Today is Star Wars Day. The grand celebration for good geeks everywhere.
May the Fourth be with you!
(And all the liturgical Star Wars fans say: “And also with you!”)
Greg and I found a light saber on our bed last night. It was the perfect May the Fourth Eve present. Greg considered arming himself with it for work this morning. He’s a software engineer; arming themselves with light sabers on May the Fourth is what they do. It’s what they live for. ...
Every year I’m a mom, I’m certain the Easter egg hunt can’t get any better.
From that very first time trying to convince my toddling Abby girl in her pristine, pressed Baby Gap dress, matchy-matchy bloomers and ruffle socks to amble toward the eggs that were littering the grass… to last year with myriad grubby kids (many of them mine) blithely elbowing siblings and cousins outta their way with nary a thought to the little people who could get hurt while they amassed personal billions in discount candy… every mental snapshot ups the ante. ...
This week at the beach, I taught my three littlest kids how to build a fire.
If you’re wondering what’s wrong with me, my children were in your camp. They all thought I was crazy, too. Are you sure that teaching fire-building is in our best interests, Mom? they asked with various words and skeptical glances.
I told them I was sure. It seemed like the thing to say. ...
I told my 12-year-old son tonight that I expect him to respect me.
Specifically, I said, that means not duh-ragging his heels on finishing his chores.
He responded emphatically that he was not dragging his heels and also, oh my GOSH, Mom!
I mentioned that taking 22 hours to unload the dishwasher is, too, dragging his heels and that the eye-rolling, body-flopping, voice-harumphing, martyr-sounding drama accompanying the heel-dragging only proves I’m right. ...
Honestly, navigating my kids’ special education world has proved to be as much about finding my way as it is about educating my kids, and – wooeee! – I was totally unprepared for that at the beginning of this gig!
In the early years of stumbling through the special needs dark, which I like to call the Befuddlement Time (or, the What The Hell time), I thought I was searching for the One True Path. Kind of like the Path of Righteousness or the Path of Eternal Security. Except, in this case, I was hoping to find the Path of Special Needs Success. ...
WOOHOO! It finally happened! Just when I doubted that my lengthy (but extra fun and engaging) lectures were making a difference, my 12-year-old said this to his 10-year-old sister yesterday:
“You don’t need to play Wii, Aden. It’s a beautiful day. Let’s go ride bikes.”
LET’S GO RIDE BIKES, Ian said.
I just don’t understand why people doubt that miracles still happen. I mean, who needs Grilled Cheesus to point the way to God when there’s a 12-year-old boy child in America who will choose bike riding over video games? ...
My teenage daughter just told me that she DOES have homework, AFTER ALL.
Which is really SO HILARIOUS (read: not hilarious), because just one hour ago I walked in the house with a small child, a box of popsicles, my purse (complete with hairspray, gel and bobby pins because I did my hair in the work bathroom this morning – go, me!), a backpack of wet gear from preschool swim lessons, and 3.75 kid art projects because one didn’t quite make the move from the car intact. ...
