In one of my earliest memories, mom lifts me out of an amp case. “Honey, you’re getting way too big for that.” I am probably a year and a half old.
I’m driven by music; I grew up vibrating in four-four time. I never believed in love, probably because I always imagined I’d fuck my life up by getting together with a musician. Instead I lucked into this academic who isn’t a big fan of concerts and guitars, who anchors me instead with the kind of harmony that doesn’t need sound.
He understands how I thrive on the other, though.
Last year on our anniversary, Scott stayed home with the kids so I could drive to Birmingham and see The Head and the Heart.… Read the rest
Fat raindrops smacked the windshield, and Scott turned on the wipers. Ahead, a church billboard warned us that the only true wisdom came from God. “We timed that perfectly.”
“And it was the most fun we’ve had as a family in ages.” I peeled my ball cap back and wiped the sweat off my face.
Caroline stopped playing Subway Surfers long enough to disagree. “Ugh. No it wasn’t. We nearly got hit by lightning.” Sam was entrenched in Frozen, or he would have seconded her opinion.
Scott and I exchanged a look. Pick your battles. We had measured that storm impeccably, even leaving ourselves time to pay for our blueberries and transfer them from the U-Pick buckets into gallon bags before the sky opened.… Read the rest
These are the signs of geekdom in my house. What signs do you see on a regular basis?
… Read the rest
“We’re looking for a parent for Caroline Merriman?” The woman calling me sounded professional and slightly worried.
“She fell and chipped her tooth.”
The kids were at Starbucks, not two hundred feet from where I was answering phones at the ballet. I send them on a regular basis, confident Caroline knows when to come get me if Sam breaks down and Sam knows I’ll throttle him if he does anything too outré. It gives them an outlet when my volunteerism has left them stuck waiting around after both their classes have ended.
I knew I’d get a call eventually.… Read the rest
Nobody enjoys going to movies with me. Not the other people in the theatre, not my friends, and certainly not my husband. OK, that last isn’t quite true. Scott doesn’t mind if I like a movie, and he hasn’t divorced me over the ones I’ve hated. This includes Whomever Jackson’s bastardization of The Two Towers
, which I ultimately walked out of in tears at about the midway point.
But seriously. If you want to be my friend, let’s don’t go see a film together. Because I’m that gal sitting dead center in the middle row who won’t shut up. If I like the story, I cackle at every punch line, shout encouragement to the main characters, and boo the bad guys.… Read the rest
“Caroline, help Lisa with her seatbelt.” I handed my daughter her classmate’s buckle.
Lisa said, “I got it,” in her nasal, robotic voice.
Caroline tilted her head and moved her mouth, but nothing came out. Her words had gone away again.
I climbed in up front and scanned the permission slip. “Crap, Scott which thing are we going to?”
Scott finished clicking in Sam. “Which what? Yogurt shop?”
“I thought you knew.”
“Well, I don’t, and the paperwork doesn’t say.”
“I’ll go in and ask.”
“The teachers are right there. Ask them.”
A minute later, with the right destination in hand, we started out of the lot.… Read the rest
We play a lot of Lego Star Wars in our house. I recently restarted the whole game in a new save slot in a vain attempt to have my OWN game. It was quickly taken over by the children, who are having fun getting back all of the extras that come with each level. The most important extras to have, for those of you who live under rocks, are the score multipliers. There’s a 2x, 4x, 6x, all the way up to 10x. I spent about a week getting the two million five hundred thousand studs (Lego coinage) needed to buy the doubler.… Read the rest
Gratuitous adorable child FTW
Jungle Jim’s marketing plan clearly involved overwhelming people into buying more. Cars from carnival rides held up displays, and florescent lights assaulted our vision. My nine year old niece, Kaylee, bellowed, “Look, Nanny! They have pummelos!” She put two oversized grapefruit into the cart that Scott was pushing.
Mom, who was walking a little ahead with my two kids, said, “Sure, honey,” after the fact. Even though she and Kay had been to the store several times since its opening back in September, she looked like a first time visitor. Every bright flash distracted her.
I asked, “What’s a pummelo?”
“It’s like a grapefruit, only sweeter.” Kaylee added one more.… Read the rest
My kids’ Christmas party was yesterday. It’s the first time I’ve been to their school since the Sandy Hook tragedy. In the lobby, one mother asked if the front desk could have a panic button installed, just in case. The secretary, whose son also attends the school, agreed it would be a good idea. I’m not typically given to worry about the grand scheme. You want small scale frets? I have them in plenty. Conspiracy theories? I’m your woman. But the big stuff doesn’t usually bother me.
My kids were with me on Friday, December 14. It was my birthday, and the opening night of the Nutcracker, in which they both performed.… Read the rest