I confess.
Ever since I saw the movie "Oh God" with the dearly departed John Denver and George Burns, (when I was no more than a wee mite, yay high to a grasshopper), I have developed, cherished, nurtured and protected a very skewed and decidedly non traditional belief system about the universe and the power(s) that created it.
My belief system got a big ROFLMAO epiphany today when BamBam brought home, at my request, his "Everyday Math" textbook.
To really appreciate the irony of this request you have to understand that I, during the course of my "formal" education, could in no way be classified as a math geek.
Language geek....YES! My mother taught English and Literature at my junior and then followed me to high school.
I do love me some puhrty words!!! And conjugation....swoon!
Heh...typing that is just...FUN! My mother would laugh, roll her eyes and then correct me, in that EXACT order.
Anyway, moving back to the topic at hand.
I SUCKED royally at anything remotely related to math. My mother attributes it to a colleague at said high school who thought it was a GRAND idea to do all of her lesson plans on an overhead..............after lunch.
Hello??? Knock, knock...anyone home? Full tummy...dark room....SIESTA!!! Seriously, a full two-thirds of the class was asleep 10 minutes into the "lesson".
Which brings me back to my point. I do have one. Really I do. Just stick with me. It's good. Really. No really. I'm just channeling my inner Wendy/Joshilyn free associative thought process.
Are you having fun? I'm having fun!
So the big cosmic irony in it all is that, to help my son learn algebra/geometry/exponents/partial sum equations...blah...blah...blah....I must actually, finally, really.....
learn it myself!!!!!
Hahahahahahhahahahhahahaahaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaa
I'm telling you...the universe is one freakin hilarious he/she/whose name must not be spoken stand up comedian of the first order.
That is all. It is now time for me to go read the textbook cover to cover.
Stop laughing. I hear you laughing. ALRIGHT...GO! Go ahead and laugh.
I'm there with you.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
Break on through to the other side
Motherhood. To borrow from a Tale of Two Cities "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times"
I think back to the days when I:
...was absolutely positive that I would not LIVE another single second if I didn't get more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep. But I did.
...couldn't wait for them to eat with a spoon, tie their own shoes, bathe themselves, go to school all day. And then they did.
And now I see:
An 8 and 10 year old, who do their homework with practically no assistance from me, make their beds, help with chores, set out their own clothes, remind ME of things they need for school.
Why so nostalgic today? Because today...my oldest brought home a 98 on a unit math test. All I did the week before, was ask his teacher to send home some extra skill sheets for him to use. He did the rest himself.
I can't tell you how HUGE this is for him...and for me and for the family. Last year, passing was all we could hope for him. A 98 was just this impossibly far star in a constellation that we could barely see for him. BamBam was diagnosed with ADD last spring, a diagnosis that we fought and fought and fought....for YEARS.
Until we couldn't fight anymore. And all my love and extra time couldn't help. And the disproportional time we were spending with him began to negatively impacting Thumper.
But now? Now he can stand on his own and do the work and claim the pride in that work. ALL on his own. His self esteem? The light has come back to his eyes.
Last spring we had the diagnosis and the meds, but we had the baggage of the first of the year and the years before.
This is a new year.
It is FINALLY his time to shine.
Shine on my star...shine on.
Side note: If you suspect your child or MORE importantly your child's teacher suspects they have ADD? Don't wait. Get them tested. And for those who don't think there is such a thing as ADD?Neither did my DH. He was the world's most vocal critic of the suggestion and then the testing and the whole stigma. And please don't get me started about the meds. You would have thought Concerta was the AntiChrist in his book. But 7 months later...let's just say time has a way of bringing things to light.
I think back to the days when I:
...was absolutely positive that I would not LIVE another single second if I didn't get more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep. But I did.
...couldn't wait for them to eat with a spoon, tie their own shoes, bathe themselves, go to school all day. And then they did.
And now I see:
An 8 and 10 year old, who do their homework with practically no assistance from me, make their beds, help with chores, set out their own clothes, remind ME of things they need for school.
Why so nostalgic today? Because today...my oldest brought home a 98 on a unit math test. All I did the week before, was ask his teacher to send home some extra skill sheets for him to use. He did the rest himself.
I can't tell you how HUGE this is for him...and for me and for the family. Last year, passing was all we could hope for him. A 98 was just this impossibly far star in a constellation that we could barely see for him. BamBam was diagnosed with ADD last spring, a diagnosis that we fought and fought and fought....for YEARS.
Until we couldn't fight anymore. And all my love and extra time couldn't help. And the disproportional time we were spending with him began to negatively impacting Thumper.
But now? Now he can stand on his own and do the work and claim the pride in that work. ALL on his own. His self esteem? The light has come back to his eyes.
Last spring we had the diagnosis and the meds, but we had the baggage of the first of the year and the years before.
This is a new year.
It is FINALLY his time to shine.
Shine on my star...shine on.
Side note: If you suspect your child or MORE importantly your child's teacher suspects they have ADD? Don't wait. Get them tested. And for those who don't think there is such a thing as ADD?Neither did my DH. He was the world's most vocal critic of the suggestion and then the testing and the whole stigma. And please don't get me started about the meds. You would have thought Concerta was the AntiChrist in his book. But 7 months later...let's just say time has a way of bringing things to light.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
First Promise
................of FALL!
It's been raining all day yesterday and all day today and the thermometer on the outside of my deck reads 60 degrees at 4pm....in Georgia for rying out loud!
So we have thrown open every single window and storm window that has been fastened against the infamous and pervasive summer heat and humidity of the Deep South, turned on the attic fan and are luxuriating in the cool moist breezes pouring through our house.
I do love a good rain.
It's been raining all day yesterday and all day today and the thermometer on the outside of my deck reads 60 degrees at 4pm....in Georgia for rying out loud!
So we have thrown open every single window and storm window that has been fastened against the infamous and pervasive summer heat and humidity of the Deep South, turned on the attic fan and are luxuriating in the cool moist breezes pouring through our house.
I do love a good rain.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Helping Hands
Today on the 5th anniversary of 9-11, at 8:40 AM, I pressed send calls on my phone at work so it went straight to voice mail, no ring. I kept it on for 20 minutes. No one called. (I checked aftwerwards of course) And I used the time to think, reflect, pray and give thanks.
My boys, however, they did something much more tangible. It may have no impact on future lives. It may have an impact on their lives down the road. Or both. I may know in time or never know.
It doesn't really matter.
Today, their entire school participated in it's first community service day, as one body.
Wearing special T-shirts emblazoned with a logo of hands spanning the earth and holding a heart and the motto "Helping Hands Day" they climbed aboard extra buses that transported them to different worlds. Flung them to the far reaches of Metro Atlanta. Far from their white bread, upper middle class, privileged, safe lives.
My oldest picked up trash at Nicholas House an organization that provides up to two years of housing to homeless families as they learn a career, manage money and other skills that we all take for granted, I think.
He told me "Mom, this is supposed to be a drug free zone, but I spent my whole day picking up beer bottles and cigarette butts"
All I could think was "Oh baby, if that's all the trash you picked up.............."
My youngest, made sandwiches and packed first aid kits.
This isin't the first time that either of them have made sandwiches for the homeless. They are quite expert at the art of PBJ assembly.
But this time Thumper, after working at the task all day long, climbed in at carpool and asked "Mommy....I made PBJ's ALL DAY and the teachers tell me it's not enough for everyone....how many ARE there? Can we stop and get some more bread and jelly and peanut butter and do some more tonight? Will THAT be enough?"
Oh baby. Not enough, not nearly enough.
But if only a small percentage of the kids who were touched by what they saw and did and felt today remains....then we may have the start of a quiet revolution, in our own very small little corner of the world.
Never forget. Never give up. Believe always.
My boys, however, they did something much more tangible. It may have no impact on future lives. It may have an impact on their lives down the road. Or both. I may know in time or never know.
It doesn't really matter.
Today, their entire school participated in it's first community service day, as one body.
Wearing special T-shirts emblazoned with a logo of hands spanning the earth and holding a heart and the motto "Helping Hands Day" they climbed aboard extra buses that transported them to different worlds. Flung them to the far reaches of Metro Atlanta. Far from their white bread, upper middle class, privileged, safe lives.
My oldest picked up trash at Nicholas House an organization that provides up to two years of housing to homeless families as they learn a career, manage money and other skills that we all take for granted, I think.
He told me "Mom, this is supposed to be a drug free zone, but I spent my whole day picking up beer bottles and cigarette butts"
All I could think was "Oh baby, if that's all the trash you picked up.............."
My youngest, made sandwiches and packed first aid kits.
This isin't the first time that either of them have made sandwiches for the homeless. They are quite expert at the art of PBJ assembly.
But this time Thumper, after working at the task all day long, climbed in at carpool and asked "Mommy....I made PBJ's ALL DAY and the teachers tell me it's not enough for everyone....how many ARE there? Can we stop and get some more bread and jelly and peanut butter and do some more tonight? Will THAT be enough?"
Oh baby. Not enough, not nearly enough.
But if only a small percentage of the kids who were touched by what they saw and did and felt today remains....then we may have the start of a quiet revolution, in our own very small little corner of the world.
Never forget. Never give up. Believe always.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Lazy Sunday
I know we should be cleaning the house, because there are little tiny doggy dust piles of hair along the baseboards.
But instead here I sit reading, working my way through my stack of books from the library by my bed.
In no particular order
"The Devil Wears Prada" I waited weeks to get this book from the waitlist and my sole motivation was that I'd seen the trailers for the movie with Meryl Streep and I'm a sucker for all things Meryl. My review. Don't bother. I read the first ten chapters, became highly annoyed with the flat one-dimensional depictions of the uber beyotch boss, flipped to the last chapter and called it a day. I haven't done that with a book in YEARS! I'm usually pretty tolerant, but this was just a waste of my time.
"Secret Society Girl" Definitely a cut above Prada. I was very intrigued by the whole concept of the secret societies of the Ivy Leagues. Even though I was in a sorority in college, there was nothing secretive about membership. It was clever, subtly amusing and engaging. And it's to be a series, next novel being based in DC. I will keep my eye on this one.
"Savannah Blues" Loved it! It's set in Savannah (duh) one of my favorite all time cities in the US. Antiques, a hunky chef, murder, mystery...exactly my cup of tea. And the whole time I'm reading it I'm thinking to myself, there is something vaguely familiar about this author's style and timing and pace and humor and attention to detail. So I go visit her website after I finish up and lo and behold, the author, Mary Kay Andrews, is none other than Kathy Hogan Trochak. She of the Callahan Garrity series set in Atlanta. She hasn't released anything under that plume de nom for years and I wondered what happened to her. And I was left wondering why she didn't reference her writing credentials from that hugely popular series. Maybe a publishing house thing? I don't know. I was just happy to be reading her work again.
And now that I have finished Savannah Blues I really must get my husband blasted from his prone football watching position on the sofa, rally the child labor and get to work.
For dinner....meatloaf! I love it when I remember to double or triple a recipe and freeze it for future use. Makes me feel all resourceful and pioneer woman "ish"!
Happy Sunday peeps!
But instead here I sit reading, working my way through my stack of books from the library by my bed.
In no particular order
"The Devil Wears Prada" I waited weeks to get this book from the waitlist and my sole motivation was that I'd seen the trailers for the movie with Meryl Streep and I'm a sucker for all things Meryl. My review. Don't bother. I read the first ten chapters, became highly annoyed with the flat one-dimensional depictions of the uber beyotch boss, flipped to the last chapter and called it a day. I haven't done that with a book in YEARS! I'm usually pretty tolerant, but this was just a waste of my time.
"Secret Society Girl" Definitely a cut above Prada. I was very intrigued by the whole concept of the secret societies of the Ivy Leagues. Even though I was in a sorority in college, there was nothing secretive about membership. It was clever, subtly amusing and engaging. And it's to be a series, next novel being based in DC. I will keep my eye on this one.
"Savannah Blues" Loved it! It's set in Savannah (duh) one of my favorite all time cities in the US. Antiques, a hunky chef, murder, mystery...exactly my cup of tea. And the whole time I'm reading it I'm thinking to myself, there is something vaguely familiar about this author's style and timing and pace and humor and attention to detail. So I go visit her website after I finish up and lo and behold, the author, Mary Kay Andrews, is none other than Kathy Hogan Trochak. She of the Callahan Garrity series set in Atlanta. She hasn't released anything under that plume de nom for years and I wondered what happened to her. And I was left wondering why she didn't reference her writing credentials from that hugely popular series. Maybe a publishing house thing? I don't know. I was just happy to be reading her work again.
And now that I have finished Savannah Blues I really must get my husband blasted from his prone football watching position on the sofa, rally the child labor and get to work.
For dinner....meatloaf! I love it when I remember to double or triple a recipe and freeze it for future use. Makes me feel all resourceful and pioneer woman "ish"!
Happy Sunday peeps!
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Recap
The literary festival was fabulous!
At least according to my criteria.
And the male faction of my little harem gave it a big booyah because they wandered off to a little history museum in the courthouse while I was being entertained by one of my favorite authors.
Diana Gabladon, she's up for a Qwill award and considering what she writes and how she writes is true testament to her genius.
And she's funny, as in "I can't laugh too hard or take a breath because I'll miss three other really, REALLY killer lines and I don't care if she's said it dozens of times before she is BRILLIANT!"
What's not to love about a woman (with a doctorate addressing the migratory nesting habits of Eastern American songbirds birds) who can respond to THIS query by a member of the German press, "What is the appeal of a man in a kilt" and responds by saying, "Well the thought he could have me up against the wall in 10 minutes"
I rest my case.
So after the festival, which was woefully lacking in really engaging children's activites (I have an email in draft form to the organizers, very supportive with just some very concrete suggestions and observations) we went to to the Dekalb Farmers Market.
Let me tell you.
If anyone has EVER thought of Atlanta as anything BUT an International city, I challenge you to the experience that which is the Dekalb (pronounced DuhCab) Farmer's Market.
First off... I have to say that the "NO photography allowed
inside" sign, cut me to the quick. I sooooooooooo wanted to take pictures. But. The owner. He be savvy. No photography, no stealing of trade secrets.
But oh my soul. If I could paint with words what I could capture with photographs.
The colors and the aromas and sheer insane variety of food spilling out of the stalls. And the HUGE whole fish swimming in aquarium sized vats. And the prices....please. I paid 7.99 a pound for wild Coho Alaskan salmon. It's 17.99 at my local grocery store.
And then there are the flags.
Flags representing every nation, of every employee working at the market.....fluttering from the rafters.
A BIG beautiful teaming mass of language and dress and culture.
It was like being in the UN, only 600 miles south.
My children were mesmerized. I was in heaven.
Therefore, I have decreed that every other Sunday afternoon, we shall make the short 20 minute drive to fill our fridge and expand our minds.
Viva la difference!
At least according to my criteria.
And the male faction of my little harem gave it a big booyah because they wandered off to a little history museum in the courthouse while I was being entertained by one of my favorite authors.
Diana Gabladon, she's up for a Qwill award and considering what she writes and how she writes is true testament to her genius.
And she's funny, as in "I can't laugh too hard or take a breath because I'll miss three other really, REALLY killer lines and I don't care if she's said it dozens of times before she is BRILLIANT!"
What's not to love about a woman (with a doctorate addressing the migratory nesting habits of Eastern American songbirds birds) who can respond to THIS query by a member of the German press, "What is the appeal of a man in a kilt" and responds by saying, "Well the thought he could have me up against the wall in 10 minutes"
I rest my case.
So after the festival, which was woefully lacking in really engaging children's activites (I have an email in draft form to the organizers, very supportive with just some very concrete suggestions and observations) we went to to the Dekalb Farmers Market.
Let me tell you.
If anyone has EVER thought of Atlanta as anything BUT an International city, I challenge you to the experience that which is the Dekalb (pronounced DuhCab) Farmer's Market.
First off... I have to say that the "NO photography allowed
inside" sign, cut me to the quick. I sooooooooooo wanted to take pictures. But. The owner. He be savvy. No photography, no stealing of trade secrets.
But oh my soul. If I could paint with words what I could capture with photographs.
The colors and the aromas and sheer insane variety of food spilling out of the stalls. And the HUGE whole fish swimming in aquarium sized vats. And the prices....please. I paid 7.99 a pound for wild Coho Alaskan salmon. It's 17.99 at my local grocery store.
And then there are the flags.
Flags representing every nation, of every employee working at the market.....fluttering from the rafters.
A BIG beautiful teaming mass of language and dress and culture.
It was like being in the UN, only 600 miles south.
My children were mesmerized. I was in heaven.
Therefore, I have decreed that every other Sunday afternoon, we shall make the short 20 minute drive to fill our fridge and expand our minds.
Viva la difference!
Friday, September 01, 2006
Etc
So.
I have this massive pile of books on my nightstand from my local library because I am a greedy little literary "HO" and it's Labor Day Week-End. And I'm getting ready to go into my "Deep space...I'm reading....don't talk to Mommy mode"
Well ACUTALLY...I am a greedy little literary HO, sans library card. Which WAS on my desk last Friday when I renewed and requested and otherwise updated my account like a good little law abiding book geek. But then the card just upped and walked itself into parts unknown. After TEN years. Ingrate.
Now? Now, I have to turn over my drivers license at checkout time and I'm not really all good with that, because I'm having the weird "naked in front of the classroom" kind of nightmare thing going on without my card.
I just don't feel legit without my card. Guess I better steal a buck from the kids piggy bank and make myself an honest woman with a replacement card huh?
Because
A) I don't carry cash because
B) I have a debit card and
C) Who freakin charges a buck on their debit card, which means
D) I am dead if I ever am held up in midtown because...well refer to A
But looking on the bright side. (That would be the insane Pollyanna gene running amok in my DNA that everyone whispers about but never discusses in polite conversation)
Tomorrow....AHHHHHHHHHH. Tomorrow dear peeps......is the First Annual Decatur Book Festival! Woohoo! 100 plus authors, regional, national, global. Be STILL my heart...sigh!
My two favorites, like fangirl squealing favorites, are going to be speaking and signing. SQUEE!
And then there's the food and wine and beer venues. Shirley Corriher, Nathalie Dupree, Scott Peacock. Don't know them??? Google is your friend.
Music....swoon...Emily Sailers (and her folk artist father)
Yes weeuns in da South do has us some EdYOUCaySHEEOn
In short, I will be having a FINE Labor Day week-end.
I have this massive pile of books on my nightstand from my local library because I am a greedy little literary "HO" and it's Labor Day Week-End. And I'm getting ready to go into my "Deep space...I'm reading....don't talk to Mommy mode"
Well ACUTALLY...I am a greedy little literary HO, sans library card. Which WAS on my desk last Friday when I renewed and requested and otherwise updated my account like a good little law abiding book geek. But then the card just upped and walked itself into parts unknown. After TEN years. Ingrate.
Now? Now, I have to turn over my drivers license at checkout time and I'm not really all good with that, because I'm having the weird "naked in front of the classroom" kind of nightmare thing going on without my card.
I just don't feel legit without my card. Guess I better steal a buck from the kids piggy bank and make myself an honest woman with a replacement card huh?
Because
A) I don't carry cash because
B) I have a debit card and
C) Who freakin charges a buck on their debit card, which means
D) I am dead if I ever am held up in midtown because...well refer to A
But looking on the bright side. (That would be the insane Pollyanna gene running amok in my DNA that everyone whispers about but never discusses in polite conversation)
Tomorrow....AHHHHHHHHHH. Tomorrow dear peeps......is the First Annual Decatur Book Festival! Woohoo! 100 plus authors, regional, national, global. Be STILL my heart...sigh!
My two favorites, like fangirl squealing favorites, are going to be speaking and signing. SQUEE!
And then there's the food and wine and beer venues. Shirley Corriher, Nathalie Dupree, Scott Peacock. Don't know them??? Google is your friend.
Music....swoon...Emily Sailers (and her folk artist father)
Yes weeuns in da South do has us some EdYOUCaySHEEOn
In short, I will be having a FINE Labor Day week-end.
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