My son and his friend, S, are apparently being bullied at school.
S's mother called me last night to discuss. We decided to tag team the teacher and the principal this morning to see what they were going to do about it. Nothing liking facing two angry momma bears first thing in the AM. I like both of them, and we had good conversations. Mr. H (the teacher) will address his class today, and Mrs. W (the principal) will be meeting with the involved parties as a group to try to weed out the situation. She said I can expect a call later today or tomorrow with information on what was discussed and how she is handling the situation.
Today is a busy day. Halloween party, riding lessons, 6th grade trip meeting. Oh, and it's the end of the month which is an important and busy time in my line of work. I have done well so far this morning - laundry is almost caught up, household chores done, dinner in the crock pot. I have been working steadily since I got home from my meeting at school, and am just taking this quick break to update the blog.
The art of mothering is to teach the art of living to children. ~ Elain Heffner
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Game 4
World Series game 4
Colorado.
8:00PM EST
Red Sox 4, Rockies 3!
RED SOX WIN THE 2007 WORLD SERIES, SWEEPING THE COLORADO ROCKIES IN 4 GAMES!
Colorado.
8:00PM EST
Red Sox 4, Rockies 3!
RED SOX WIN THE 2007 WORLD SERIES, SWEEPING THE COLORADO ROCKIES IN 4 GAMES!
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Damn Tooth Fairy
My son lost a tooth yesterday.
The tooth fairy didn't come last night.
I walked out of the bedroom this morning and the first thing I heard was "The tooth fairy forgot me!". Right behind him my daughter was standing with her hands on her hips glaring at me accusingly (she is in on the secrets of the adult world - since the Christmas before last) "Yeah...the tooth fairy FORGOT him." This is the girl who would sell her little brother to a band of gypsies for enough money to buy a pack of gum and a tube of lip gloss. But factor in the fact that Mom screwed up and she is on his side faster than you can say "therapy".
I stood there trying to figure out what to do or say and just as quick as she accused, it was my daughter who came to my rescue. "When he lost a tooth at Dad's house, the fairy came during the day." That's right....the tooth fairy also failed at dad's house (of course, at the time, I was thinking to myself "What parent forgets to play tooth fairy?". Heh. Karma, anyone?)
Later in the day, the tooth fairy made her delivery, complete with a note explaining that there was an emergency meeting with Santa (a la The Escape Claus), because the elves were threatening to strike and Santa needed help coming up with ideas to keep them happy. Luckily, they all came up with some fantastic ideas, and the elves are happy little campers once again. Christmas is saved! But the meeting put the Tooth Fairy WAY behind schedule.
I really think the Captain is on the verge of questioning Santa, the Tooth Fairy, etc. I so want it to last longer - the magic of childhood. One more Christmas of believing...one more tooth...one more Easter...I hope it's not asking too much.
Children still cannot tell the difference between fantasy and reality until about 8. That is why they believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and monsters under the bed. ~ Daphne White
The tooth fairy didn't come last night.
I walked out of the bedroom this morning and the first thing I heard was "The tooth fairy forgot me!". Right behind him my daughter was standing with her hands on her hips glaring at me accusingly (she is in on the secrets of the adult world - since the Christmas before last) "Yeah...the tooth fairy FORGOT him." This is the girl who would sell her little brother to a band of gypsies for enough money to buy a pack of gum and a tube of lip gloss. But factor in the fact that Mom screwed up and she is on his side faster than you can say "therapy".
I stood there trying to figure out what to do or say and just as quick as she accused, it was my daughter who came to my rescue. "When he lost a tooth at Dad's house, the fairy came during the day." That's right....the tooth fairy also failed at dad's house (of course, at the time, I was thinking to myself "What parent forgets to play tooth fairy?". Heh. Karma, anyone?)
Later in the day, the tooth fairy made her delivery, complete with a note explaining that there was an emergency meeting with Santa (a la The Escape Claus), because the elves were threatening to strike and Santa needed help coming up with ideas to keep them happy. Luckily, they all came up with some fantastic ideas, and the elves are happy little campers once again. Christmas is saved! But the meeting put the Tooth Fairy WAY behind schedule.
I really think the Captain is on the verge of questioning Santa, the Tooth Fairy, etc. I so want it to last longer - the magic of childhood. One more Christmas of believing...one more tooth...one more Easter...I hope it's not asking too much.
Children still cannot tell the difference between fantasy and reality until about 8. That is why they believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and monsters under the bed. ~ Daphne White
Game 3
World Series Game 3.
Colorado.
8:00PM EST.
Red Sox 10. Rockies 5.
Red Sox lead series 3 games to zero.
Colorado.
8:00PM EST.
Red Sox 10. Rockies 5.
Red Sox lead series 3 games to zero.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Mazes and hayrides and trips, oh my!
This evening we went to the Haunted Hayride sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce. The Postman's sister-in-law joined us since I was thinking that maybe the Captain would decide he did not want to go on the ride after all. With another adult, the Diva could still go on the hayride and the Captain and I could wait. He was brave though, and we all went on together.
It was a pretty good ride. It was made up of "scenes" sponsored by local businesses and individuals. Not too scary, just a wee bit frightening for the little ones. (Although the last scene, featuring clowns looking like "It" I could have done without!)
The highlight of the evening, however, was....*THE PORT*A*POTTY*MAZE*.
You read that correctly. One of the local businesses decided that making a port*a* potty maze was a pretty darn good idea. Only in Maine. Let me state right now that they were all unused - or at least clean! There must have been 100 or more all grouped into a maze pattern. It was not too easy to find our way out and after several minutes we were laughing hysterically at the idea that we were stuck in a maze of PORT*A*POTTIES.
As we were walking back toward our car, I was looking at something that my son was pointing at, not paying attention, and stepped right into a crack in the pavement. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground. Luckily, since it is chilly out tonight, I had on leather gloves so I did not scrape up my palms. I got up, laughed about it and kept walking. As we were getting in the car, my daughter whispered "Are you ok?" and I whispered back "Yeah - I'm just embarrassed!". I hope maybe it was a small lesson for her - that something embarrassing CAN happen, WILL happen, and it is survivable. She tends to get so easily upset when she is embarrassed by something she has done. As I sit here writing this my back and knees are achy so I will be taking some Advil before bed. Have I mentioned I am not the most graceful person to walk the earth?
All in all, a good day/evening. Tomorrow we are having our own little family World Series party complete with streamers (red and white), balloons (blue), hot dogs, nachos, a baseball cake, and Shirley Temples for the kids. (Not sure how Shirley Temples made the list of "Ballpark food" - but the kiddos associate them with special occasions and this definitely qualifies!).
Grace is gone ~ Dave Matthews
It was a pretty good ride. It was made up of "scenes" sponsored by local businesses and individuals. Not too scary, just a wee bit frightening for the little ones. (Although the last scene, featuring clowns looking like "It" I could have done without!)
The highlight of the evening, however, was....*THE PORT*A*POTTY*MAZE*.
You read that correctly. One of the local businesses decided that making a port*a* potty maze was a pretty darn good idea. Only in Maine. Let me state right now that they were all unused - or at least clean! There must have been 100 or more all grouped into a maze pattern. It was not too easy to find our way out and after several minutes we were laughing hysterically at the idea that we were stuck in a maze of PORT*A*POTTIES.
As we were walking back toward our car, I was looking at something that my son was pointing at, not paying attention, and stepped right into a crack in the pavement. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground. Luckily, since it is chilly out tonight, I had on leather gloves so I did not scrape up my palms. I got up, laughed about it and kept walking. As we were getting in the car, my daughter whispered "Are you ok?" and I whispered back "Yeah - I'm just embarrassed!". I hope maybe it was a small lesson for her - that something embarrassing CAN happen, WILL happen, and it is survivable. She tends to get so easily upset when she is embarrassed by something she has done. As I sit here writing this my back and knees are achy so I will be taking some Advil before bed. Have I mentioned I am not the most graceful person to walk the earth?
All in all, a good day/evening. Tomorrow we are having our own little family World Series party complete with streamers (red and white), balloons (blue), hot dogs, nachos, a baseball cake, and Shirley Temples for the kids. (Not sure how Shirley Temples made the list of "Ballpark food" - but the kiddos associate them with special occasions and this definitely qualifies!).
Grace is gone ~ Dave Matthews
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Whine or wine
The Diva stayed after school today. Nothing unusual in that. Her teacher stays every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to help students. It's basically an after school study hall. The Diva adores her teacher so she stays quite a bit, even though she doesn't require any extra help.
3:20 rolls around. The Postman is home already - it was a fairly good day for him. The Captain is going to get off the bus at 3:30 ish. I give Postman a kiss, ask him if he needs anything, and head out the door to get my daughter. 3:40-ish...we head up the road to our house...and no Postman's car in the drive. Hmmmmm, odd. We enter the house and find the cat house - which is usually on the counter (she lives on the counters due to the dogs) on the floor about 3 0r 4 feet from the counter. Again, odd. I call out. No answer. I call Postman's cell. Right to voice mail. I go next door to his parents house...they tell me my son got off the bus and is in the house. No, he's not. "Call T, he'll answer". No he won't - tried that. Back to the house. At this point my daughter is starting to hyperventilate, sure that something is wrong. I asked her to check her brother's room to see if his bookpack is there. She informs me it is and all his homework is all over the floor. The dogs are all accounted for and seem fine. I look in the spot where T keeps his keys and phone and his phone is still there.
Ok. By all accounts, it looks to me as if they have rushed out of there for some reason. I grab both phones and my keys and tell H to get in the car. We drive to the hospital (which is 1/3 mile from our house) and cruise the parking lot. As she's sobbing I am telling her she is not helping. As we pull out of the parking lot, headed to the animal clinic next - my cell rings. By the ring, I can tell it's coming from home. "Where the F*** are you?" is my greeting. I hear a laugh..."I just ran to the bank, hon". I hung up and said to H "I cannot talk to him right now".
So we head home and there they are...the two of them...standing in the driveway playing with their new R/C helicopter. Jackasses. We got out of the car and walked into the house without so much as a peep.
A few minutes later they walk in and T says "You can't possibly be mad at me for going to the bank!"
No. You're right. I CAN be mad at you for going to the bank and not leaving a note or calling my cell to let me know! H still hasn't talked to either of them.
So here is where I admit that I am a bit high strung at times. BUT...my kid and SO were missing and like I mentioned...by all accounts it appeared as though something was wrong.
I am on my second glass of wine.
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck
Update: The Postman has informed me that if anything were actually seriously wrong, he would have called me. He thinks this is the funniest thing that has happened in our house in a long time.
3:20 rolls around. The Postman is home already - it was a fairly good day for him. The Captain is going to get off the bus at 3:30 ish. I give Postman a kiss, ask him if he needs anything, and head out the door to get my daughter. 3:40-ish...we head up the road to our house...and no Postman's car in the drive. Hmmmmm, odd. We enter the house and find the cat house - which is usually on the counter (she lives on the counters due to the dogs) on the floor about 3 0r 4 feet from the counter. Again, odd. I call out. No answer. I call Postman's cell. Right to voice mail. I go next door to his parents house...they tell me my son got off the bus and is in the house. No, he's not. "Call T, he'll answer". No he won't - tried that. Back to the house. At this point my daughter is starting to hyperventilate, sure that something is wrong. I asked her to check her brother's room to see if his bookpack is there. She informs me it is and all his homework is all over the floor. The dogs are all accounted for and seem fine. I look in the spot where T keeps his keys and phone and his phone is still there.
Ok. By all accounts, it looks to me as if they have rushed out of there for some reason. I grab both phones and my keys and tell H to get in the car. We drive to the hospital (which is 1/3 mile from our house) and cruise the parking lot. As she's sobbing I am telling her she is not helping. As we pull out of the parking lot, headed to the animal clinic next - my cell rings. By the ring, I can tell it's coming from home. "Where the F*** are you?" is my greeting. I hear a laugh..."I just ran to the bank, hon". I hung up and said to H "I cannot talk to him right now".
So we head home and there they are...the two of them...standing in the driveway playing with their new R/C helicopter. Jackasses. We got out of the car and walked into the house without so much as a peep.
A few minutes later they walk in and T says "You can't possibly be mad at me for going to the bank!"
No. You're right. I CAN be mad at you for going to the bank and not leaving a note or calling my cell to let me know! H still hasn't talked to either of them.
So here is where I admit that I am a bit high strung at times. BUT...my kid and SO were missing and like I mentioned...by all accounts it appeared as though something was wrong.
I am on my second glass of wine.
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck
Update: The Postman has informed me that if anything were actually seriously wrong, he would have called me. He thinks this is the funniest thing that has happened in our house in a long time.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Sox vs. Rox
World Series Game #1.
Fenway.
8:00PM.
Sox 13, Rox 1. Beckett rocked and the Sox offense was en fuego!
Sox lead series 1-0
Fenway.
8:00PM.
Sox 13, Rox 1. Beckett rocked and the Sox offense was en fuego!
Sox lead series 1-0
$55 Muffins
Last night I attended a planning meeting for the 6th grade day trip that my daughter will go on in the spring. There were 11 parents/guardians in attendance - the same ones that attend all of the meetings and events.
Raising money for this trip is going to fall to the 11 parents at this meeting(and whoever is brave enough to attend future meetings), that was made clear from the get go. It is also up to the 11, to a point, to decide where the trip will be. We tossed around some ideas and came up with rough costs. At this point, one mother stated that she would rather just pay for the trip for her child outright. None of this fundraising business. Let me just state right now that I could not agree more. I do not need $55 worth of candles or wrapping paper or candy. Let me write my check for $55 and off my daughter goes on the trip. However. There are parents who can not make that same gesture. It's a fact. $55 (and that is the cost if we stay in Maine for the day - double that if we decide to venture out of state) will be a hardship for some families. How do we ensure those children attend this trip?
Cricket, cricket. Blink, blink.
"Well," the one mother finally responded "we can then do fundraisers for the kids who can't afford to pay." To which her friend sitting next to her replied "Yeah...like a bake sale! And we can charge $55 per muffin - I'll make them really big!"
While I understand this was an attempt at humor, I was outraged. Is it a joke that there are families in our community who will not be able to afford this trip for their children? Are we so smug in our own security that it makes it ok for us to laugh at others who are not?
My knee jerk reaction was to bid adieu to the parents in attendance and be on my way. I have learned though, that silence is acceptance. I will not be silent. I will attend, I will plan, I will make sure we have enough money for every child to go on the trip, whether their family can afford it or not. And I will do it with grace and tact and humor when appropriate.
Men show their characters in nothing more clearly than in what they think laughable. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Raising money for this trip is going to fall to the 11 parents at this meeting(and whoever is brave enough to attend future meetings), that was made clear from the get go. It is also up to the 11, to a point, to decide where the trip will be. We tossed around some ideas and came up with rough costs. At this point, one mother stated that she would rather just pay for the trip for her child outright. None of this fundraising business. Let me just state right now that I could not agree more. I do not need $55 worth of candles or wrapping paper or candy. Let me write my check for $55 and off my daughter goes on the trip. However. There are parents who can not make that same gesture. It's a fact. $55 (and that is the cost if we stay in Maine for the day - double that if we decide to venture out of state) will be a hardship for some families. How do we ensure those children attend this trip?
Cricket, cricket. Blink, blink.
"Well," the one mother finally responded "we can then do fundraisers for the kids who can't afford to pay." To which her friend sitting next to her replied "Yeah...like a bake sale! And we can charge $55 per muffin - I'll make them really big!"
While I understand this was an attempt at humor, I was outraged. Is it a joke that there are families in our community who will not be able to afford this trip for their children? Are we so smug in our own security that it makes it ok for us to laugh at others who are not?
My knee jerk reaction was to bid adieu to the parents in attendance and be on my way. I have learned though, that silence is acceptance. I will not be silent. I will attend, I will plan, I will make sure we have enough money for every child to go on the trip, whether their family can afford it or not. And I will do it with grace and tact and humor when appropriate.
Men show their characters in nothing more clearly than in what they think laughable. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Again
I'm back. Again.
This blogging thing weighs on me at times - I know, all 11 posts I've made so far. I really do want to keep up with it. Almost daily I think "I could blog about this!". Yet another part of me thinks....well, why would anyone care what I have to say? But as I read back over the very few posts I've made, I smiled at some of the things I wrote. Much like reading over an old journals (which I don't keep either). I love the art of writing, even if I don't do it well. So here we go again.
I sit here today, right now, fully coiffed and made up. Generally this is not the case. I work from home and consider it a victory to be showered and in fresh clothing before the rest of the family arrives home in the afternoon. Those fresh clothes might be sweats or even the jammies I plan to wear to bed that night. I see no point in getting all made up and doing my hair. I know some of you might make the argument that I should try a little harder for the Postman. He might like to see me all gussied up when he gets home at the end of the day. I say that the Postman has seen me at my very worst. The Postman also loves me for reasons that are way more important than blush, eyeliner and hairspray. I sit here today made up for my daughter.
Yesterday I was in the middle of cleaning when the phone rang. It was the Diva asking me to bring her some Advil. She had a headache - and her school does not allow them to carry medications, much less self medicate. I was a mess. I told her I would finish up as fast as I could, hop in the shower and be there before her lunch period ended. I did exactly that. I walked in to the lunchroom with 5 minutes to spare and wet hair. She was mortified. I was hurt that she was mortified. How could she not realize the choice I made to skip drying my hair so that I could get the Advil to her quicker? But I know the answer. She's 11. It matters what her friends think. I remember. Do I agree?....well of course not. I'm 38 now. I have learned what is really important. But I still remember what it was like to be 11.
She is bringing a friend home with her on the bus today. So my hair is dried and sprayed, my cheeks are rosy and my lashes are fuller and thicker. There are also brownies in the oven. June Cleaver lives.
Setting a good example for children takes all the fun out of middle age. ~ William Feather
This blogging thing weighs on me at times - I know, all 11 posts I've made so far. I really do want to keep up with it. Almost daily I think "I could blog about this!". Yet another part of me thinks....well, why would anyone care what I have to say? But as I read back over the very few posts I've made, I smiled at some of the things I wrote. Much like reading over an old journals (which I don't keep either). I love the art of writing, even if I don't do it well. So here we go again.
I sit here today, right now, fully coiffed and made up. Generally this is not the case. I work from home and consider it a victory to be showered and in fresh clothing before the rest of the family arrives home in the afternoon. Those fresh clothes might be sweats or even the jammies I plan to wear to bed that night. I see no point in getting all made up and doing my hair. I know some of you might make the argument that I should try a little harder for the Postman. He might like to see me all gussied up when he gets home at the end of the day. I say that the Postman has seen me at my very worst. The Postman also loves me for reasons that are way more important than blush, eyeliner and hairspray. I sit here today made up for my daughter.
Yesterday I was in the middle of cleaning when the phone rang. It was the Diva asking me to bring her some Advil. She had a headache - and her school does not allow them to carry medications, much less self medicate. I was a mess. I told her I would finish up as fast as I could, hop in the shower and be there before her lunch period ended. I did exactly that. I walked in to the lunchroom with 5 minutes to spare and wet hair. She was mortified. I was hurt that she was mortified. How could she not realize the choice I made to skip drying my hair so that I could get the Advil to her quicker? But I know the answer. She's 11. It matters what her friends think. I remember. Do I agree?....well of course not. I'm 38 now. I have learned what is really important. But I still remember what it was like to be 11.
She is bringing a friend home with her on the bus today. So my hair is dried and sprayed, my cheeks are rosy and my lashes are fuller and thicker. There are also brownies in the oven. June Cleaver lives.
Setting a good example for children takes all the fun out of middle age. ~ William Feather
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Another year
I am another year older. It actually happened a few days ago. I don't know how I feel about getting older. I say the number in my head and it seems unbelieveable. I still feel 21...maybe 25. I still love the tattoos I got when I was younger and I still consider things like belly piercings. My daughter would probably be mortified if she knew I was considering getting my belly button pierced.
The Red Sox had their opening day at Fenway yesterday. I love when they win their home opener.
There is still, unbelievably, snow on the ground. And, another storm is predicted for tomorrow promising another 6 inches. It is mid-April, enough already!
This time of year is always difficult for me, although it usually gets easier after my birthday passes. I think the weather we are having is causing my blues to continue. The Postman and I are going away for a few days next week while the kids are with their dad. Maybe that will help bring me out of my funk.
That's all for now.
I'm going home, to the place where I belong. Where your love has always been enough for me. ~ Daughtry
The Red Sox had their opening day at Fenway yesterday. I love when they win their home opener.
There is still, unbelievably, snow on the ground. And, another storm is predicted for tomorrow promising another 6 inches. It is mid-April, enough already!
This time of year is always difficult for me, although it usually gets easier after my birthday passes. I think the weather we are having is causing my blues to continue. The Postman and I are going away for a few days next week while the kids are with their dad. Maybe that will help bring me out of my funk.
That's all for now.
I'm going home, to the place where I belong. Where your love has always been enough for me. ~ Daughtry
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
20 years
I recently received information regarding my twenty year high school reunion.
I'm not sure if I will go or not. Although I stay in touch with a few friends from my childhood and youth, I'm not sure I want to revisit that period in my life - albeit 20 years later. Teenage angst can be brutal, particularly if there are other issues in play. I was insecure, foolish, hyper, and loud. I begged for attention and usually got it in all the wrong places. Wisdom has come with age, and my fair share of therapy. I would love the chance to see some of my "friends" from that time - see how they have changed and show them how I have. Yet I don't trust that any of them have changed enough to see the change in me. Therein lies the rub.
It also somewhat irritates me that I even care what they think of me all these years later. I think that implies that I am not over the insecurities that I have tried so hard to overcome. When the Postman saw the envelope in the mail, he said "We're busy that day!" without even knowing the date.
Perhaps he's right.
There's a big world out there. Bigger than prom, bigger than high school, and it won't matter if you were the prom queen or quarterback of the football team, or the biggest nerd. Find out who you are and try not to be afraid of it. ~ Anonymous
I'm not sure if I will go or not. Although I stay in touch with a few friends from my childhood and youth, I'm not sure I want to revisit that period in my life - albeit 20 years later. Teenage angst can be brutal, particularly if there are other issues in play. I was insecure, foolish, hyper, and loud. I begged for attention and usually got it in all the wrong places. Wisdom has come with age, and my fair share of therapy. I would love the chance to see some of my "friends" from that time - see how they have changed and show them how I have. Yet I don't trust that any of them have changed enough to see the change in me. Therein lies the rub.
It also somewhat irritates me that I even care what they think of me all these years later. I think that implies that I am not over the insecurities that I have tried so hard to overcome. When the Postman saw the envelope in the mail, he said "We're busy that day!" without even knowing the date.
Perhaps he's right.
There's a big world out there. Bigger than prom, bigger than high school, and it won't matter if you were the prom queen or quarterback of the football team, or the biggest nerd. Find out who you are and try not to be afraid of it. ~ Anonymous
Saturday, February 03, 2007
What's Agway?
We got about 5 inches of snowfall last night...but that didn't deter us from being at the (outdoor) rink at 9:00am for hockey. The fact that it snowed means the air was probably warmer than it was on Wednesday night, but there was quite a wind this morning. AND, I got stuck in the unplowed parking lot at the rink. Yay me.
Since hockey runs for an hour and a half on Saturday, I told my son I would be leaving for a few minutes to do an errand. I asked my daughter if she wanted to go with me to Agway. "What's Agway?" she asked. "The feed store." (among other things), I responded. She agreed to go and off we went.
As we drove, however, I thought about her question. A year ago we lived in a relatively urban area. About an hour from Boston, and 45 minutes from Portland. Almost anything we needed was just a few minutes drive into New Hampshire. Barnes and Noble was a mere 8 minutes from our house. Now the closest B and N is about 1/2 hour away. We now do alot of browsing and buying online. Even so, with everything available to us before, there is so much we aren't familiar with.
Today I learned more about hockey. I learned why the blades need sharpening, I learned about sock garters, and I learned that I don't get his skates tied tight enough. Hmmmm...the first two I can work with and I know what to do and what we need. The last one? All I can say is the Postman might need to be in charge of tying skates from now on!
Education is the movement from darkness to light. ~ Allan Bloom
Since hockey runs for an hour and a half on Saturday, I told my son I would be leaving for a few minutes to do an errand. I asked my daughter if she wanted to go with me to Agway. "What's Agway?" she asked. "The feed store." (among other things), I responded. She agreed to go and off we went.
As we drove, however, I thought about her question. A year ago we lived in a relatively urban area. About an hour from Boston, and 45 minutes from Portland. Almost anything we needed was just a few minutes drive into New Hampshire. Barnes and Noble was a mere 8 minutes from our house. Now the closest B and N is about 1/2 hour away. We now do alot of browsing and buying online. Even so, with everything available to us before, there is so much we aren't familiar with.
Today I learned more about hockey. I learned why the blades need sharpening, I learned about sock garters, and I learned that I don't get his skates tied tight enough. Hmmmm...the first two I can work with and I know what to do and what we need. The last one? All I can say is the Postman might need to be in charge of tying skates from now on!
Education is the movement from darkness to light. ~ Allan Bloom
Friday, February 02, 2007
$75,000 per minute
That's the profit Exxon Mobil Corp made every minute of 2006. Profit. While consumers are rejoicing when gas prices fall below $2.00 per gallon, some executives at Exxon Mobil Corp. can expect their bonuses to exceed 5 millon dollars. Read that again. Their bonuses. That is in addition to their yearly salaries. When is enough too much?
Capitalism is founded on greed and envy ~ Charles Long
Capitalism is founded on greed and envy ~ Charles Long
Thursday, February 01, 2007
February 1st
Normally this is a tough time of year for me. I find the months after Christmas to be dark, cold, and depressing. They then lead right into the period before my birthday which, for reasons I do not wish to discuss yet, I despise. It has nothing to do with getting older - although that's the premise I hide behind. I think probably only one person knows the true reason.
Anyway.
I am so easily irritated these days. The Diva is in full Diva mode. She honestly has no idea that there are 3 other people living in this house and that the world does not revolve simply around her and her desires. I was discussing the situation with the Postman last night, wondering when that all might change and he replied "Not until she's about thirty." God help me.
Beyond these four walls, it seems the world has gone mad. Or madder. The big news of the week: Tyra has gained weight. Seriously? There are so many problems with making that the issue of the week. There is a war going on in Iraq. There are peace rallies taking place in Washington. But Tyra gained some weight folks. Don't get me wrong: I am beyond pleased that she is fighting back. It's high time someone like her stood up and said "It's ok!" But...I still can't fathom that's what made big headlines this week. Is it because we have become so numb to everything else that's going on that we needed a diversion such as this? Side note: If I looked like Tyra does, I would be thrilled! She looks fabulous. And she's intelligent to boot.
It's time to get moving. Volunteering at school today and running errands after that. It's a balmy 8 degrees F this morning so it shouldn't be too bad.
This is a youth-oriented society, and the joke is on them because youth is a disease from which we all recover.—Dorothy Fuldheim
Anyway.
I am so easily irritated these days. The Diva is in full Diva mode. She honestly has no idea that there are 3 other people living in this house and that the world does not revolve simply around her and her desires. I was discussing the situation with the Postman last night, wondering when that all might change and he replied "Not until she's about thirty." God help me.
Beyond these four walls, it seems the world has gone mad. Or madder. The big news of the week: Tyra has gained weight. Seriously? There are so many problems with making that the issue of the week. There is a war going on in Iraq. There are peace rallies taking place in Washington. But Tyra gained some weight folks. Don't get me wrong: I am beyond pleased that she is fighting back. It's high time someone like her stood up and said "It's ok!" But...I still can't fathom that's what made big headlines this week. Is it because we have become so numb to everything else that's going on that we needed a diversion such as this? Side note: If I looked like Tyra does, I would be thrilled! She looks fabulous. And she's intelligent to boot.
It's time to get moving. Volunteering at school today and running errands after that. It's a balmy 8 degrees F this morning so it shouldn't be too bad.
This is a youth-oriented society, and the joke is on them because youth is a disease from which we all recover.—Dorothy Fuldheim
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
-8.6 F
That was the temperature this fine morning when the Captain and the Diva went out for the bus. Welcome to January in Maine. No one should really complain about the cold - thus far it has been a fairly mild winter. So mild, in fact, that the first night of rec hockey was last night. The outdoor rink was not able to freeze properly until now due to the mild weather.
I am so not cut out to be a hockey mom. With my luck, this is the sport that will become the Captain's passion and we will be out there every day, every winter, from now until he goes to college. Even the high school varsity team uses that rink to practice on, so there is no reprieve in sight. The Captain seemed to love it and enjoy himself...so it may be in my best interest to stock up on thermal underwear and wool socks. I also have a lot to learn as I have never been a great follower of ice hockey. Luckily for me, I got my hands on the "Parent's Introduction to Youth Hockey" pamphlet from a rack in the dressing room.
The captain did very well - surprisingly well - during this first attempt at hockey. Although he was on his butt alot, he was also on his feet alot and was even able to handle the puck when it came his way.
Tomorrow night the Diva will go to her first figure skating lesson. I hope her results are as good as the Captain's. She gets very, very annoyed when her little brother does something better or quicker than she does. I didn't realize just how annoyed until very recently when she had to come up with a list of writing prompts. The subject was something along the lines of "Ten worst moments in your life". Number one on her list was "My brother learned how to ride a two wheel bike before I did."
Two days left in the month. I should be working, not blogging. Unfortunately, all the turmoil in the office lately has taken it's toll mentally and I just can't muster up the motivation I need to stay focused. That's from someone who works from home - I can't even imagine what life in the office must be like right now.
Hockey is a tough game. ~ Bobby Orr
I am so not cut out to be a hockey mom. With my luck, this is the sport that will become the Captain's passion and we will be out there every day, every winter, from now until he goes to college. Even the high school varsity team uses that rink to practice on, so there is no reprieve in sight. The Captain seemed to love it and enjoy himself...so it may be in my best interest to stock up on thermal underwear and wool socks. I also have a lot to learn as I have never been a great follower of ice hockey. Luckily for me, I got my hands on the "Parent's Introduction to Youth Hockey" pamphlet from a rack in the dressing room.
The captain did very well - surprisingly well - during this first attempt at hockey. Although he was on his butt alot, he was also on his feet alot and was even able to handle the puck when it came his way.
Tomorrow night the Diva will go to her first figure skating lesson. I hope her results are as good as the Captain's. She gets very, very annoyed when her little brother does something better or quicker than she does. I didn't realize just how annoyed until very recently when she had to come up with a list of writing prompts. The subject was something along the lines of "Ten worst moments in your life". Number one on her list was "My brother learned how to ride a two wheel bike before I did."
Two days left in the month. I should be working, not blogging. Unfortunately, all the turmoil in the office lately has taken it's toll mentally and I just can't muster up the motivation I need to stay focused. That's from someone who works from home - I can't even imagine what life in the office must be like right now.
Hockey is a tough game. ~ Bobby Orr
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
iStJ
Introverted
Sensing
Thinking
Judging
iStJs are often called inspectors. They have a keen sense of right and wrong, especially in their area of interest and/or responsibility. They are noted for devotion to duty. Punctuation is a watchword of the iStJ. The person by whom others set their clocks is likely to be an iStJ.
They are easily frustrated by the inconsistencies of others, especially when the second parties don't keep their commitments. But they usually keep their feelings to themselves unless they are asked. And when asked, they don't mince words. Truth wins out over tact.
Famous iStJs:
George Washington
Andrew Johnson
Benjamin Harrison
Herbert Hoover
George H. W. Bush
Evander Holyfield
Fictional iStJs:
Joe Friday
Eeyore
Cliff (the Postman on Cheers)
It's a good day when I am likened to Geroge Washington, Evander Holyfield, and Eeyore all in the same personality test.
"A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference. Or so the say." said Eeyore
Sensing
Thinking
Judging
iStJs are often called inspectors. They have a keen sense of right and wrong, especially in their area of interest and/or responsibility. They are noted for devotion to duty. Punctuation is a watchword of the iStJ. The person by whom others set their clocks is likely to be an iStJ.
They are easily frustrated by the inconsistencies of others, especially when the second parties don't keep their commitments. But they usually keep their feelings to themselves unless they are asked. And when asked, they don't mince words. Truth wins out over tact.
Famous iStJs:
George Washington
Andrew Johnson
Benjamin Harrison
Herbert Hoover
George H. W. Bush
Evander Holyfield
Fictional iStJs:
Joe Friday
Eeyore
Cliff (the Postman on Cheers)
It's a good day when I am likened to Geroge Washington, Evander Holyfield, and Eeyore all in the same personality test.
"A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference. Or so the say." said Eeyore
Friday, January 19, 2007
Snowday
Well here we are...again. The snow has forced the cancellation of school today. First time this school year - not bad considering it's January 19th.
It's January now...I kept up with the blog, for what? 7 whole posts spanning a week or two? Let's try this again.
I often feel like there is so much I have to say, but not the appropriate forum. I guess I still struggle with that the most in relation to blogging. Do I really want all of it out there in cyberspace for anyone to read and comment on?
What has happened since my last blog? School started. My work at home status became permament. The Red Sox did not make the playoffs. The Patriots did - so far. The Democrats took over. The holidays came and went. My children swam with dolphins in Florida. Each day we have settled in more and more in our new lives.
So here we go...another try.
It's January now...I kept up with the blog, for what? 7 whole posts spanning a week or two? Let's try this again.
I often feel like there is so much I have to say, but not the appropriate forum. I guess I still struggle with that the most in relation to blogging. Do I really want all of it out there in cyberspace for anyone to read and comment on?
What has happened since my last blog? School started. My work at home status became permament. The Red Sox did not make the playoffs. The Patriots did - so far. The Democrats took over. The holidays came and went. My children swam with dolphins in Florida. Each day we have settled in more and more in our new lives.
So here we go...another try.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Starstruck
The Postman and I took the Captain and the Diva to a Red Sox game last week. Not just any Red Sox game; it was against the Yankees. Baseball's longest standing, fiercest rivalry. We are a Red Sox family, through and through. We have the jerseys that say "I support two teams...the Red Sox and whoever beats the Yankees." I refer to Bucky Dent as "Bucky f***ing Dent". I rarely utter the name Buckner.
So we left Maine in the wee hours of the morning to make the trek to Revere to ride the T into the city. I in my Tek jersey, the Captain in his Tek t-shirt, the Diva in her Papi shirt, and the Postman in a Sox t-shirt with no allegiance to any specific player (he's a Mirabelli fan....sigh). We arrived at Fenway and were happily making our way to our seats. As we walked through the concourse, I passed Bobby Abreau. (Side note: I don't have a specific dislike for BA...he was just recently traded to the Yanks and hasn't had time to truly piss me off. Plus, he was the Homerun Derby champ last year. So it was a tad exciting to see him strolling through the crowd.) I yelled to the Postman who was a few steps ahead of me and the Captain. The Postman turned to look but didn't see him. He might even have questioned whether it really was Bobby Abreau or not. Until...he turned back around to keep walking then turned back to say "Here comes Jorge Posada." (Side note # 2: I dislike George more than any other Yankee player. Nothing personal. Maybe because he's a catcher and so is Tek...I dunno. A-Rod is a close second on my dislike list what with getting all up in Tek's face.) However, upon hearing the news that Jorge was heading toward us, I leaned down close to my son's ear, told him who Jorge was, and pointed him out. To his credit, Jorge gave my son a little nod when he saw us looking at him. I straightened up to continue on our way...and was literally smack dab in front of Derek Jeter. About a foot away. "Oh my God, it's Derek Jeter!" was the most intelligent thing I came up with to say. He gave a slight smirk and kept walking. I'm sure his thought was "Stupid, hick Red Sox fans." Needless to say...the Postman has not let me forget about my excitement over seeing three Yankees players up close. I try to pass it of as regard for their status as athletes regardless of what team they play for, but that has not cut it with him. In his book, I am now a Derek Jeter fan. So I had to boo extra loudly every time he was anounced during the game...hehehe.
So we left Maine in the wee hours of the morning to make the trek to Revere to ride the T into the city. I in my Tek jersey, the Captain in his Tek t-shirt, the Diva in her Papi shirt, and the Postman in a Sox t-shirt with no allegiance to any specific player (he's a Mirabelli fan....sigh). We arrived at Fenway and were happily making our way to our seats. As we walked through the concourse, I passed Bobby Abreau. (Side note: I don't have a specific dislike for BA...he was just recently traded to the Yanks and hasn't had time to truly piss me off. Plus, he was the Homerun Derby champ last year. So it was a tad exciting to see him strolling through the crowd.) I yelled to the Postman who was a few steps ahead of me and the Captain. The Postman turned to look but didn't see him. He might even have questioned whether it really was Bobby Abreau or not. Until...he turned back around to keep walking then turned back to say "Here comes Jorge Posada." (Side note # 2: I dislike George more than any other Yankee player. Nothing personal. Maybe because he's a catcher and so is Tek...I dunno. A-Rod is a close second on my dislike list what with getting all up in Tek's face.) However, upon hearing the news that Jorge was heading toward us, I leaned down close to my son's ear, told him who Jorge was, and pointed him out. To his credit, Jorge gave my son a little nod when he saw us looking at him. I straightened up to continue on our way...and was literally smack dab in front of Derek Jeter. About a foot away. "Oh my God, it's Derek Jeter!" was the most intelligent thing I came up with to say. He gave a slight smirk and kept walking. I'm sure his thought was "Stupid, hick Red Sox fans." Needless to say...the Postman has not let me forget about my excitement over seeing three Yankees players up close. I try to pass it of as regard for their status as athletes regardless of what team they play for, but that has not cut it with him. In his book, I am now a Derek Jeter fan. So I had to boo extra loudly every time he was anounced during the game...hehehe.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
State of the Nation
Red Sox nation, that is.
http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/news/article.jsp?ymd=20060801&content_id=1587773&vkey=news_bos&fext=.jsp&c_id=bos
Ok...so I'm not gonna lie. He is easy on the eyes. But beyond that...there is no catcher better prepared for a game, no catcher that can gear up the pitching staff like he can. Admittedly, I am one of those rabid Sox fans. Even more than that, I am a rabid Tek fan. Have been since the beginning; I'm not one of those female bandwagoners that just jumped on a few years ago when he started to make a name for himself in Boston, so don't even go there with me. And this RSF cannot fathom the Sox making it into the post season with Tek being out for the next 4 to 6 weeks. I hope I am overreacting. I am apt to do that at times. Just ask the Postman.
"I think there are only three things America will be known for 2,000 years from now when they study this civilization: the Constitution, jazz music, and baseball." ~ Gerald Early
http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/news/article.jsp?ymd=20060801&content_id=1587773&vkey=news_bos&fext=.jsp&c_id=bos
Ok...so I'm not gonna lie. He is easy on the eyes. But beyond that...there is no catcher better prepared for a game, no catcher that can gear up the pitching staff like he can. Admittedly, I am one of those rabid Sox fans. Even more than that, I am a rabid Tek fan. Have been since the beginning; I'm not one of those female bandwagoners that just jumped on a few years ago when he started to make a name for himself in Boston, so don't even go there with me. And this RSF cannot fathom the Sox making it into the post season with Tek being out for the next 4 to 6 weeks. I hope I am overreacting. I am apt to do that at times. Just ask the Postman.
"I think there are only three things America will be known for 2,000 years from now when they study this civilization: the Constitution, jazz music, and baseball." ~ Gerald Early
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