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>I’ve accepted an invitation to be a contributor to a group blog called Mid-Century Modern Moms. We are a group of moms of teens, many of us of ‘advanced maternal age’ who are battling with our kids, negotiating through the maze of college applications, and sighing with loneliness once our kids have moved out. We’re an under-represented group in the blogosphere, but not for long.
We’re done with the diapers and breastfeeding vs. bottles, but we still deal with parent-teacher conferences, homework, laundry, and a lot of other parental dilemmas.
The Terrible Twos have been replaced by Teen Attitude.
Diaper rash is now acne.
The “kids” have moved from formula to Mountain Dew.
Child care budgets have been shifted to college tuition.
Forget Disney Princesses for holiday gifts: we’re dealing with iPods and laptops.
Sometimes I’ll cross post a piece from Compost Happens, and sometimes you’ll get fresh content from me or from the other contributors.
here.
That is — you can find me there after Monday Night Football. Go! Pack! Go!
(Update: Best. Overtime. Ever.)
>Ah, road trips. It’s amazing how much you can glean from a few license plates. It’s not the child’s ABC game or List the States game, either.
I got on the road early this morning, drove through Jo to Go (she knew my order again — must be going there too often), and hit the highway for my training workshop in Mad City. As I moved from the main highway to the smaller, two-lane road, I noticed I was not alone. What the heck were all these cars doing on this not-so-major byway at 6:30 on a Saturday morning?
The answer: the car ahead of me had a UW-Madison license plate. Ah-ha! Badger game kicks off at 11:00 a.m. This line of traffic is headed for Camp Randall. Parking is limited, and of course, they needed to allow time for tailgate parties.
I arrived at my destination. On the way into the parking lot, I noticed several personalized plates. HARP 1. TUBA 1. ISING 4U. DRUM LDY. MUSCPWR. And these, a little more challenging to decipher: BZASAB* and ROA ROE*. If I hadn’t known I was going to the School Music Association building, the cars around it would have clued me in.
It was a great workshop, both informative and validating. When we were in discussions and I heard an expert make the same comment that was in my head, I felt reassured that I really, really do know what I’m doing. When I learned statistics that show how many students participated in the types of festivals that I judged last year, I knew my work was and continued to be important. For example: 250,000 students nationwide play football. 219,000 students participated in music festivals in my state: that’s statewide, not national. And the best part? None of these student musicians sat on the bench. Every one was an active participant.
So if I moaned a little when my alarm went off early, if I doubted my wisdom in spending the day on the road, now I know it was worthwhile.
And that’s OKBYME.
The two more challenging plates? BZASAB = Busy as a bee ROA ROE = Row, row, as in Row, row, row your Boat, Gently down the stream…
>When Amigo was young, he had a three-sectioned plate that helped him learn to eat independently, despite his blindness.
As he got older and received his other diagnosis, Asperger’s Syndrome (a high functioning disorder on the autism spectrum), he continued to insist on exactly, precisely three foods. No more, no less. Three.
He outgrew the need for a sectioned plate long ago, but we have learned a new vocabulary to go with his obsession with three foods. “Honey, let’s make jello. It’s a good Third Food.” “So, if we serve this with that, what’s the Third Food?” “Can I finish up the zucchini bread for a Third Food?”
Pork chops with mashed potatoes and applesauce equals three foods.
Minestrone soup equals one.
Chicken with a side of rice, and beans = three foods.
Chicken rice casserole = one.
Spaghetti with meatballs = two foods.
Spaghetti with meatsauce = one.
You may be getting the picture. If two foods merge, such as a casserole or soup, they are One Food. If they are served separately, count each one on its own.
Amigo has matured emotionally as well as physically, and now that he’s fifteen, he’s not as picky. He can let go of the Three Foods Rule on special occasions or when we go to restaurants. He’s starting to accept modifications that bend the rule, such as a pickle as Third Food or a slice of bread (Mom’s homemade, of course) for a side dish with Mom’s Fantastic Chicken Soup or Good Wisconsin Crock-Pot Chili.
Thanksgiving should be fun. He’s willing to go beyond his usual Three. He’ll even help me cook the 1-2-3 Cranberry Sauce!
This blog blast is sponsored by Harper Collins, publisher of Deceptively Delicious, and the Parent Bloggers Network.
>Didn’t sleep well — restless dreams.
Up just before 7:00.
Realized we’d missed garbage pickup.
Helped husband pack up rabbit so he could drop her at the vet.
Showered
Had breakfast (oatmeal) with Amigo
Ran dishwasher
Took Amigo to doctor for his teenage acne
Complimented Amigo on his grown-up attitude toward three (yes, 3) vaccinations. Ouch!
Came home, made coffee
Vacuumed den and love seat, bunny’s favorite places
Welcomed plumber into the house to fix toilet
Made lunch for me and for Amigo
Paid plumber
Packed up a bag to keep Amigo busy and happy during PT appt
Went to PT (Physical Therapy), stretched, stretched, and more stretched
Left PT to pick up rabbit
Brought rabbit home
Found snacks for Amigo and rabbit
Now I only need to:
empty dishwasher
make supper
serve supper
clean up supper
go to pharmacy to pick up Amigo’s new meds (see morning appointment)
Watch Baseball! Woo-hoo!!
Go to bed. Sleep.
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>I could tell it had been a long, busy week at school. All the signs were there.
On Friday:
I pulled into the Jo to Go drive-thru at 6:45 a.m. and the barista knew what I wanted (16 oz. hazelnut, black, keep the change).
I pulled into the school parking lot and realized I’d gotten my coffee, but forgotten my ID (smart card for building entry) and room key.
I reached for my coffee and realized that my ID was sitting on the dashboard of the car from the night before.
More teachers were in jeans and casual, comfortable clothing than I’ve ever seen in this building. Even the principal was in a (stylish) workout suit.
Can you tell it was parent-teacher conference week? Busy, productive, and exhausting. I’m ready for a nap.
And I still have one more night of conferences to go.
Thank goodness for the long weekend coming up.
>Husband finally gave up on the toilet in the upstairs bathroom and replaced it with a new, energy efficient, handicapped friendly model. He was inspired to create this work of art to celebrate its installation.
Ode to Toilet:
How I love thee,
White and glistenin’,
Never complaining,
While I’m p***in’ in.
Though sometimes you roil and bubble,
And run-on as a kid in trouble,
You’re always accepting, playing my game,
(but regarding that smell, I’ll take the blame.)
I’ll shout I love you!
From the top of my lungs!
Let’s do it now!
Let’s take the plunge!
(Okay, I’ll admit this: he’s had a long week at work, too.)
>Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Common sense, like common courtesy, isn’t always common. Some folks seem to need basic safety sense written out for them in the form of basic warnings. “Do not use this hairdryer in the bathtub or shower.” “Professional driver; do not attempt.” And there’s the classic line, “I am a professional. Do not try this at home.” The organization Sick of Lawsuits has asked Parent Blogging Network to collect some of the most ridiculous warning labels in existence.
Last spring my daughter spent a long, cold night waiting for a good place in line at the grand opening of the local Love Sac store. She 
got (are you ready for this?) an 87% discount. She was kind enough to get a few things for the family with her discount, so we picked up the classic square PillowSac and its Rocker. This is the warning tag on The Rocker.
Warning:
Improper use of this product may result in injury or death.
Do not jump on The Rocker projecting oneself through open space that is inherently dangerous and may cause injury or death.
Do not allow your children to play unattended on The Rocker — better yet,
do not allow your children to play unattended at all.
Do not put any part of your body, including your entire body, underneath
The Rocker, especially when The Rocker is rocking. May result in injury or
death.
Do not eat The Rocker or anything included with The Rocker, including, but
not limited to, nuts, b0lts, tags, cardboard, packaging, plastic bags, plastic
pieces, styrofoam, unpopped popcorn kernels, etc. Attempting to eat these
things may result in injury, death, or at the very least, discomfort while
passing these items through your digestive system from entry to exit.
Do not stand on The Rocker as this may result in injury or death.
Keep The Rocker away from heaters, burning cigarettes, or any open flame. May result in injury, death, or destruction.
(Hmmm. It doesn’t say anything about rabbits….)
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Pretty, isn’t she? Now if she’d wash up a little better after eating….
