If we were having a glass of wine I would tell you…
That tomorrow is the “big” day. Bridget starts kindergarten. I would tell you that I spoke with both her SPED teacher and her kindergarten teacher. Both women are kind, generous with their time and willing to collaborate with me to make Bridget as safe as possible. I’m still scared as hell. I’m also hopeful that my friend, Dana, is right and in 3 months I will be telling you I was worried for no valid reason. Continue reading
At the beginning of the summer I finally came to a sense of peace that Kindergarten was going to be okay. Yes, we would be leaving the cocoon of safety we had for four years. My reservations were being replaced by cautious enthusiasm that Bridget would be starting kindergarten in a few weeks. Then it happened. I was smacked in the head (again) that this would not be the easy transition I hoped. Continue reading
Dear Tourist,
Thank you for visiting our little piece of sand.
You get a lot of flack coming here. You don’t know how to drive in the Rotary. You do not realize you are driving the wrong way up Main Street until you are faced with a Duck Boat ready to crush your Prius. You order your Sundae with sprinkles. We have to teach you how to pronounce Quahog and how properly eat a lobstah. Cape drivers honk at you when you stop to take in the view of the marsh.
You are blamed when we cannot even think of leaving the Cape on a Sunday or try to get back on a Friday. You are the reason we cannot go to Market Basket on our day off. There are some of you think Route 6a and the Service Road are a practice track for the Monte Carlo, barely missing joggers or bikers practicing for the PanMass Challenge.
We have all been there. You go to Back to School night and see the PTA table and quickly run past. Do not make eye contact you say to yourself. You don’t have time. You are not one of “them”. Those stay at home moms who cannot just let their kid go to school and be independent. You maybe go to one or two events a year. You may feel guilty enough to pay the $10 membership fee. You want to support the kids so you write the check grateful you got out easy.
I was once like you.
I feared the PTA. Continue reading
The divorce rate in America is estimated between 40-50% of all marriages. Of those marriages I imagine the majority are divorced parents. Divorce (I can only imagine) is hard. Parenting is difficult. Combined, I have no freaking idea how you process it all with grace and humor. But what happens when your spouse remarries?
Hopefully you are lucky to have them marry a woman like my friend Ashley. A woman who understands not only what it means to be an instamom but that a stepmom is more than being a parent.
I met Ashley at LTYM Boston this winter. Having a similar sense of humor we became fast friends. Ashley has the best job EVER creating Italian travel adventures with her company L’Esperta. I live vicariously through her blog. When I finally wear David down and convince him to travel to Italy I am making Ashley not only plan our trip but will make her go with us!
This summer I have taken more time off of work than I ever have in the past. I have taken more time to spend with my family. I have traveled and I have connected. I have also disconnected from my phone/e-mail/social crap. I have read more books this summer and watched less reality TV.
I’m freaking exhausted. Continue reading
Please note: this post is meant to be humorous and in no way is meant to be a statement in regards to my role on the School Committee. Read with caution and a sense of humor.
Dear School,
I am looking over the back to school list and well I do not want to sound miserly, but what the hell is up with needing a pairs of scissors every year? And not just any scissors but Fiskar scissors! By my calculations I have sent in six pairs of scissors. When I do the math: 18 children in each class equals 108 pairs of scissors. Every freaking year.
Where did they all go? Are they with the missing sock from my dryer?
Then there are the amount of pencils needed. I get it, you need pencils, tissues (Kleenex–not store brand), disinfecting wipes (not Clorox), crayons & markers (Crayola brand). It’s the amount of product you request that I wonder where are you putting it all? Do you have some huge storage lockers we don’t know about? For example (class size/number are my estimate):
48 pencils x 18 children x 10 classrooms = 8640 pencils
3 rolls of paper towels (for art?) x 18 children x 10 classrooms = 540 paper towels
1 hand sanitizer x 18 children x 10 classrooms = 180 bottles
2 boxes of Kleenex (not cheap store brand) x 18 children x 10 classrooms= 360 boxes of Kleenex
Where are you putting it all? Would it not make more sense to have one child each week bring in a box of Kleenex? How much could you possibly go through in a week? If there are 39 weeks of school that is an average of 9 boxes of Kleenex a week. Sadly I looked up the figure and there are 80-100 tissues in a box of Kleenex (you can Google anything!). That is 720 tissues in a week. Teach my child how to use a tissue more than one blow at a time.
And pencils? That is a staggering 221 pencils…PER WEEK. The students know that although there parents send them in sharpened you can resharpen them and reuse them, right?
Please tell my my child knows this fact. Otherwise I see another talk in her future when she explains to her father why she used 221 pencils in the first week of school.
It’s having to send in paper towels for art class. Why isn’t the art teacher allowed to have paper towels? Is he not to be trusted with the Brawny man?
I want to help the school system. I promise I do not mind sending in our own paper, notebooks and if we have to send in a pair of scissors every year so be it (though I still want to know where they go. It’s keeping me up at night). It’s the 360 boxes of Kleenex and 180 packages of disinfecting wipes (not Clorox–who did that brand piss off?) that must take up a lot of room in a classroom. I am sure the teachers would rather use their space for books and you know, learning materials rather than stockpiling for the invasion of the sneeze.
And if you must send home a list of needed items, don’t be picky. If I don’t buy Kleenex for my house I’m probably going to supply the classroom with whatever is on sale.
One last question. Is there enough room on the school bus for the children, their backpacks and supplies? If not I will start a neighborhood fundraiser for a UHaul.
Sincerely,
A mom who is up at night wondering where all the scissors went.
For anyone not paying attention: this post is meant to be humorous and in no way is meant to be a statement in regards to my role on the School Committee. I love our teachers and will gladly supply what they need. I would just rather send in a $25 gift card to Staples then shop.
When I joined the LTYM Boston cast I had no idea the breadth of stories that would be told. Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Divya. (Four Kleenex warning, but a must watch) I am honored that she is allowing me to share her piece.
I remember when I met Divya she said she “wasn’t a writer”. She is so much more than a writer, Divya gorgeous from her spirit outwards, a mom of two wonderful children, a postpartum depression advocate working diligently to make sure all women have the tools needed to triumph and (my hero) helped to create a state-funded perinatal program to help other new moms in need of support. Divya is co-founder of the Every Mother Project that provides much needed training and support to professionals to increase availability of care to women in perinatal crisis.
To learn more about her program please visit: The Every Mother Project
Thank you, Divya, for allowing me to share your piece.
In July I had the wonderful opportunity to meet Emily from Words I Wheel By. Recently she had a post, Finding My Role, that got me wondering: Do we ever figure out who we are supposed to be? I know I am not alone in thinking this is not where I thought I would end up in life.
The true question is more than just where you are now (or will be). More it is how do you define yourself? Emily believes it is an insecurity issue and I find myself agreeing when I think about my own roles and how they define me. Continue reading
Last summer ended with Bridget dancing on the beach. It was a hard fought victory for her to overcome her fear of the beach. A video I personally never tire of (sorry if you have!) watching:
Last year we never got her shoes off or for her to actually touch the sand on her own. The accomplishment was her walking on the beach (or dancing) or sitting in my lap as the waves rolled by us. Continue reading
(Un)Diagnosed and still okay 