Real Talk

Because of how our district is arranged, my three school-aged children attend three different schools. They each come home with folders packed with reminders. I call them "micro-aggressions." Each one represents some upcoming significant date, whether a field trip, free dress day, or even just a heads-up to expect a progress report soon. Honestly, I'm doing my best simply to match the correct slip of paper to the correct kid (help me out here, admin, and put the school names on the top of each paper, will ya?!) My husband and I carve out time every afternoon to do the homework routine. While the kids plug away at their assignments, we are busy checking the folders, signing the daily reports,...

Every August, my husband and I (we are both teachers) make our annual shopping trip to the mall for some school year clothing staples. The kids get their wardrobes updated each July, but we have to wait until our second August paycheck, after we spent the first one on the typical back-to-school demands: supplies, shoes, school fees, and uniforms.  We decided to divide and conquer. He took the boys with him to the men's department while I had the girls with me. I quickly grabbed pairs of pants, blouses, and dresses, each of various sizes, to haul into the fitting room with me because I had no idea what size I am. Always pressured for time, I squeezed in and...

Imagine this ... a dimly lit room, dozens of free movies to watch (and even more TV show options), two full meals delivered to you, and not a single child climbing on you. Sounds like Heaven, right? I got to experience that Heaven this past May on a 17 hour flight to Brisbane, Australia. It was glorious! While others might complain about being stuck in a metal tube for 2/3 of a day, I embraced it and enjoyed every minute of it! I caught up on all the new releases I didn't have time to watch (namely, Black Panther), and I didn't cook a single meal! Best of all, no one was demanding my attention, climbing on me, or yelling...

From the moment we found out we were pregnant with our first, my husband and I were elated! We couldn't wait to share our exciting news. I even remember complaining that I wasn't showing yet -- I wanted the world to know and share in our excitement. Nine months felt like an eternity. I was so ready! What I wasn't prepared for were all the Negative Nancies (and Normans) who would inundate us with ominous prophecies about what parenting would bring. It didn't matter how happy we were. It was as if they wanted to bring us back down to earth from the cloud we were floating on. And every statement seemed to begin the same way: "Just wait ... " When...

As I write this, I've got The Weather Channel on in the background watching all-too-familiar scenes of hurricane coverage. We know that the storm will pass and the recovery can last for years. The anticipation leading up to the storm is excellent attention-grabbing news. Shots of storm surge ushering damaging water into coastal homes, leaving destruction (and sand-filled living rooms) are fascinating. Watching the roof come off of a gas station is ... interesting. Watching the trees bend to the point of near breaking behind a kamikaze weather man from the comfort of my couch (this time) is ... entertaining(?). After the storm, the news coverage will taper off. The weather man and his full-body slicker have lived to fight...