Archive by Author

Oh, I know, all I owe, I owe Prednisone

3 Jul

You know when you get a song stuck in your head and you can’t get it out? Of course you do. What a mundane topic, right? Well, have you ever had it happen with a word? Of course you have. What am I thinking? It happened to me last night. Urg.

And what was the Vocabulary Ear Worm parasitically trapped in my mind during my Prednisone-induced non-sleep (I have a rash)?

Appropriate, given the impending incediarily celebrated birthday of our Nation, don’t you think?

As I was laying there riding my imaginary 10-speed across the Grand Canyon and running my Olympic Sprint Marathon I got to thinking about other such words that have layed claim to my sanity. I remember very distinctly an invasion of the word “secretary” when I was a wee 9 or 10 year old. I will briefly explain what I did at that time to cope with said invasion.

I went out to our swing set with our 20-odd cats and sang songs to them using the sole lyric “secretary”. Let me give you an example:

(To the tune of “The Sound of Music” from, well, The Sound of Music) Secre-tary! Secretary secra-. Tary secreta-ry, secreta-a-RY! (And so on.)

Here’s another:

(To the tune of “All I Owe Ioway” from State Fair) Secreta-ry-y. Sec-re-eh-ta-a-ry. Secretary secretary secreTA! (And so on.)

At this point I have to wonder what predictions my parents were making of my future. Probably that at some point in my life I would be laying in bed hand-cultivating corn fields while I repeated the word “incendiary”. They were spot on.

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So I Think I Might Cry cry cry cry

27 Jun

Can I share with you a secret? My family and I have an antiquated dependency issue. Familiar? Ours is to do with technology and today it’s causing me just a wee bit of frustration. The issue? Our VCR is exhibiting wonky behavior. AND TONIGHT IS SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE!!!!! I know I’ve discussed previously our obsession with this particular Reality Gem. It’s back for the summer and this is the time our precious Video Cassette Recorder chooses to act up!?!??!? Verily Causing an upRoar it is! And here’s the deal – episodes don’t stream to the net until 30 days following their original air date! WHAT IS THAT ABOUT!?!??! The angst is immeasurable at this point and so I’m asking for words of solace. Empathize anyone?

THAT offending button is offending me!

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Glory of…..

11 Jun

The other day we were cruisin’ in the mini(van), jammin’ to A.J.’s top rated tunes and this melodic pearl sprang forth through the speakers in an insta-memory. Do you know what I mean by “insta-memory”? When some environmental happening thwacks you in the face with past sensations, emotions, and all that? Sure you do. ALSO, it being the week prior to Father’s Day I found this little insta-memory especially relevant. I love it when things work out like that.

Did you click on the link? Did you bathe yourself in the creamy sound of Peter Cetera’s power ballad? Go do it now, it’s worth it. Karate Kid II, right? Good stuff. Well, when I took my cream bath(what?) I was immediately ripped from my captain’s chair straight to the local (and by”local” I mean an hour down the road)roller skating rink. We were there for a church youth get-together. Except I wasn’t a youth. I mean, I WAS, but not officially. I was too youthful to be a youth. And my plight as a too-youthful non-youth was that I didn’t have a group of friends with whom I could flail down the rink. My parents were chaperones. My sister was a genuine youth. I was an 11th wheel (’cause that’s what it would be on a roller skate, right?). It wasn’t too bad being me, because I was always super good at butting my innocent face into Christina’s circle of friends. They didn’t mind because of my sparkling personality……

But then came couples skate. Lights were dimmed. Boys scattered to the snack stand like roaches to, well, a snack stand. Giggly Youth Girls grabbed the paw of their besty. The ivoried intro of Glory of Love sailed through speakers and crushed me. Yes, crushed me to thousands of youthful, Karate Kid II obsessed particles. My favorite song and not a soul with whom to skate.

I was leaning on the rink, watching the joy of Youth, fighting the blister of tears when my dad sought me, and grabbed my pitiful little hand. Together we clanked our wheels around that rink. Dad said silly things. I pretended that I hadn’t been crying. I shared insight into the plot intricacies of the Karate Kids. Dad pretended to be interested.

THAT’S good stuff. 20120611-141705.jpg_____________________________________________________________________________

It’s time to do the floors.

6 Jun

Hey guys. Remember me? Honestly, I barely do myself. Fear not, however. I’m back to prove my existence. I’m real. I’m here. I’m a person. I like to write drivel. Or I like to drivel. Which is it? Am I driveling? Let me get out a mop….

I’m back. My family is once again a slobbery summer unit of sprinkler running, lazy trips to Target, PB&Js, and PJ Days. I feel complete. And entering in to my completeness? You. If YOU’RE still there. Are you??? Hello???????

I’m getting my drivel-chops out again, friends. That’s a thing. Drivel-chops.

And ZOO trips! I forgot to mention ZOO TRIPS!

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Acting Our Age – Part II

17 Apr

We need to continue with our “Christina and Stacy: Bloggers” history lesson. Remember a few weeks ago when my sister published this, the first installment in the series of emails that got this blog rolling? I have for you today installment #2. Let me remind you that I was subbing, and (to quote my sister) magnificently pregnant. Christina was homeschooling just 1 of her 5. The twins were infant status. AND, although there’s no specific mention yet as to a sister blog, it lies within these words. I promise.

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To: Christina, Mom, Dad

From: Stacy

Subject: Snippets from the week – reply

We’re having pajama day today! I am totally taking advantage of that. Give a pregnant lady the chance to wear pjs in public? Yes, please.

Good e-mail, sister. Good e-mail. Also, I have yet to comment, but I thought your Dr. Suess was brilliant. You should publish. Online. In a social forum.

Christina, I know I already shared this with you, but I might as well put it out there in cyber-space. My son thinks my legs are “comparatively large”. The problem? He’s right. Comparatively right.

Okay – today’s a real easy day here subbing so I expect many lengthy responses. But don’t let that polytheistic monster of yours touch the keyboard. It might be catching.

In the same line – the 6th graders I subbed for the other day are currently studying the Ancient Israelites as well. You should have Sim come read to them. I am certain they wouldn’t even notice the addition of Lobsters.

Oh, and I forgot the name of that website with the memory work guidelines. Peace Suffix dot org? Is that right?

Alright. I love you and expect witty repartee today.

Stacy

Comparatively large? I don't know. I couldn't see them...

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Two birds. One stone.

12 Apr

Thing I(we) Love: Crafts

The other day I made this:

I was proud of my handy work so to my sister (and a few others forgiving of braggadocio) I sent a picture. Christina replied with something like this:

“You should quit wasting your time on material yens and blog.”

Or maybe it was this:

“How dare you shove your lack of blogging in my face with felt and sack cloth!”

It may have been closer to this:

“BLOG, darnit! BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

So, CyberFriends, feast your eyes.

2 Apr

Please excuse our Holy Week blogging hiatus.

We’ll be back April 9.

It’s in the Mail

15 Mar

Thing WE love: Pen-pal-ing Cousins

Years ago, when I was a youngling, I wrote letters. Letters and letters and letters. Seriously, a LOT of letters. You don’t understand – there are book nerds, there are band geeks, there are chess dorks (I think), and then there was me: Snail Mail Dweeb. I’m not even kidding you. I wrote a letter a day. At least. I wrote letters to Christian in Germany, Ohogoho in Nigeria, Michael in Sweden, a boy in California (whose name escapes me) that I was certain would someday be my husband, and my grandparents in Minnesota. Heck, I even wrote letters to my classmates (although some would argue those had been termed “notes”).  But, my very favorite correspondance, the one for by the mail box I did wait, was penned by none other than my cousin, Amy.

Letters from Amy began cool and ended awesome. I felt popular reading them. Is that weird? It was like I had my own cool-kid-club, but it was with my cousin and she lived 2 states away. So maybe that IS weird. It probably is. I don’t know, there was something about those scribbles from afar that opened the door to cool-ness. She talked about cool things like jeans. I talked about cool things like my cats. We were cool. (I KNOW I keep saying “cool”, but there is no other adjective to describe the pubescent entitlement those letters gave me.)

Do you want to know the cooler thing? My boys now have their own cool-kid-club. They have acquired some of the coolest pen-pals ever made. And they’re feeling it, too. Very recently they began their own Snail Mail Trail with the Michigander Cousins. They correspond about such important things as Hero Factory Legos, Swimming Lessons, and Literature. Yes, LITERATURE.

It turns out they’re way cooler than I’ll ever be.

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Not the Eddie Murphy version

9 Mar

We have a new obsession at our house. It’s The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle by Hugh Lofting.

Oh, what joy the digital pages of that free download are bringing my boys. I’m telling you – public domain books are where it’s at.

Not only is it a charming little read with fanciful ideas and interesting characters – reading it via Kindle for iPad (if you want to get specific) is super super fun. Yep. You read that right. Super. Super. Fun.

See, the book is packed full of all sorts of geographical and zoological references. Some real. Some less than so. For instance, when the Purple Bird of Paradise flew over the Azores we could immediately Google both. Azores: real. Purple Bird of Paradise: less than so. Photographs of the beautiful localle now flood our mind while images of a swooping feathery wonder flood our mind’s eye.

Another tidbit learned whilst researching: The Fidgit Fish is a creation of Hugh Lofting, whereas the little guy’s most frightful nemesis, the Dogfish, is a creation of God (read: REAL). Imagine how hungry the Dogfish has been all these years searching for his make-believe snack!

My suggestion is this: Get yourself a Kindle (advertisement endorsment, please), or an iPhone (pretty please), or an iPad (Apple, do you hear me?), or a really relevant set of Encyclopedias that follow you around as you read, and sit down with this classic. Its fusion of fact and fantasy is fascinating. Find the stuff at your fingertips and Flash! – fiction fun.

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An Explanation

21 Feb

A few weeks ago my eldest says to me, “Mom, when I grow up I want to be one of those people who plays the giant piano thing during church…” Awesome. My son, the organist. I love it. I’m sure his Organist Aunt loves it even more. I can see them now, discussing Trompette Stops and Soft-soled Shoes.
He finished his adulthood dream with this, “…oh, AND I really REALLY want to be a video game tester.” Awesome. My son, the nerd. I love it. I’m sure his Nerd Dad loves it even more. I can see them now, discussing Koopa Troopas and Joysticks.

My son’s realization led to a discussion with a friend of what we had wanted to be when we grew up. Strangely enough, both of us had wanted to be dolphin trainers. Nebraska Girls Dream Big. And realistically.

What hadn’t I dreamed of being? Well, a lot of things, I guess. I never wanted to be a lawyer. Or a doctor. I had no designs to be a window cleaner or even a secretary. And I never considered being a Mom or a Teacher. What? Did you read that wrong? I’m sure not (although I’m not you). Nope. Hadn’t even thought about it.

What am I today? A Mom. A Teacher. Who knew?

I’d like to discuss the latter. See, initially I became a mom, which inspired me to want to be a teacher. Then I became a mom again while still having aspirations to become a teacher. Mom again, while working towards fulfilling the teacher dream. Teacher. Mom. The more Mom I became, the more Teacher I became, but the less Leave-the-house-to-teach-other-children I became. Get it?

Here’s where it gets confusing (yes, here). I finally figured out that what I really truly wanted to be when I grew up was a Mom (with a minor in teaching my own offspring). But, alas, turning into both a mom AND a teacher put a bit of a dink in our bank account. So, now, here I am. A  teacher. Full-time.

Don’t get me wrong. I have a really cool job. I’m a Title I Teacher. It’s one of those challenging/rewarding/pride-inducing/bash-your-head-into-a-wall jobs. Cool. I can go for that.

But, I miss my children desperately. I miss this blog desperately. I miss sweat pants desperately.

If you’ve been wondering where I am, that’s it. Molding minds and all. I promise I’ll come back. In the meantime you all are SO lucky, because you will be inundated with the wit and wiles of my sister more than usual.  Hoorah for us all!

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