Playground Uprising

May 30, 2007, 1:38 pm
Filed under: Children, Family, work


We have entered our third week of work. I am not sure why I say WE as is I have yet to see anyone in my car at 7:30 in the morning as I head up 95, and I imagine if I did I would have other things to consider, such as, grabbing my cell phone and calling 911, but nonetheless WE are on the path. And though I am alone on the road, upon arrival at work, my college students inspire me as they share their experiences in the public schools and talk about the types of teachers they hope to one day become, and my graduate students energize me with their worldly experiences and innovated ideas for the classroom. So I suppose the We works. I have also fallen, albeit like a reluctant child, somewhat into a schedule. If I am up by 5:15 I have time to shower and dress before little people get up at 5:45 to watch The Magic School Bus (a fancy ride indeed). Then, if I turn the dryer on when I roll out of bed the heat mirrors a broke down version of our nonexistent iron and keeps the family safely away from social service inquirers as I messily place their folded clothes into cluttered drawers. As the clock ticks on to 6:15 Mac and I are dressed and there is 70% likelihood that the little man has brushed his teeth, and at this time in our lives we will take those odds. About now Charlie has wakened and is busily watching what happens when he flails his plump trunks into the air and they catch gravity with a thud. He would happily stay in his crib for another half hour (because someone upstairs understands that the line between sanity and madness is almost undistinguishable in our home) but is more than willing to head downstairs for a little bottle and Matt Laur. As we arrive in the den, Greg is making a breakfast of cereal bars and fruit because the feast of frozen pancakes and waffles has gone uneaten one too many times and the tearing of prepackaged plastic helps to keep the lull. A purple lunch bag of Kashi GoLean bars, cheese sandwiches, and bananas is prepared, shoved, and ready for action and we are out the door and up 95 and not totally disappointed to be Alone for the next 50 minutes.


When I am 49
May 23, 2007, 12:39 pm
Filed under: Children, Family, vacation


We went to Sandbridge this past weekend to spend time with my aunt and uncle. They do not have children and therefore made the misguided assumption that inviting our family to spend several days at their beach house would somehow be relaxing. I remember relaxing when I was 27, BMCA (before mac came along), and plan to resume my life of leisure at the approximate age of 49 when I predict that Mac and Charlie will be engrossed in the world of higher education or paying penitence for bad decisions…. whatever the road may hold we have made it clear that it will not involve our couch. So upon arrival, my aunt and uncle invited us to settle in for an afternoon of naps and books which sounded spectacular if it wasn’t for the little person whizzing racecars around the coffee table while requesting his third breakfast bar of the morning and his screaming accomplice who is famished since it has been a whole 2 hours since his last feast. Understanding the importance of reinforcements in these situations, I called my partner in crime who brilliantly lives in Norfolk and she suggested we meet up at aquarium for some squid, shark, and teddy graham entertainment. Done! Following the wet outing, we headed home for a scrumptious dinner of shrimp which Mac refused to eat, protesting, “I do not eat creatures of the sea” (apparently slaughter houses are just fine as evident by his mass consumption of chicken nuggets) and instead opted for a delectable peanut butter sandwich with the crust cut off thank you. Following dinner, he spent the next part of the evening scrubbing the bench, which he cleverly left his insignia in earlier using his choice tool of a bread knife. That said, we did not think it strange as our aunt and uncle gave each other a high five as we slowly pulled out of the driveway the next morning with the car loaded down in pack and plays, toy soldiers, and breakfast bars.

Back in the Saddle
May 16, 2007, 1:34 pm
Filed under: Children, Family, work


This is my third day back at work and the black birds are not circling and I have seen no evidence of locust or plague (outside of last night’s dinner attempt) so I suppose that it is safe to say that the world has not come to an end despite my insistence of that inevitability. Charlie is hanging with Mac’s old babysitter awaiting June 4th when he can start his big boy school and Mac is busy cutting his friend’s shoelaces and inquiring why we celebrate Mothers and Fathers day but have not plans to break out the cupcakes for “Boy’s Day,” so I suggested he contact Hallmark because they are all about instituting new holidays, to which he responded, “I will let you call about that tomorrow mom.” I of course will get right on that as soon as I finish booking my tour around Italy. Next week will prove to be a wee bit challenging in that my three night classes begin and Greg is off to New York for several days for business which leads one to ask why my work takes me up 95 and his takes him to Broadway. An interesting thought to ponder. But not having family to baby-sit the boogaloos has inspired us to create a team of babysitters that have not criminal record (to our knowledge) and love our misfits as much as we do and for that we are blessed.

May 14, 2007, 7:42 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

And so I have packed up the daily yoga garb and brought back the kakis just in time to drop the plump rug rat off at school and experience the pangs of working mom guilt. But it is now 3:30, class is over, the students are a delight, and I am looking forward to using the fact that my tank is on empty (both literally and metaphorically) as an excuse to stop by the gas station for a big Coke Zero (a newly discovered guilty pleasure) and perhaps a chunk of chocolate as I head on my way to get Charlie Boy (as Mac calls him) and witness first hand what he has learned at school. Perhaps he has perfected his drooling, flopping, flailing, or general cuteness. The possibilities (for all of us) are endless.