So, it’s teacher appreciation week. That’s basically a test for adults. And I am not nearly adulty enough to have to do specific things at specific times.
Valentine’s day, with a school-aged kid, is basically a test of patience. There is the torture of watching a younger elementary school child try to write out 25 cards, the drama and hurt feelings, the sheer mass of candy, and the logistics of trying to find a babysitter for a date night in an over-crowded restaurant (or just choosing to ignore the romantic aspects completely).
Y’all. I know it’s only November. I know this, but all that does is worry me more about what the next few months will be like.
Tales of a First Grade Basket Case
I’m astoundingly good at taking my own experiences and anxieties, and making them into new anxieties about Lorelei’s experiences. I’m like a fucking anxiety superhero or something.
Light blue or dark blue? Red or gold? In my family there is no room for indecision. By the time you could talk, you’d better be able to root for a college basketball team. We are not, nor have we ever been, a family united for one school – having instead flung our allegiances all over the state of North Carolina.
I have been a full-time work-out-of-the-home mother for almost six years, so you would think I have it all under control by now.
I’ve heard there is an important game of sportsball on today. Rowan says #keeppounding. I don’t even know what that means. His middle name is a tribute to my best friend Steven, who, in a complete and reckless disregard for gay stereotypes is a huge Panthers fan.