“Have fun!” I waved Scott out the back door, false smile plastered on my face. Dear God, I thought he’d never leave
. And yet, he’s ten minutes early.
“Kids, good news! You’re having a play date with Kristopher.”
“Now.” Linda’s van honked from my driveway. I herded my children out front. “Hurry up.”
They couldn’t see my hands shaking as I shooed Sam to sit beside Kristopher. They couldn’t feel my heart racing as I kissed them goodbye. They had no idea what I was about to do. “Don’t forget Sam’s six o’clock meds.”
Linda held up the pill bottle.… Read the rest
Poor Scott. He’s my sounding board for all my story ideas. He has to be prepared at the drop of a hat to answer questions about presidential elections, random animal behaviors, and everything else that pops into my head. I can Google this shit. But I don’t. At least, not until after I ask him.
Because here’s the thing about Scott. He is a repository of facts. If he hadn’t gone into history, he’d have made a damned fine librarian, because he is also an expert in knowing what questions to ask.
And usually, when I ask him these things, I’m in a spurt of idea generation.… Read the rest
In the absence
of a ball game, we took Scott out to the rain delay to celebrate his birthday. Not quite the same. But then, we’ve never been your standard family, so we enjoyed it a lot until everything was cancelled outright. Oh well. We get in free come Saturday. Happy Birthday, hon.
The snacks were good, anyway. Of course, it was ballpark food, so that probably goes without saying. I’m dieting. I ate exactly one bite of a hot dog. #martyrproblems. Oh, and then I went and got the car, all dolled up for our inability to remember umbrellas.… Read the rest
And now, allow me to bring you the best and most unexpected guest post ever. I took the kids grocery shopping, and we picked out Sam’s birthday cake for next weekend, and when I got back, Scott had written me a mother’s day card with various quotations of dubious origin. These are things the authors only told him, let me assure you.
But I will share them with you, because I love you like my mother. Or something.
“Fork clang. Shoes on. Love. the trash went out…” — Joyce
“Love. Pointless. Dying. Alone. Perhaps only partly cloudy.”– Hemingway
“Love, a yes, that, as it spring forth anew each day with the force of a river fed from high in the mountains, from a spring up there…” — Dickens
“Love, the thing that is beautiful just like a rose” — Shakespeare
“A life without love is like a squirrel pie without the squirrel” — William Shakespeare Bocephus.… Read the rest
To fully understand this story, you must know two things. One: always growing up, we either had a fake tree or a balled and burlapped one. OK, there was a time in my infancy when we had real cut trees. But Dad decided live trees were a fire hazard in our living room, with its live fireplace, so for years we went over to fakies. (Never mind that for the tree to catch fire, it would have needed to get up and walk more than halfway across the room, then
fall over into the hearth.)
Two: I didn’t much like decorating anyway, starting from a young age.… Read the rest
Well, Sam didn’t poop at all yesterday, in spite of some forty five minutes spent sitting obligingly on the pot. I couldn’t bring myself to molest him with that damned enema a fourth night in a row, and so he had to have two tonight before producing a nasty hard mass. I suppose it’s time to bypass the pediatrician and go find a shit-ologist to see what is up with my baby’s ass.
However, there is one bright spot. In the midst of tonight’s ordeal, Caroline had to fend for herself for quite awhile. At one point, I was sitting on the bathroom floor discussing poop with Sam, and Caroline wandered around the corner holding an old book.… Read the rest
For a number of reasons that will be dealt with later, I’ve been under an unusual amount of stress lately. The raw effect of this for my family is that I’m more short tempered than normal, and much less tolerant of my kids’ perfectly normal (if perfectly obnoxious) behavior. My students can’t see me in person, so they don’t experience my deep sighs when they ask questions with answers I consider obvious. Unlike my kids and husband, they never receive responses like, “I don’t fucking know. Jesus Christ, do I look like the Dali Lama?” To keep these moments to a minimum, I’ve been letting the Jester Queen have a bit more free rein.… Read the rest
I was going to take this weekend off from blogging. I have two courses going on, final grades to turn in for a third, and three more starting up on Monday. (Yes, on the 4th
of July. It’s one of the drawbacks of working for a for-profit online institution. There are no scheduled holidays.) So I’ll have five classes by the time all is said and done. I’ve taught one of the three startups recently, I last taught another six months ago, and the third I’ve never taught at all. So I’ve got tons of prepping and grading to do this weekend.… Read the rest