The house is empty, and I decide to indulge myself: I am going to download music. That's right, I am going to redeem that $15 music card that I got for my birthday back in December.
First up: correct an embarrassing gap in my catalog by adding Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit. Oh, yeah, I am so hip. The music starts to play, and I start waving my arms around as if I am the Queen of the Mosh Pit. Oh, yeah, I am tearing it up here in my chair in front of this computer! I am one middle-aged woman who knows how to live! Those kids were just getting in my way - watch out world, here I come!
...to the medicine cabinet. Turns out what it really smells like is Bengay. Sigh. The heat wrap isn't working, looks like I'll have to haul out the back brace. If anybody asks, I hurt myself vacuuming under the sofa, okay?
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Warning Label
So Rosie is at Oberlin, and she is hosting her first prospective student, or "prospie." Apparently hosts are given a few rules, such as:
"Well," Rosie mused, "apparently some prospies come to visit wanting the whole college experience..."
Now, did they have to warn the hosts about those forbidden actions in the mode of stating the obvious, like the WARNING - FLAMMABLE notice that they put on gas cans? Or are these warnings in reaction to prior events, like the admonition on the label for the frozen pizza that says "be sure to remove the cardboard from the bottom of the pizza before placing in oven," since anyone could get distracted and forget that step, and in fact lots of people probably have forgotten that step, and by forgetting that step they have created a situation which would result in the smoke alarms going off and their children laughing at them and never, ever forgetting that one little mistake...
Where was I? Oh, right, I wonder if these warnings should have a name, like, say, the "Pete Campbell Subset of Rules," in honor of that one overly hospitable host student...
Anyway, Rosie says that right now her worst problem is that "everyone in Asia House seems to go poop right when I'm brushing my teeth!"
"Sweetie," I gagged, "get yourself a spit cup. Honestly, that's too disgusting to contemplate."
"No," Rosie said, "no spit cup. For now, I'll just suck it up."
I had to disconnect the Skype because I have too active an imagination. The best thing about not being in college is that in your house, in your bathroom, the only poop you have to smell is your own.
- Do not give drugs to your prospie (no matter how much they beg you)
- Do not have sex with your prospie (no matter how much they beg you)
- Do not have sex with someone else in close proximity to your prospie
"Well," Rosie mused, "apparently some prospies come to visit wanting the whole college experience..."
Now, did they have to warn the hosts about those forbidden actions in the mode of stating the obvious, like the WARNING - FLAMMABLE notice that they put on gas cans? Or are these warnings in reaction to prior events, like the admonition on the label for the frozen pizza that says "be sure to remove the cardboard from the bottom of the pizza before placing in oven," since anyone could get distracted and forget that step, and in fact lots of people probably have forgotten that step, and by forgetting that step they have created a situation which would result in the smoke alarms going off and their children laughing at them and never, ever forgetting that one little mistake...
Where was I? Oh, right, I wonder if these warnings should have a name, like, say, the "Pete Campbell Subset of Rules," in honor of that one overly hospitable host student...
Anyway, Rosie says that right now her worst problem is that "everyone in Asia House seems to go poop right when I'm brushing my teeth!"
"Sweetie," I gagged, "get yourself a spit cup. Honestly, that's too disgusting to contemplate."
"No," Rosie said, "no spit cup. For now, I'll just suck it up."
I had to disconnect the Skype because I have too active an imagination. The best thing about not being in college is that in your house, in your bathroom, the only poop you have to smell is your own.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I Love This Job!
Just got finished carefully picking my way across Ben's bedroom to kiss his fuzzy head. Of course, I discovered that he had sneaked milk and cookies into his room (against the rules) and there was absolutely no chance that he had brushed his teeth afterward.
But when I look at my sleeping boy all is forgiven, and when, as I kiss his head, he exhales with a sigh and seems to settle more deeply into slumber, I remember the same exact sound coming from him all of his life. His life, his normal naughtiness, a slumbrous sigh that bridges the years, all of that makes me feel so alive and happy. For now.
But when I look at my sleeping boy all is forgiven, and when, as I kiss his head, he exhales with a sigh and seems to settle more deeply into slumber, I remember the same exact sound coming from him all of his life. His life, his normal naughtiness, a slumbrous sigh that bridges the years, all of that makes me feel so alive and happy. For now.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Befuddled by Beowulf
So my 17-year-old son has struggled in school, but he honestly seemed to be making an effort so far this year. So when I logged on to his school website and discovered that he had gotten a zero on a Brit-Lit quiz, I thought that there must have been some mistake; perhaps the teacher lost his paper, or...
No such luck. "Well, Mom," Benjamin said, "I gotta say, I just don't get Beowulf."
Of course you don't, I thought, flashing back to a 12-year-old with his arms crossed defiantly over his chest while he exclaimed, "I don't like to read, I won't read, and you can't make me!"
He seemed like such an alien back then. "Hell's bells!" I thought at the time. "I can't make you? My mother couldn't stop me when I was your age!" I knew that his attitude would hurt him, and sure enough, it is. Dang it, it's not fun to be right when being right means that your children are suffering the consequences of their stupid and stubborn behavior. There is no such thing as schadenfreude when it comes to your kids.
Anyway, he is going to read something called Sparks notes before he actually reads the text, in the hopes of improving his comprehension. Heck, he has nowhere to go but up, right?
No such luck. "Well, Mom," Benjamin said, "I gotta say, I just don't get Beowulf."
Of course you don't, I thought, flashing back to a 12-year-old with his arms crossed defiantly over his chest while he exclaimed, "I don't like to read, I won't read, and you can't make me!"
He seemed like such an alien back then. "Hell's bells!" I thought at the time. "I can't make you? My mother couldn't stop me when I was your age!" I knew that his attitude would hurt him, and sure enough, it is. Dang it, it's not fun to be right when being right means that your children are suffering the consequences of their stupid and stubborn behavior. There is no such thing as schadenfreude when it comes to your kids.
Anyway, he is going to read something called Sparks notes before he actually reads the text, in the hopes of improving his comprehension. Heck, he has nowhere to go but up, right?
Monday, September 08, 2008
Getting A Life
I need to stop obsessing about this election. I feel like my anger about racial slurs, etc. have caused me to turn the steering wheel of my emotions so hard and far to the left that I am just circling around.
Sometimes it seems like I need someone to be angry at in order to motivate myself, but at this point I am too upset to concentrate on anything else. As of right now, I pledge to spend 24 hours without looking at any political news stories. I am going to turn off the NPR and turn on the MP3 player.
Right now I am going to surprise Rosie at school by downloading a few songs she wanted and shipping them off to her at Oberlin.
Sometimes it seems like I need someone to be angry at in order to motivate myself, but at this point I am too upset to concentrate on anything else. As of right now, I pledge to spend 24 hours without looking at any political news stories. I am going to turn off the NPR and turn on the MP3 player.
Right now I am going to surprise Rosie at school by downloading a few songs she wanted and shipping them off to her at Oberlin.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Something Stinks!
...and it's my son. He walked in tonight, stood in the middle of the living room floor, and grinned at me. I love him so much, and I was so happy that he had returned home safely, but my heart sank. He reeked of cigarettes. I mentioned it to him and his face fell, and the moment changed from happy quiet loving moment to the usual Mommy haranguing and son stalking off to his room.
I don't know what to do about it. Ben has just turned 17. His father and I are both smokers, and our GP says, "Monkey see, monkey do!" Very helpful. What is it with doctors and homilies? My sister the geriatrician has washed her hands of us all, saying, "I just figure you'll get sick and tired of being sick and tired."
It's so weird to be a parent knowing that your child is like you in bad ways as well as good ones. This whole smoking thing creates a farrago of emotions and uncertainty. Smoked Benjamin is a pretty bitter dish for his parents. If anyone has any useful ideas, let me know.
I don't know what to do about it. Ben has just turned 17. His father and I are both smokers, and our GP says, "Monkey see, monkey do!" Very helpful. What is it with doctors and homilies? My sister the geriatrician has washed her hands of us all, saying, "I just figure you'll get sick and tired of being sick and tired."
It's so weird to be a parent knowing that your child is like you in bad ways as well as good ones. This whole smoking thing creates a farrago of emotions and uncertainty. Smoked Benjamin is a pretty bitter dish for his parents. If anyone has any useful ideas, let me know.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Should A Mean Girl Like Sarah Palin Be Elected?
Honestly, when I listened to Sarah Palin's speech last night, all I could envision was her getting hit by a bus and ending up in a body brace. Apparently I wasn't the only one with that image in my head:
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2008/9/4/2545/78566/1012/585799
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2008/9/4/2545/78566/1012/585799
Here's my confession: I used to like John McCain, I much preferred him to Bush, eight years ago I didn't think it would be a disaster if he got elected. Now, every smart-but-unpopular-didn't-go-to-the-prom-girl cell in my body is on red alert. That Mean Girl's speech was energizing, all right. When I log off I am emailing the Obama campaign to see what I can do for them. I'll show her pit bull!
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