The Stories of Us

For a few years, I documented all sorts of things from my day to day life here…but the most important things I documented were about my children. Everything was new and exciting and there were so many firsts. Like a soda bottle that had been jostled a bit too much, I was always bubbling over with emotions and feelings that I just had to get out.

There are still firsts now, as there always are until we shed these mortal coils, but I no longer feel the urge to share them. Or rather, I can’t seem to collect everything I’m feeling into any kind of order anymore and thus, I rarely even try.

Why is it all so hard now?

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Kids and Their Neverending Wants: Total Ingratitude or Totally Normal?

A friend recently mused over whether his children appreciate what is given to them after his younger child complained of not getting ice cream at the end of a whole day devoted to her and her wishes. This made me think a lot about my own children and whether they appreciate what they have, particularly as we’ve experienced the same type of ingratitude around here, too.

In my estimation, we live a typical middle-class (what’s left of it) life—we can’t afford a lot of luxuries but we are able to have most of the things we want and pretty much anything we really need. It should be noted, though, that my husband and I aren’t particularly materialistic people so our lifestyle may be modest by typical American standards.

Regardless, there are trips to theme parks and family vacations and modern computers and iPads and iPhones and Netflix and cable TV and super-fast fiber optic internet access and health insurance and quality organic food in the fridge and a scooter and two decent cars and big birthday celebrations and dance classes and t-ball and basketball and cheerleading and scouts and way too many Lego sets and several ridiculously expensive American Girl dolls and frequent outings for ice cream and the movies and a Wii and a Nintendo DS and a house full of toys.

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Comment Spam That Makes Me Love Comment Spam

Every now and then, you get some comment spam from someone who seems like they really know you…

“Hey super fun internet person, be my valentine? Just kidding, but you’ve got a spectacular writing style. If you weren’t a figment of my imagination, I’d write you poems and such.

I mean only someone who knows my heart and soul could know that those words? Are just the words I needed to hear. Except for the part where they call me a figment of their imagination.

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A Chore System for My Kids That Actually Works

When I only had one child and all her toys fit in a laundry basket, keeping the house clean was pretty easy. Now I have two kids that have way too much stuff, one house that is way too small and not nearly enough time to deal with working, parenting, chauffeuring, cooking AND housekeeping.

My solution?

Put the kids to work!

Well, that was the idea but it mostly amounted to me asking them to do various things around the house and them complaining and/or procrastinating and generally resisting anything resembling a chore.

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Dear Facebook, We Need to Talk

Hi Facebook.

Can we talk? Because I need to tell you something.

I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to say it.

I’ve been seeing someone else.

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This is Your Last Day on Earth—Start Talking

A few months back, my daughter and I were going to a tea house with her best friend and her best friend’s mom. We were early so we sat in the parking lot listening to a This American Life podcast while we waited.

I didn’t catch the whole story but it seemed to be about a dying mother who, thanks to annual letters she had written in advance to her daughter before she died, managed, for better or worse, to shape and impact her daughter’s life from beyond the grave.

Listening to this story made me sad. My own mom had died unexpectedly in an accident when I was 13. In all the years since her death, I’d only ever thought about all the things I’d never gotten to say to her. It NEVER ONCE occurred to me that maybe there were things she would have liked to have said to me before she died.

How is it possible that I’d  never considered this?

And it got me thinking of all the things I’d want my daughter and son to know if I was going to die tomorrow. For days afterward things popped into my mind faster than I could even remember them. I needed a BRAIN TIVO…

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A Pathetically Bad but Totally Heartfelt Poem for Blogger Suebob’s Birthday

Sue, I have known you

for so long

If I were more musical

I’d write you a song

Instead you get this

Please don’t feel dissed

We don’t “talk” every day

like we used to Continue reading »

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