Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
More Stuff You Never Expected to Hear Your 12-Year-Old Say
"I don't care if they're in a bag filled with water...you DON'T send tadpoles through the mail!"
Saturday, April 12, 2008
A Reluctant Tribute to Irish Dancers
My daughter loves theater, music and dance, and I love my daughter. As a result, I see a fair number of shows. In the past six months or so, we've seen High School Musical, Annie, The Spirit of Christmas and Wicked. And, of course, you know all about the wildly overpriced Jonas Brothers concert.
I'm not a reluctant participant, either. I'm very conscious of the fact that my daughter is in middle school now and on the cusp of that age where parents can do no right. I'll pretty much share anything she wants to share. I am the mom who gets up and dances when some teenage singer says he wants to see all the parents up dancing. In earlier years, I was the mom who went down the water slide holding EVERY child in my daughter's preschool class up over my head so that they could go on the water slide without going under water. I was the mom who unquestioning put on the plastic crown that was presented to me while I was making breakfast for the sleepover guests and who agreed to cover the back patio in bubble wrap after my daughter's friends were deemed too old to get into that "game" at the school fun fair. I'm the mom who, when my daughter's "boyfriend" chases the car down the block after school, plays along and whips around the block and cuts him off.
I enjoy those things, and I think they make it easier for my daughter to swallow the fact that I'm ALSO the mom--often the only one--who thinks 12 is too young to go to the community pool without a grownup, who has to talk to the other parent if we're going to have a guest or my daughter is visiting someone else, who says some movies aren't appropriate for her age and who doesn't let my child online unless I'm in the room.
But when my daughter mentioned excitedly that Riverdance was coming to town, I immediately started considering my options. I could claim it was sold out. I could pay someone else to take her. I could jump off the Brooklyn Bridge on my next business trip to New York.
It will probably come as no surprise to you that I finally chose "Go to the damned show." But I definitely haven't been looking forward to it. And I'll be honest: I fell asleep a couple of times. There's a good chance that I have no culture, but whatever the cause, watching people dance for two solid hours was about as exciting as I expected it to be.
That said, the lead dancers were astonishing. She, I believe, is a woodsprite / fairy mix. He reminded me of a lithe, prancing horse. I may have chosen the wrong animals / mythical creatures, but I'm utterly convinced that no mere human moves like that. I quite literally couldn't WATCH as fast as this man danced. It would have been comical if it weren't so riveting. If you're into that sort of thing, you should definitely see it.
Or if, you know, your KID is.
I'm not a reluctant participant, either. I'm very conscious of the fact that my daughter is in middle school now and on the cusp of that age where parents can do no right. I'll pretty much share anything she wants to share. I am the mom who gets up and dances when some teenage singer says he wants to see all the parents up dancing. In earlier years, I was the mom who went down the water slide holding EVERY child in my daughter's preschool class up over my head so that they could go on the water slide without going under water. I was the mom who unquestioning put on the plastic crown that was presented to me while I was making breakfast for the sleepover guests and who agreed to cover the back patio in bubble wrap after my daughter's friends were deemed too old to get into that "game" at the school fun fair. I'm the mom who, when my daughter's "boyfriend" chases the car down the block after school, plays along and whips around the block and cuts him off.
I enjoy those things, and I think they make it easier for my daughter to swallow the fact that I'm ALSO the mom--often the only one--who thinks 12 is too young to go to the community pool without a grownup, who has to talk to the other parent if we're going to have a guest or my daughter is visiting someone else, who says some movies aren't appropriate for her age and who doesn't let my child online unless I'm in the room.
But when my daughter mentioned excitedly that Riverdance was coming to town, I immediately started considering my options. I could claim it was sold out. I could pay someone else to take her. I could jump off the Brooklyn Bridge on my next business trip to New York.
It will probably come as no surprise to you that I finally chose "Go to the damned show." But I definitely haven't been looking forward to it. And I'll be honest: I fell asleep a couple of times. There's a good chance that I have no culture, but whatever the cause, watching people dance for two solid hours was about as exciting as I expected it to be.
That said, the lead dancers were astonishing. She, I believe, is a woodsprite / fairy mix. He reminded me of a lithe, prancing horse. I may have chosen the wrong animals / mythical creatures, but I'm utterly convinced that no mere human moves like that. I quite literally couldn't WATCH as fast as this man danced. It would have been comical if it weren't so riveting. If you're into that sort of thing, you should definitely see it.
Or if, you know, your KID is.
Monday, April 7, 2008
God is NOT in the Details
I started out here to write a post about my garbage. You see, after having reclaimed my garbage can (but not my recycling bins) and bought a new one, I walked out this afternoon to discover that the waste management folks hadn't TAKEN my garbage because my new garbage can is apparently too big. So it's sitting out by the curb and I couldn't drag it back DOWN the hill behind my house if I wanted to, and I'm pretty pissy about it.
But as I set out to write about this I remembered something a friend of mine said last week. I mentioned that my house was a wreck and she said, "I know you take your garbage and your recycling out".
Hm.
Yeah.
The reason she knew that was that I have not one but two posts about taking out my garbage and my recycling on this blog. This is three, I guess--and it's only my 35th post on this blog.
Can it really be that nearly 10% of my life is about my garbage and recycling?
I want to laugh and say of course not and wonder why this particular non-topic keeps popping up on my blog, but I suspect quite the opposite. I suspect that it's just an apt representation of the way the details that should be insignificant in life rise up and join together to take up so much time that the really important things get overlooked.
But as I set out to write about this I remembered something a friend of mine said last week. I mentioned that my house was a wreck and she said, "I know you take your garbage and your recycling out".
Hm.
Yeah.
The reason she knew that was that I have not one but two posts about taking out my garbage and my recycling on this blog. This is three, I guess--and it's only my 35th post on this blog.
Can it really be that nearly 10% of my life is about my garbage and recycling?
I want to laugh and say of course not and wonder why this particular non-topic keeps popping up on my blog, but I suspect quite the opposite. I suspect that it's just an apt representation of the way the details that should be insignificant in life rise up and join together to take up so much time that the really important things get overlooked.
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