I Don’t Understand

How is it that my progeny, the children genetically related to me and raised by me, are obssessed with the two things I despise the most? Why is it that all their fascinations and stories revolve around materialism and violence? How did this happen?

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True Story

Red asked why their trash can was in their sink. I explained that I’ve been trying to get rid of the smell in their bathroom for a couple of days. “Here,” I said, holding the can toward him. “I cleaned it out this morning and even now it still smells like pee.” Red agreed with me […]

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SOB Story

Have you been inside a classroom lately?  Who is most likely to get a D or an F on an assignment?  Who is most likely to be considered a discipline problem?  Who is most likely to have been diagnosed and/or on meds?  If you guessed “a boy” to any of these, you’re right.  Now, I’m […]

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The Bosses are Not Pleased

I make a furtive dash for the computer to try for the first time in over a month to chronicle our lives.  For Christmas this year my mother gave me a cd of her journal #25 (December 25, 1986 – April 11, 1987.)  She is a devout journaller.  With the cd she included a note […]

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I Eat Cupcakes for Breakfast

Saturday night I lay on the floor, toys carefully, deliberately strewn around me.  I knew I couldn’t sleep, but I’d welcome any form of rest at that point.  I envisioned my husband coming downstairs, rested, in the morning to find me exactly as I was on the floor, but with a worn-out baby using me […]

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A-ti-TWO-de

The whinyness is the worst.  Everything else is bearable and understandable, but whining grates on my nerves!  I know that I’ve been really fortunate with him, he’s such a sweet guy.  The problem is, I’m sure, that we’ve been cooped up inside for too long.  Now that we’re out and about again I sure hope […]

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Mothers Who Think

I’ve been going through old boxes, trying to sell off what I just haven’t used in years.  I was about to list a book I received from a fellow teacher as I left school that last year, when I opened the cover.  Inside I read:  Zen Mama, To the wise brilliant I shall miss you. […]

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If. . .

If I could be just a mother for a day. . . If I could be the mother without being the accountant, the secretary, the chef, the maid, the activities’ director for a dozen people . . . If I didn’t have to spend my days working on insurance and worrying about whether my passport is ever […]

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