ignored. Back to normal.

My blogging hasn’t gotten enough love from me, cause I’m tired! Sorry. No more excuses. Back to the everyday blog – starting tomorrow.

Did I tell you that I’m leaving for Paris at the end of the week. The trip of my dreams. A present from my man for my 40th.  Did I also tell you that I realized my passport was expired during a random conversation in bed the other night.  It’s been fun. The only thing that is sustaining me is traveling to a place where my completely black wardrobe will fit right in. Wine. Cheese. Bread. Black clothes. I may never come back.

Kim Kardashian is always eating on “Keeping Up With The Kardashians”.

Boardwalk Empire starts tonight. I’m excited until I remember that Jimmy was killed off. What’s really left for me?

Am I the only one that gets bit by bugs the nano second I step outside?  I’ve been using more Calamine Lotion than moisturizer.

I have 22 almost rotten bananas in my freezer. I see my husband roll his eyes every time he opens the freezer.  How many more bananas will it take to drive him bananas? Which one will be the banana that broke his back? Is that a banana in your freezer or are you just nuts?

I saw the woman who does my pedicures in a shoe store – it was an awkward encounter, I don’t know why.

Tomorrow’s blog will be full of humor, intelligence and brilliance!  Just kiddin’ – it’ll be more of this shit.

 

Previous Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 400 other followers