my thoughts exactly

even I know how silly this is...

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Fri, 18 May 2012 00:36:00 +0000

... but I'm all about follow through, so after two blog posts about the jungle of an eyebrow situation I had going on, how could I not post about the clearing of said jungle? Last weekend I went for what will likely now be my regularly scheduled every-6-weeks haircut, and I tacked on an eyebrow wax for good measure. You know, since it had been about eight weeks since I had stopped all eyebrow maintenance. I updated the photo two weeks later when things were really starting to get, well... hairy.

I'm really not a person invested in my appearance the way I imagine most women are. I know what cards I've been dealt, and I try to make the best of my hand, but I don't do a whole lot when it comes to a makeup, hair, and clothing regimen. But with those scraggly eyebrows, even I was feeling wholly embarrassed if anyone looked too closely at my face. It was definitely time to do something about it.

I found that my hairdresser was a bit uneasy about the waxing process as soon as we got started, as she began anxiously expressing how she didn't want to take too much off. She completed the process in a very attentive manner, but I was feeling a bit nervous about her apparent nervousness. In the end, I did ask her to tweeze a bit more than the initial wax, but I still felt like she didn't take enough off. Then I remembered that I had gotten into a pretty bad habit of making myself look perpetually surprised, so I thought better of trying to take matters into my own hands. I think the end result is presentable enough, and I'm not walking around in a cloud of embarrassment anymore, so there is that.

Shorn and happier for it,

telling secrets

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Wed, 16 May 2012 00:37:00 +0000

Pudge sat to my left on the bus, accurately connecting-the-dots around one race car after another in his coloring book when he suddenly began to speak in the type of serious tone that four-and-a-half year olds can sometimes muster.

Without looking up from his coloring, he started his story. "I said I like pink, and Dan laughed. Then he did this," and he lined his hand up on the side of his mouth, leaning toward me and began to whisper. "He told Nathan a secret like this. He said, "Pudge likes pink," and then Nathan laughed, too."

Though he didn't look at me, I could still see the hurt in his expression from my sidelong perspective. I know how much my dear little boy likes his classmate Nathan, and he hasn't had much kindness from Dan this year. A few months into the school year, I asked Pudge why he kept playing with Dan every day even though he complained about his behavior again and again. "Because I want to play with Nathan and he's always with Dan!" Ohhhh.

This story on our evening ride home did squeeze my heart a little, as it does every mother when she hears about a hurt her child has experienced, even the smallest ones. I tried to keep my response measured but empathetic. "It sounds like Dan's words hurt your feelings, I'm sorry for that. You know that you can like any color you want, though, even if someone else doesn't agree, right?"

Funny how I thought the whole gender-specific-color thing was at the heart of the matter, but that wasn't the issue for Pudge at all. "Yeah, but you shouldn't tell secrets about people."

So, my youngest child stands by his love of the color pink as a non-issue, thankfully. I mean, he does worship the ground his 18-months-older big sister walks on, and since she loves pink, so it goes for him. But the "telling secrets" part-- a preschooler's definition of rudely talking about another person-- that's leaving him feeling not so great.

After a crappy day of my own, all I wanted to do was hold my little boy tight and wish away all the jackass people my family and I have been dealing with lately. That second part isn't so much possible, unfortunately, but I did indulge in a few more lingering snuggles tonight. I mean, look at this kid. How could I not love him with all my being?

Feeling all Mama Bear tonight,

what's going on

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Tue, 08 May 2012 12:00:00 +0000

You know what's a fabulous plan? Blog about how it's your fifth blogging anniversary and then disappear from the bloggy airwaves for three weeks.

Yeah, that's how I apparently roll in late April to late May now. For teachers at my school, this is called the "work a bazillion hours a day prepping for conferences" period. Now that it has passed, I'm thinking that it's time to get my blogging affairs in order again.

Let's see... last we saw Red, she was one tooth down. Since then, she has lost another, in fact the evening we got back from Cape May. Sadly, we assume it went the way of the digestive system since it went missing sometime during a cheeseburger.

The new grown-up teeth are making their way in now, and the top two are a wee bit loose. Not much other news on that front for now.

Then we had a bit of fun with about 400 praying mantis nymphs. Oh yeah, that's a story for another blog post on another day.

Then Red and Pudge dramatized an entire relationship from courting to marriage to proposal to baby making to baby delivery to collapsing in an exhausted heap in a family bed. Yes, there is a whole lot to say about that observational experience, and that's definitely a story for another blog post on another day.

Then we celebrated Maryland Day at our school, in a lab for another buggy experience, and at the Recreation Center by watching JAM climb a gigantic structure for the first time, which just so happened to coincide with my very first heart attack. Guess what? That's a story for another blog post on another day.

So what in the world am I actually going to blog about today? Well, let's check the calendar. Today is May 8th, 2012, the sixth anniversary of the birth of our 8 pound, 12 ounce little girl, the smallest of our three eventual babies.

Happy Birthday 6 year old Red!!

Since her birthday is falling on a weekday, and one when we will be at school until we go straight to JAM's baseball game which runs until after the usual bedtime, we've already had our family birthday celebration. This weekend we gave Red some presents and one was exciting enough that it needed to be used right away. That would be the new 20" bike that makes her look like a really, really big girl. Unfortunately, we only took a several-minutes-long video that no one who hasn't contributed DNA to the creation of said child would ever be interested in seeing. So, no photo of the birthday bike, but you can see some of the other birthday joys.

So there she is, in a tree outside her first school, on the very last day of being five. Today she joins the ranks of the world's six year olds. Happy birthday to our darling little girl. Six years ago you joined our family and life has never been the same. Thank goodness.

We love you!

One happy birthday celebrating mama,

Red's got a new look

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Tue, 08 May 2012 02:52:00 +0000

If you ever venture over to Real Moms Guide, you can see that I get a lot more blogging done over there than on my original little space on the web. That's why it's been more than a week since a significant event in Red's locks' life. Yes, Red had her long locks cut to a very short new 'do. I told the story in a RMG post last week- Friday's Funny: Hair No More.

Want to see the photographic evidence of her big step in life? I'm pretty sure this was only her third haircut ever, and the first two were simple trims. This one? Not so much a trim...

Red's last braids the morning before her haircut.

Pudge getting his last chance to play with the hair he adores once the braids were let out.

EXCITED.

Two snips and it was gone. Maybe there was a brief moment of shock. But...

... it was quickly replaced with absolute joy.

One elated short-haired girl.

Suddenly, our little girl grew up in the matter of a half hour or so. Though I worried about missing her long hair, even I have to admit that she look adorable. The cut is great and it falls beautifully on her. She loves having it behind her ears, and it fits perfectly. Apparently, she is a short haircut kind of gal, too!

Mom to one stylish kid,

I should buy myself something made of wood

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 17:25:00 +0000

It's my fifth anniversary of blogging as of today! Not sure if that is worthy of celebration, but it definitely seems like something that is worthy of blogging about.

Truth be told, this silly little blog started two years before that with a measly four posts that went out into the Internets only to be forgotten about by the entire world (or just me, since I was the only one who knew it existed...), until it was revisited on April 17, 2007.

Honestly, it was a more than a little weird to read my 2007 self pondering what life would be like five years from then. I was wise beyond my years then, because now in 2012, I can indeed sit back and say that I got through all those worrisome days-to-come just fine. I finished up working while pregnant with Pudge, delivered my biggest baby yet later that year, and spent a lovely four years hanging out at home with those two adorable 18-months-apart babies.

Now, we are indeed getting through life with three kids in school and a full-time day job, and I even get to sneak in reading, writing, and blogging here and there. All in all, life is good.

Who knows what life will look like five years from now, when I've officially entered my forties (gasp!). I hope the blog will still be around for me to wish a happy tenth!

Throwing myself a little party,

cape may in april

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 03:57:00 +0000

It's been over a week since our little weekend getaway came to an end. This three day jaunt had been highly anticipated for months, ever since the group deal came through my email back in the winter. The name of the bed & breakfast caught my eye, and for good reason. I had heard plenty about the place in Cape May, New Jersey, where my hubby's family had vacationed each summer for years. The deal was pretty good, and my in-laws had just restated their offer to watch the kids again if we wanted to go away again before our second annual planned retreat this summer.

It was set. April would see us staying at The Dormer House. And it would be good.

Oh, it was. It was so, so good.

On the drive there, we listened to music and chatted, and I tried really, really hard to keep my eyes open, though anyone that knows me, knows that this is an extreme challenge for me in a moving vehicle. One idea sat on the edge of my thoughts for much of the drive, and it took me a while to get it together enough to sound coherent. I was excited with the anticipation of the memories that were to come. The fact that one week from that moment, I would be thinking back to something funny or tender... something that still, at that moment, sat ahead of me on the horizon. Sure, it doesn't sound too deep or anything now, but it felt heavy at the time, trust me.

Anyhoo. We spent that Friday afternoon settling in at the house and exploring the area a bit. First up, I was immediately enamored with an old typewriter that sat on a desk in the parlor. I didn't need much convincing to sit and try it out-- gently, of course-- while hubby snapped a few shots. Oh, how I wanted this to be mine.

Also among the oldish and coolish things was this phone that seriously brought to mind some sort of Muppet. I kept waiting for it to start singing Mahna Mahna.

Then it was off to see the beach. I'm not the biggest fan of the beach... sand in parts where it shouldn't be, aching sunburned skin... but, the beach in April? Fully clothed? Awesome. It took me a minute or so, but I even got my feet in the water for a tiny bit. (Cold, very cold, just in case you were wondering.)

Our first attempts at photographing ourselves at arm's length were not too great, with the sun in our eyes and my apparent need to shout something right as hubby pushed the button.

Luckily enough, a couple passing by offered to take our picture, so we are graced with a much better photographic memory of the afternoon.

Hubby intently combed the rocks and shells for perfect specimens to bring back to the children, especially Pudge who is a bit of an aficionado.

Over dinner, I got the brilliant idea for the good signs gone bad post when I read about the different types of taco's that were available at the bar/restaurant. We had a grand time since there were drinks, some delicious skinny fries, the Yankees on the big screen, and games for hubby to play. I grabbed his phone to update his status after he played a round of pool.

Thankfully, hubby is used to the fact that I don't play bar games like pool, but he did have several small fans in the restaurant giving him tips on which ball to hit. That part was not so much like college, though.

As we walked around the neat place that is Cape May, we of course took many, many pictures of beautiful houses. One that we saw that first afternoon had these amazing ceramic tiles in rows, and they gave the house serious character.

We walked around Congress Hall, which was pretty impressive when you realize that it's almost two centuries old now. Also, it was the site where I made him pose for one of many silly photos that were taken over the weekend.

Clearly, a former student of the Midvale School for the Gifted.

More random shots from the night's walk, including the jaunt down to the tip of Cape May, just in time for the sunset. Gorgeous. Then we were treated to the rise of the moon on the walk back in the opposite direction. We won't go into the whole story of how I was amazed at how fast the moon was rising, because it will just make me sound like an idiot. Ahem.

Yup, Scott took a picture of and even touched-- for a brief second-- this Ferrari.

I was a big fan of the details on this cool Cape May house!

This one's for my dear Dad. Hubby lined up the photo perfectly with the flag in the back!

Sunset at the tip of Cape May looking out toward the lighthouse. Seriously breathtaking.

Surprisingly speedy moonrise.

The next morning saw us downstairs to enjoy the second part of the bed & breakfast deal. It was served on the charming closed-in porch, and the woman serving breakfast was freaking hilarious. She told everyone assembled all about some show she watched that morning about a guy's worst day ever, and I swear to you that I've searched and googled until my fingers ached to find what in the hell she was talking about to try to link to it, but with no luck. Perhaps she just made that up, but it was bawdy and funny and totally put us in a laughing mood for the day. Oh, and I also used hubby's phone to look up a Mitch Hedberg joke that had been in vague form in my head over breakfast. Gotta love Mitch. (For the specific joke that had me crying when I read it aloud, head to :50, but the entire 6 minutes is just as funny... as long as you don't mind the occasional bit of well-placed profanity.)

After breakfast, but before we'd need a Chair/Lunch/Dinner, we headed up to Wildwood, NJ, or what was described to me as the Ocean City of south Jersey. That didn't help much since I've never been to Ocean City, MD, either, but I got the gist of it-- boardwalk, shops, arcades, beach, yada, yada. We had to play some Skee-ball, and though it was fun, it definitely was not an even match up. See my darling hubby standing there with his long line of tickets still attached to the machine? Yeah, we both played the same number of games, but if you look closely, you'll see where my line of tickets ends... see my shoe on the floor? It's holding down the end of my tickets. Sigh.

Hubby's lucky lane on the left, my cursed one on the right.

Another walk on the beach was called for, even though it was horribly windy. I did get the rare chance to see a sand shark getting caught by one of the world's most famous fishermen.

Eh, I figured that random fishing dude didn't want his face plastered on some stranger's blog...

After a while, we headed back to Cape May for lunch, and then a bit of serious downtime back at the B&B. We sat snacking, imbibing, and reading for a while on the very same porch on which hubby played Star Wars figures thirty years ago. Too freaking cool.

Dinner that night was unbelievably delicious, care of the Mad Batter. Sure, we had a few drinks with our amazing dinner (at which someone gave me the stink eye when I contemplated ordering two appetizers... even though one of them was going to be a salad... humph), but I didn't think we were as tipsy as this post-dinner-walk-on-the-beach photo might indicate. Damn you, flash. My semi-lazy eye just can't handle you!

With our last day suddenly upon us, we enjoyed Sunday's delicious Easter morning breakfast. (Yeah, that's right. We abandoned our children on Easter weekend. Parents. Of. The. Year.) With hubby's incredible work at physical therapy for the last three months, he's now able to once again ride a bike, as long as he can jack the seat way up high. So, we took an hour to ride some rented bikes along the boardwalk, and of course, we took photos to prove the fact that both he and I got on bikes. (It's actually more remarkable to see me on a bicycle than four-month-post-knee-surgery-hubby.)

Look at him go, ladies and gentleman!

Riding and taking self-portraits. What could go wrong??

Hubby's attempt at getting us both in a shot while riding has me looking like a dorky Photo Bomber.

On those bikes, we went back down to the tip where we watched the sunset Friday night, and this time hubby went out on the rocks for a picture with the faraway lighthouse. Too bad he didn't think to pretend to hold it up or something extremely clever like that that's never been done before ever.

Oh, and another thing that might make me sound like an idiot, but I was completely shocked to see these two mallard ducks surfing and hanging out on the beach. Don't they live on lakes? Were these two taking a much needed weekend break from their brood, too?

Then it was, sadly, time to head home. We opted to take the Cape May/Lewes ferry for part of the travels, and what a great idea that was. Well, in hindsight, if we hadn't been waiting for this ferry to come in...

... then we wouldn't have ordered these drinks, which we needed to consume quickly before boarding...

... and I wouldn't have felt like this approximately five minutes after getting on board...

But don't you worry, a little lunch and a wee bit of an on-deck nap, and soon enough I was feeling pretty damn good. King of the world good, you could say!

And finally, it was time to call an official end to the weekend, for as soon as we pulled off the ferry, I pulled out the computer and did some more report writing for work before returning to the wacky kids and the ready-to-go-home grandparents. Of course, not before taking one last picture of our weekend getaway, marking the final minutes of the fun.

And that was that. An incredible weekend away filled with laughs and the coolest hubby I've ever known. (Wait... perhaps that didn't come out quite right...) Oh, and I should definitely mention that we checked in at home a couple of times over the weekend, chatting with the kids and hearing about their adventures. The best update we received was this photo that my mother-in-law took of the three amigos in her backseat after a day at the zoo. I immediately put it up to resounding joy on Facebook.

Status: I feel completely at ease being away knowing that the kids are in the fabulous care of their tranquilizer-wielding grandparents.

Oh yes. We will do this again sometime.

Reminiscing after only one week,

good signs gone bad

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 03:24:00 +0000

I'm one of those people who enjoys good grammar. I'm definitely not perfect, and I'm sure there are plenty of past blog posts that could be marked up with virtual red ink. But, I try. And I try really hard not to make stupid mistakes.

What I'm not good at-- at all-- is ignoring signs with mistakes. Professionally printed signs that have blatant errors seriously piss me off, to put it bluntly. And I'm figuring that instead of just trying in vain to ignore them, I will document them so as to share the wealth of pissed off-ness.

This past weekend away provided the first few examples to be documented. Be forewarned, excessive misuse of quotation marks and apostrophes ahead.

One sign that I wasn't able to document with a photograph had just one small extra letter, but it can make all the difference when negotiating a deal.

FOR SALE

BUY OWNER

Hmmm... is he cute?

I'm left hanging here. What is it that belongs to the Beer Battered Fish Taco and the Grilled Mahi-Mahi Taco that should interest me on this menu? How do I know if I want to order it if you've left off a major piece of information?

Okay, this one isn't terrible, but I can't help but get annoyed when simple words get switched. Breath is what comes out of your mouth when you breathE. Oh, and not on this sign, but in a similar vein, please, please realize that one O makes a big difference in the meanings of lose and loose.

Why do I get the sense that someone is winking and nudging me when I read this sign? What do you mean by "in case of fire" and "close vent?" Is there some secret innuendo that I'm missing?

Yup, we have a winner with this double whammy. Meaningless quotes AND an out-of-place apostrophe? Score. I actually made Hubby stop the car so I could jump out and take this picture. Honestly? Did a non-native speaker print this sign?

Okay, the weekend wasn't filled entirely with anger-inducing signs. Some signs were just damn hilarious.

Interpretive dance may not be for everyone, but Hubby and I had to at least try to take advantage of this center. I'm not quite sure what we're interpreting here, but it was certainly fun.

Sorry, I just couldn't resist. The ol' swimming hole was calling to me, sign be damned.

If you've seen any of your own ridiculous signs, drop me a line. I can't believe the things that are printed every day that are so grossly incorrect. Want to help me publicly shame them? Hit me over on the my thoughts exactly page on Facebook!

Yours in attempts at good grammar,

what a difference, the second time around

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 13:21:00 +0000

When JAM lost his first tooth in the Spring of his first grade year, no one can dispute that it was quite an ordeal. Sorry, ordeal is actually an understatement. The drama associated with that experience was Oscar Award-worthy. End of the World scale disaster. If I believed in such things, I would have suspected a real-life poltergeist.

The wiggling of that wee bottom tooth went on for months and months, until it was literally hanging on by a tiny shred. Just the suggestion that I grasp it with tissue-covered fingers brought forward such anxiety-fueled terror that the cries could be heard by all our neighbors, as well.

Fast forward a few years to Red's first loose tooth. For the last few months, both of her middle bottom teeth have been loose. They've gotten looser, and she's been just fine with allowing me to wiggle them a bit after we brush teeth in the evening. I'd been cautiously optimistic about what was in store for both of us when the time finally came for those teeth to make their exits. I found out that while Red is definitely her brother's sister, there can be fear without terror, worry without real anxiety.

To read the play-by-play of Red's first tooth losing experience, click over to my Real Moms Guide post Friday's Funny: Toothless Wonder.

Wish me luck for the next 19 of her teeth. And, even more so, the remaining 12 of JAM's. Then there will still be 20 for Pudge someday, too. I could have a kick-ass necklace by the end of this.

Pudge and Red, after the happy tooth-losing event.

Hoping the next tooth doesn't provoke eardrum-shattering screams,

just call me Bert

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 02:06:00 +0000

Remember when I did the whole self-deprecating-blogger thing and posted a picture of my getting-out-of-control eyebrows? Yeah, that was fifteen days ago, and apparently fifteen days is exactly how long it takes for my eyebrows to get all the way out of control.

It's official. I am old-man-bushy in the eyebrow area. Amazingly enough, the unibrow thing isn't too bad, but it's definitely there. It's time, people. It's time.

Unfortunately, there is no actual time between now and Friday morning when hubby and I head out of town (for a weekend away BY OURSELVES!!) to get these waxed. I'm tempted to take the tweezers out and go at them myself, but that would defeat the entire purpose of this public embarrassment experiment, right? I wanted to grow them out enough that every hair that would even consider joining the eyebrow crew would pop out, and then I could put my eyebrows into the hands of an experienced waxing person. And maybe, just maybe, that person would be able to find the "beautiful natural arch" that has been eluding my tweezers-wielding self these past few years.

I'm thinking that the image in the photos that hubby and I take this weekend will capture a shaggy-eyebrowed, in-desperate-need-of-a-haircut me. Sigh.

Incredibly still leaving the house looking like this everyday,

how to feel about being the minority

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 04:00:00 +0000

Without going into the long, drawn-out back story, let me just start by saying that as we prepare for Red to transition from the school where I teach and she attends kindergarten this year, to public school next year for first grade, it's the first time that we'll be having any experiences with our neighborhood school. JAM has been at a different elementary school since first grade, but the situation now is that we cannot set up the same scenario for Red.

We'd heard concerns about our neighborhood school in the past. Vague concerns like an inactive PTA and a lack of family involvement in the school. More specific worries about large class sizes. But, for the record, we have never visited the school or really had an in-depth conversation with someone we knew well who had experiences with the school.

(We opted not to send JAM there out of convenience, since his babysitter who had cared for him for three years as an infant-preschooler was available to once again watch him before and after school when he entered first grade. Sorry, felt at least a little back story was necessary.)

Now that it looks more and more like we have no other option but to send Red to this school, I've had a couple of conversations with parents of students there. One is a close friend whose daughter is Red's age and has been at the school this year for kindergarten. She is pleased overall, though she was honest in our conversation about some negatives, too. She knows me so well when she says, "You're going to have a problem with how they do-- or don't do-- outside play." Apparently if there is even a hint of "inclement" weather, indoor recess is given. That does seem like a problem, but not a problem unique to one particular school, but part of a larger issue I have with the trends of public school education.

Then I happened to meet a dad at one of our neighborhood playgrounds this week who has two children at the school- a son in 2nd grade and a daughter in kindergarten. In their third year with the school, he also reported that he and his wife are pleased. He mentioned that there's a serious feeling at the school, or in his words, "They kind of take the "fun" out of most things," which again falls under my perception of much of public school education's emphasis on testing and an almost militaristic "everybody get in line" attitude.

But there's another factor that both my friend and the dad I met mentioned, both times very early on in the conversation. My friend, who is black, said, "Red won't be with many other white children." The dad, who is white, said, "We're definitely in the minority there." This got me thinking more and more-- should this be a consideration?

Apparently, there are only two or three white children and one Asian student in my friend's daughter's kindergarten class of under 25 students. Red's kindergarten class right now is composed of 16 children, with two black students and three Asian students. Is it appropriate for families of the few white, the few black, or the few Asian children to be concerned about their minority statuses?

I'm not sure how I personally feel about it. On face value, it doesn't seem that it should be an issue for me or for Red. I want her to make friends with children who are kind, fun, and interesting, and their skin color doesn't play a factor in those considerations, obviously. But, is there a valid point to be made that she will have a less than optimal experience with only one or two peers who look like her? (Minus the red hair, for it's statistically likely that she will often be the only red haired student in a class.)

With our neighborhood school looking like the only viable option for her schooling next year, I ask these questions not because it's a factor in our decision, but more from the perspective of just being honest about my internal dialogue right now. I hope nothing I say here is taken as offensive, for that is not my intent whatsoever. I do, however, think that for as much as we're supposedly in a "post-racial" society (yeah, right) now that we have a president who is not 100% white, it still is extremely challenging to talk openly about race and culture.

I'd love to hear others' reactions to these questions!

Curious and open to reflection,

this is what a spoiler post looks like

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Sat, 24 Mar 2012 21:16:00 +0000

Hubby and I were having a conversation the other day about my tendency to form stronger opinions on matters than lots of other folks. I have been labeled "passionate" by many people, some with more negativity in their tones than others. I can see how some people may be surprised by the strength of my convictions-- on matters both big and small-- if that's not how they roll. But, it's just the way it works for me. I think about things, all things, deeply, especially the things that I love the most.

You know where I'm going with this, right?

Yes, I'm ready to talk about The Hunger Games movie. And yes, I'm not entirely pleased.

There's a level of disappointment, that even when couched with my understanding of the necessity for cinematic changes, is still quite palpable. I will be the first to say that I get it. A book cannot be transformed in its whole into a movie. I am likely one of the only people on the planet who would be willing to sit for eight hours to watch a completely accurate adaptation. I know this.

But. I can't help but acknowledge this film's areas of disappointment. I wouldn't be me if I didn't share my opinions, regardless of the number of people who think I'm crazy or just putting too much thought into it.

After we got home from the movie at almost 2 am this morning, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Mind you, this is after at least 30 minutes of standing around with my friends after the movie chatting about our reactions. A friend came down from her home about an hour away to see the flick with us, and I think she was hugely relieved when I finally left her alone to crash on our couch, but I couldn't sleep even after I jotted down a bunch of thoughts that were floating around my head. I lay in bed in the dark, continuing to scribble tidbits down that I hoped would be legible in the morning.

Now, I hope to put those thoughts (and the ones that I still keep generating) into some sort of order. If you don't want spoilers for the movie or the general plot of the story, you're going to want to mosey on out of here. And, as crazy long as this post as going to be, I know it will only be a fraction of what I could share from my thoughts. I heard a phrase today that cracked me up and is totally fitting: my stream of consciousness isn't even close to running dry.

Casting:

It appears to be a general consensus that Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen is an incredibly natural fit. She kicked that part's ass, truly. The image she projected so closely matched the one I had in my head from reading the books that I had no trouble whatsoever integrating them.
Stanley Tucci as Caesar Flickerman was a casting decision made of pure brilliance. His gigantic, perfectly straight teeth made his over-the-top smile match his personality. He embodied that role to a tee.
Josh Hutcherson was a perfect Peeta Mellark to me. Physically, emotionally, just exactly right.
Effie Trinket and President Snow were the ones that surprised me by how much I enjoyed the performances.
And then there were Haymitch, Cinna, and Gale. Sigh. Woody Harrelson's got acting chops, and I liked his performance... but, that wasn't Haymitch Abernathy. He was a muted character who wasn't nearly as troubled, nearly as offensive and gross, nearly as drunk. Haymitch has been purposefully forcing his mind into a constant state of oblivion for 24 years as he's marched pairs of kids to their deaths again and again. This character appeared mildly amused by the presence of Katniss and Peeta, and didn't have the depth of despair and disgust with his life that Haymitch does in the book. It's not Harrelson's fault, for he played the role that he was given, and that's a common theme here, to me. Poor Lenny Kravitz, who I think could have played the subtle role of Cinna quite well had he been given a chance. Instead, he's relegated to the status of a minor character whose stylistic creations left little impression on me as a viewer. I mean, really. They had a few flames coming off their backs as they rode in on the chariot. Really? As far as Gale goes, well, there's not much to say. Rather than being a character to help Katniss reflect on the meaning of her existence back in District 12, he's demoted to a teeny-bopper magazine cover photo-- the lovesick boy at home, only appearing on-screen a few times to simply stare in longing. Lost opportunities one, two, and three.

Visuals:

From the opening shots, I was lauding the filmmakers for the imagery. The Seam? Perfect in its desperation, even if the Peacekeepers were way too serious looking for that District, even on Reaping Day. The Hob? Eerie and dark and spot on. The Capitol? Oh my crap, that was incredible.

The jerky camera shots may have made my stomach hurt in the beginning, but so did the book, so that was only fitting. That helped to establish a feeling of seeing things through Katniss' eyes in the first few scenes, which I think was lost as the movie went on. At times the filming style and presentation helped to create an appropriate sense of disorientation, and I honestly clapped a tiny bit.
I wish they did some more close shots of the food spreads to really play up the decadence that was completely unfamiliar to Katniss and shocked her on multiple levels. It might sound odd, but I have more thoughts to share about the role of food in the story, and lack of role in the movie, below.

Positive additions:

The greater role of President Snow was interesting to me, especially as it proved wrong my initial worry about Donald Sutherland playing the role. I understood what that did for the movie as he helped to fill in some back story and propel the plot along for people unfamiliar with the book. He was quietly terrifying.
Even with what I said before about my disappointment with the movie's portrayal of Haymitch, I did appreciate the one short scene that helped to show a tiny bit of the agony that he feels at his life when he witnessed the Capitol child being given a weapon as a gift and the way he instantly used it. Though not in the book, this felt right to me.
And finally, the best part that was created solely for the movie was the Gamemakers' headquarters. The way that they portrayed the technology and the production side of the Games as entertainment was brilliant. It was disgusting and completely inhumane, and wholly consistent with the feeling of the book even though it was never explicitly described in the text.

Missed opportunities, or where I get extremely nitpicky and most likely off-putting to the average viewer who just wanted to enjoy the movie:

Where to begin? The pin. Sigh. The whole beginning part of the movie, while trying to establish the relationship between Katniss and Prim just didn't do it for me. The fact that the mayor's daughter literally pins the hopes of a different future on Katniss without her even realizing is so important later on down the road. The symbolism of that pin is at the heart of what is to come, and it was instead demoted to a cute decoration that was simply happened upon.
The next logical misstep to me was the fact that nothing was ever explained about the mockingjay itself. The fact that the mockingbird, a survivor of nature mated with the jabberjay, a creation of the Capitol made to subvert a rebellion, is important. Even more important is that the result was this bird who in turn was embraced by the rebellion as a symbol of their strength and ability to rise again. There is a true role for the mockingjay that was completely left out of the film.
The role of food and the ability to have or provide sustanence to oneself and one's loved ones is a recurring theme. When I reread the first book shortly after reading (yes, I actually read this) The Unofficial Hunger Games Cookbook, I was frustrated with myself that I had previously given little attention to passages about the food that Katniss is suddenly surrounded with in the Capitol. Or even the descriptions that the food she ate at home. That was a bad reader move on my part, because the role of food is so integral to her life. And in the movie it was glossed over for sure. And, little to no attention was given to her struggle to find food or water during the Games. Near starvation is an experience she's familiar with at more than one point in her life, and this wasn't shown during the Games at all, sadly.
The redhaired Avox girl had no role in the film, and I guess I can submit that this was one of the things that could have been left out for the sake of shortening the plot. But, I was kinda ticked when Katniss says something to Gale about being punished by the Capitol if they tried to run off and mentions "they might cut out our tongues." In the book, she is horrified when she finds out that this is a true punishment, and this opens her eyes to the realities of the terror meted out by the Capitol. Sure, leave out the Avox, but don't casually equip Katniss with this knowledge in passing. More sighing.
Peeta and Katniss had the chat on the night before the Games, and my heart was pounding as Peeta struggled to express his desire to retain his humanity once they got in the arena. Loved it. But why in the world were they still in their apartment? Why not put them on the roof like they're supposed to be. You know? Where they first discover the idea of a force field? You know? That little detail that is at the heart of how they survive the coming Quarter Quell? Would that have been so hard to film? Gah.
Oh Rue. How is it that I haven't mentioned you and your face of innocence yet? You were lovely, and even though the connection you made with Katniss was rushed through for the sake of time in the movie, I was still brought to tears when you died. Katniss looked up at that camera and made her feelings clear after decorating your body to give it one final moment of beauty after a life of hardship. Then she was rewarded with a basket of bread from your district, a huge sacrifice on their part. It had been unheard of for one district to send a gift to a tribute from another district. Ah, yes, the beginnings of the districts working together, what an important piece of the foundation to lay down. Oh. Wait. There was no bread. There was no moment when Thresh looked at Katniss, preparing to kill her, pausing only to ask her if she did that for Rue and her begging him to just make her death quick and stating something to the effect of, "Your district sent me bread." (My book is out on loan, so forgive me my approximation of a quote.) Where was the bread?
Sure, the movie was intense overall, but many key aspects were simplified and the effect was a loss of the desperation and near-death states of both Katniss and Peeta. In the movie, there was the ringing and muted sounds that we heard right after the explosion at the Cornucopia, but apparently her hearing was restored immediately. Peeta's leg looked bad, but there was no tourniquet, no fear on Katniss's part that he was on the brink of death. And, no replacement leg after the Games. Katniss' forehead wound was ugly, but never extreme, never knocking her out. Did it ever feel like any of the tributes, especially Katniss and Peeta were about to die of starvation? At the end, they hopped off that Cornucopia as if they were ready to do cartwheels of joy with their mostly-intact bodies. Um. Peeta was barely hanging on to life, so much so that after they're taken away, Katniss has no idea if he even survived.
Let's talk Cato's death. Remember how painful it was for Katniss and Peeta to listen to him suffering? That he had on that protective suit that kept the muttations from killing him completely? That it became an act of mercy on Katniss' part to finally release him from that horror? It felt so quick and insignificant in the movie to me.
But wait a minute, let's back up to those muttations. Or, if you've only seen the movie, let's just call them the wild dogs that suddenly materialized to chase them and tear them to shreds as wild animals would do. Remember when Seneca Crane asked the person to pull up the muttation and it appeared as a hologram. Picture this: right after it appears, the tribute picture of Glimmer appears, and Seneca says, "The audience is going to love this. Who could miss those green eyes?" Would that have been difficult? The horror that these additional genetically modified creations of the Capitol's represent even more solidified the evilness of the Capitol for Katniss. It made it more personal than ever before. Would that have been too harsh for the film? Would that have made it so that 10 year olds couldn't have gone to see the movie? Was it all about the pursuit of a PG-13 rating?
I saved the biggest one for last. Since there's no reasonable expectation for brevity at this point, I could go on and on on this part more than any other. But, I'll try to be as concise as possible. In the book, Katniss spends the entire time during training under the impression that she and Peeta are being counseled to act that they are in love. In the arena, she is dismayed to discover that Peeta has betrayed her when she sees him in an alliance with the Careers. Then she questions that when she finds him again, near death. She has to be reminded by Peeta to play up the relationship. "You can kiss me any time now." (Again, approximated quote.) All the way to the end, she thinks this is an act, and her confusion only increases as time goes on. When she finally speaks to this after the Games, Peeta is shocked, and Katniss faces a sudden coldness from him that she wasn't prepared for. In the movie, well, this is all seriously simplified into a simple budding young love, semi-complicated by the maybe feelings that she has for Gale back at home. But really, we're not privy to many of Katniss' feelings or inner thoughts in the movie, which is so drastically different than the character-driven nature of the inner dialogue that makes up the book. Sadly, in the movie, she kisses Peeta of her own accord, out of her growing feelings, not from a motivation of survival.
Overall, simplified is the word that loomed large in my head throughout the movie. We were spoon-fed some details, since we didn't have Katniss to narrate for us as in the book. With the level of intensity that the music and the imagery provided, the entirety of the film never scratched the surface for the level of desperation the book conveyed. Again? Just so a younger audience could pony up the cash to see it? Cue cynical eyebrow raise.

Here's where I leave it. My husband gave his opinion in a succinct twelve word assessment: "Not bad, but not the book. just go in with realistic expectations." I however, blogged on and on for the last several hours.

As I went to bed, an analogy came to me. The Hunger Games movie is fast food, a chicken nugget if you will. It's tasty and enjoyable to eat, if left uncompared to anything else. It doesn't take much effort to attain, it doesn't cost much, and it's easy to consume. But, if you take a while to prepare a whole chicken, baked to deliciousness over time, it's a real meal. A true eating experience, one to remember long after the baking dish is cleaned. That's the book, a real meal.

I'm fairly certain there is not one single person still reading this, and I am not even the least bit ashamed to say that I am utterly exhausted from writing this assessment. I acknowledge my insanity at caring enough about a book to go to these lengths, but like I said before, this is how I roll.

So please, if you have no experience with this story and you're curious, please get the book. Read it. Ponder it, savor it. Think about the excesses of the Capitol and think if there are any parallels in our own reality. Sadly, I think this piece of fiction is terrifying and entirely relevant to serious conversations about socio-political themes in the world today.

Three words: read the book.

Not surprised in the least that I'm leaving it at that,

will you be at the theater today?

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 14:03:00 +0000

Maybe you've heard of a little movie that opens today? Eh, there's been so little media coverage of it, I wouldn't be surprised if you have no idea what I'm talking about.

Yeah, right.

Back in December 2008, I found myself ignoring my family as I devoured Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games the first time. I couldn't believe I was entranced by a science fiction-ish type of book. I loved chatting with my online book club about it, my first real experience with YA literature since I was a young adult back in the day. Then I reviewed it for 5M4B almost exactly three years ago, while the hype for this literary sensation was still somewhat small. I told everyone I knew that they simply had to read this book.

Now, the movie The Hunger Games has released. Our tickets have been purchased, and as soon as the sitter arrives tonight, we'll head out with some friends to grab a drink and annoy my husband with my need to talk incessantly about my fascination with this book, the multiple reviews that I've read in the last 48 hours, and my hopes and fears for the movie adaptation. When I re-read the book (for the third time) a couple of weeks ago, I'm pretty sure hubby liberally threw around the words unbearable and insufferable.

Oh yes, he's so looking forward to it. It won't be shocking if he chooses to sit far, far away from me during the movie.

Even though I'm (uncharacteristically) hopeful about the film, I will likely still be donning my favorite movie-going T-shirt this evening, just because.

I will also have the delight of wearing a hand-made pin that was sent to me by a kind and talented friend. (And yes, I realize that I took the photo with the pin oriented in the wrong direction, but I can't seem to find a piece of software to rotate the photo about 30 degrees to make it right. What? You didn't notice that? Okay, I'm a complete freaking geek.)

Pretty cool, huh? She sent it as thanks for introducing her to the book, and I love that she took time to make this for little old me.

I'm not too thrilled that this movie has become a teeny-bopper phenomenon, honestly, and I will audibly scoff if I see anyone at the theater donning anything that declares them one "Team" or another. I am, however, looking forward to seeing if the true thought-provoking themes of the book make it to the screen tonight.

If you've already seen it or plan to see it and you're looking for an online forum in which to share all your HG related thoughts, head over to 5 Minutes for Books' Let's Discuss the Hunger Games HERE post. I'll surely be logging in tomorrow!

May the odds of not being pissed off at the end of this movie be ever in my favor,

highlighting the good

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 13:09:00 +0000

My heart is still racing and my stomach is still churning, yes. I have indescribable anger at someone who is supposed to be a role model for my child, and I don't have faith that anything is going to truly be done about it.

But. The last day or two wasn't all bad, and in my attempt to use this blog as a way to document life- both good and bad- I feel obligated to highlight some of the good. If nothing else, perhaps it will help me to lower my dangerously high blood pressure right now.

Who's the boss? Yesterday saw a few machines at my command, and with only a bit of effort on my part, some serious chores got done. My dishwasher has been put to use more often this week with three of us home all day again, so I made sure to offer up my regular thanks to that beloved piece of machinery. I also pulled out the user manuals for both our washing machine and oven, for they were facing a day of self-cleaning mode. Our front loader machine has a sanitize function, and I used it for the first time, after conducting all the suggested maintenance steps. (Don't judge too much when I tell you that the little filter thing at the bottom of the machine that we're supposed to clean out every two months was really damn disgusting. I gotta remember to mark the calendar!) A couple hours later, I did the self-cleaning mode on the oven, and other than the stink, it was great knowing that three hours of crazy high heat was going to eradicate the last year's worth of pizza drippings. (Okay, it still needed a good 15 minutes of wiping down, and sure, it doesn't look brand new or perfect, but it's mostly clean, and that's good enough for me.) Take that, inanimate objects. You work for me.

Red's a reader. Seriously. All the time. Unless she's drawing or writing. Red's reading is the topic of my latest Real Moms Guide post "Friday's Funny: Mini Me," and I'm bursting at the seams to brag about her all the time. She's loving reading, and she's writing stories and signs all day long. She read the bag of Pirate's Booty at lunch yesterday. She works so hard to figure out unfamiliar words. She speaks of her teachers so highly, and she's applying what they've suggested to her. "Mrs. K. says that I can skip words that I don't know and keep reading and then I might be able to figure out what the word was!" To see her falling in love with something that I happen to hold so dear is incredible.

Thank the heavens for playgrounds. We've brought our lunches to the playground a couple days this week, and the change of scenery for eating does something magical. The kids had conversations together that was (mostly) bickering-free, and the warmth of the sunshine was so welcomed. We discovered a new-to-us bug and pondered life's big questions like "Do frogs have teeth?" I cannot imagine what life would be like without our neighborhood playgrounds, truly.

Spring has sprung. Early. And that's not disconcerting in the least. Hmmmm. Our garden is alive with color, and the kids are swooning over the tulips, especially. These are my favorite flowers of the year, because their color is the first of the season and it's always a great way to be jolted to life. (Even if that jolt includes some deep worry about why it's 80 degrees in March in the DC area.) And if the reds, purples, yellows, blues, and whites aren't enough, there are always the advanced, puffy dandelions to take joy in, as Red and Pudge did yesterday.

Among all the worry and disgust that this week has brought care of a "teacher" in our oldest son's life, there were also happy moments that should be acknowledged, too. As 3/5 of our family wraps up our staycation Spring Break, we're already looking ahead to when life will be school-free for a few months and filled with playgrounds, sunshine, and the opportunity to keep on top of those nagging house chores. (Okay, maybe I'm the only one looking forward to that last one.)

Liking the good a helluva lot more than the bad,

the facts of life

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 21:45:00 +0000

You know that whole ditty about taking the good and taking the bad? Yeah, there was a big old dose of the bad last night and today, and I'm certain that we haven't seen the end of it yet. The last 24 hours has likely torn a hole in the lining of my stomach from all the churning that's been going on.

Outrage is the only way to describe how I felt all evening yesterday. JAM has been having trouble with a teacher this year. When I say 'having trouble,' I'm being generous. I have no reservations saying that his teacher is dishonest and lacking in integrity. All school year, we've counseled JAM to ignore the general "teasing" and playing favorites that he describes. We've told him that not all teachers are going to be great, but that he needs to always be respectful and just do his work.

When he came downstairs a few minutes after going to bed last night, stood before us and choked out, "I'm sorry, but I just worked up the courage to tell you this," my heart stopped. He told us that he had gotten up to use the bathroom yesterday, only to be questioned by his teacher who told him that another male student had just left to use the bathroom. Then he dropped the bomb. "He said I was gay." My heart started beating again and threatened to pop out of my chest.

There's more to this story about other inappropriate things people have heard him say, or heard kids report that he has said, but at this point, we're simply in a JAM's word against his teacher's, who denies this completely. I would love to quit my job and spend every minute in this man's classroom, every single freaking day, just to prevent something like this from ever happening again.

Over the course of the last few months, I've showed JAM some online videos that address the use of the word gay as a slur. I showed him Ellen DeGeneres' fabulous monologue about her job as spokesperson for JCPenney. I've talked to him about my support for gay marriage. I've told him that I have friends who just want the right to marry the person who they love, the person they're building a life with, just as his father and I have the right to do. I've emphasized the importance of never using the word gay in a derogatory way. This is one of those basics to me about treating people with respect. To think that he then has it thrown at him as a taunt, by a teacher, no less. Disgust.

My opinion of this teacher has steadily decreased this school year as JAM continued to tell us of his mannerisms and ways of communicating and interacting with the class. If he likes you, you're golden. Unfortunately, he clearly does not like JAM. And our multiple meetings with him to address JAM's special needs and appropriate accommodations (legally required by his 504 plan), have always left us feeling like he'll say what he needs to say in front of his higher-ups, but that he truly does not regard JAM's ADHD as something real, and that he'll continue to do as he likes in his own classroom.

Needless to say, we're in a state of disbelief that this is the situation we're facing right now as parents. JAM has no other option but to stay in this man's class, since he's the only teacher of that particular grade level subject. I'm sick at the thought of the first time JAM has to face him tomorrow. I hate that I have to let my eleven year old child face this.

These are some entirely shitty facts of life: Some people misuse positions of power. Some people get away with reprehensible behavior. Sometimes life is so inherently unfair.

But, I can't help but applaud him for working up the courage to tell us. He told me today that he figured out why he was afraid to tell us. "Telling you that a kid said something bad to me is one thing, but saying that a teacher said it... well, I was afraid I was going to get in trouble for telling." How is it that we enforce this idea to children that they are so much less worthy than the authority figures in their lives? I want him to always know that he can tell us anything, but I can also understand his fear. My husband and I let him know that we thought he was incredibly courageous to stand before his administrators and tell his story. Even if no disciplinary action can be taken, we at least have that to celebrate.

Unable to come up with a witty sign-off,

MTE reviews: Adora Calcium Supplement

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 03:35:00 +0000

I'm not as young as I used to be.

I have to keep reminding myself that there are things I have to think about now that I've joined the over 35 club. I know that big changes are in my future, and I should be taking some actions to prepare for them.

Since losing 50 pounds and getting into shape is a fairly complex task, I'm better off starting smaller. One area that could be easily addressed has to do with my vitamin intake. Yeah, I have a bottle of women's daily vitamins in the cabinet. Sure, I see them almost every morning, since I usually go into that cabinet during the morning routine.

Why don't I take them every morning, then?

Well, they're huge. They're a chore. Who likes chores?

Then along comes an offer to try out a calcium supplement. Okay. Oh, did I mention that it's a piece of chocolate? Yes, please.

It's Adora Calcium Supplement, and it's kind of awesome. I could share all the little details, like the fact that each piece has only 30 calories, no artificial sweeteners, and 500 mg of calcium (50% daily value!). There's so much more, and it's all conveniently answered on Adora's FAQ page!

But really, how much do you need to know? We know that women need to increase our calcium intake as we get older, but I may be behind the game even on that. According to the information provided by Adora, "85% of adult bone mass is acquired by age 18 in girls" and most folks don't get the recommended dose of daily calcium as it is.

I've been eating one to two pieces of Adora (almost) every day now for the last couple of weeks. (There may have been a rough day where I consumed three. Shhh.) Never before have I wanted to take more vitamins. I've tried both the milk chocolate and dark chocolate flavors, and they're both delicious. As in, chocolate candy delicious. I personally prefer the milk chocolate flavor, but the dark satisfies my chocolate love just as well.

I'm not sure what else to say, honestly. If you take two of these chocolate pieces a day, you get 1000 mg of calcium, in addition to whatever other calcium is in the foods you consume regularly, and you get a tasty little treat as a bonus. Score!

When my two bags get low, I know I'll be looking for more Adora Calcium Supplements at the store. Seriously, I know that sounds cheesy, but I can't think of a reason not to. I'm happy to see Wegman's on the list of retailers posted on the site, but even if I can't find it there, I could always go the route of ordering it online directly from the company, housed in my home state of CT.

You know it's serious for me, too, when I like it on Facebook. I know I sound silly, but people, we're talking about getting an important vitamin by eating a piece of chocolate!

**Disclosure: I was provided two complimentary bags of Adora Calcium Supplements. All chocolate loving opinions expressed here are my own.

Looking forward to my morning vitamin,

now posting (ir)regularly

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 18:03:00 +0000

Remember when Wednesdays used to see me publicly declaring my love for all things NPR? It's something I think about quite often, but since my return to full-time work in the fall, my NPR consumption has gone way, way down.

This week, though, is Spring Break, which has my kitchen radio getting some attention during the daytime hours. As a result, I have a few NPR stories I'd love to share with you this week in a temporary revival of my old feature. I've been especially appreciative of the stories and commentary NPR has been running on the atrocious killing of Trayvon Martin in Florida, where the so called "shoot first, ask questions later"law astounds and disgusts me.

"A Talk To Remind You Of What You Believe In" -- I adored this commentary by Gwen Thompkins on Morning Edition from two weeks ago. I can't say that I'm terribly skilled at talking- and listening- to those who hold opposing political views, so that made this piece all the more appropriate for me. And many others, I'm sure.

"Medical Innovations Can Come At A Cost"-- I gotta say that I bristled at this story on All Things Considered the other day as I folded clothing. The most important point of the story is how costs are recouped for some (imho unnecessary) technologies by charging more for other procedures, etc. I look at my EOB (explanation of benefits) forms from our insurance companies like a hawk, and I'm regularly astounded by the discrepancy between what the doctors and hospitals charge the insurance company and what the insurance company "allows" or will pay. It's ridiculous. I'm thankful every damn day that we have health insurance, and I can't imagine how much of a struggle it is for anyone who does not.

"Trayvon Martin: The Lingering Memory Of Dead Boys"-- This essay by Tayari Jones aired on All Things Considered, and it is powerful stuff. I shed tears while listening, and my heart aches for Martin's family. I literally cannot fathom the possibility that Martin's killer will not be arrested and prosecuted.

"Clue In Old Photo Leads To New Search For Amelia Earhart's Plane" -- Also from All Things Considered, this story even caught Red's ears, who addressed me and her younger brother, "Did they just say Amelia Earhart? Remember, the lady the boy meets in The Night at the Museum!" Wow, how I hope they find her wreckage- what history!

"Social Media Put Fla. Case In National Spotlight" -- I am one of the many folks who was first alerted to the Trayvon Martin story through social media. This Morning Edition piece highlights how social media played a role in informing the world of this horror story. One of the ways it can be used for good.

"Confronting The VP May Be Impolite. Is It A Crime?" -- Even talking about the case that is detailed in this Morning Edition piece right after the Martin shooting incident is damn frustrating. This guy said words to the VP, then got arrested. The man in Florida shot Martin, and hasn't had handcuffs touch his skin. Ridiculous. Juxtaposing these two cases makes my stomach hurt.

Lots of frustration with the news this week, but informed frustration is better than ignorance, in my opinion.

Thanks, as always, NPR,

adventures in eyebrow maintenance

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 19:31:00 +0000

It seems there's yet another item to add to the ever-growing list of Ways in Which I Fail at Womanhood. I fail at growing nails (sadly, I've already blogged about that), I've got cracked and calloused hands that could rival a dock worker's (again, blogged about it with bonus photographic evidence), and I really don't know what to do with make-up beyond eyeliner and mascara.

Womanhood Fail.

One other item to add to this (admittedly silly and trivial) list has to do with my eyebrows. Seemingly, the eyebrows should be one part of our appearance that we don't need to give much attention. At least, that's what I used to think. Twelve years ago, I had my eyebrows waxed for the very first time. I remember it well, because I was hugely pregnant with JAM, and I had gone with some friends from work to a local salon. We all got waxed by a man who would become my favorite hairstylist in the entire world (but who would, years later, become so good and move to such a foofy place that I could no longer afford his magic).

When it was my turn in the chair, he used the little brush to get the wilderness that I called eyebrows into a general shape. I admitted to occasionally plucking them, but with little to no understanding of what I was doing. He clucked a bit (this guy does not mince words, I tell ya), but then he said a few words that suddenly felt like the biggest compliment ever. "You have great eyebrows. Beautiful, natural shape and arch." He assured me that with a little shaping, they were going to be gorgeous.

Now remember, I was about 17 months pregnant at this point, about 150 pounds heavier than usual, so any even mildly kind words thrown my way would have made my heart sing. I was confident that I would leave that salon 1000% more attractive than I entered. I had beautiful eyebrows, after all.

Yes, I did see a remarkable difference when he did whatever voodoo he does so well. However he determined the right "shape," it was magical. For years, I tried to keep it up, going to see him whenever I could. I cheated on him a couple times, some with fine outcomes, others that left me looking perpetually surprised.

Then it all stopped. I had three kids, no income, and no time. I took to grabbing the tweezers myself and attempting to find that elusive beautiful shape. It was lost. I think I got a little pluck-happy. Then my eyebrow hairs must have gotten pissed and decided to take revenge on me by popping out in places farther and farther away from their original spots. So, I plucked more.

Thus began the saga of the disappearing eyebrows. I would pluck, my bathroom sink would be dotted with little brown hairs, and the space above my eyes would become larger than ever.

I'm tired of looking surprised. So it begins now. The Great Eyebrow Grow Out. I've vowed to leave the tweezers in the drawer (except when it comes to the stray chin hairs that I have my Spanish grandmother to thank for). I'm willing to look like a shaggy, unkempt woman (more than usual) for as long as it takes to get all the eyebrow hairs accounted for. Once they're all in place, then it's back to the professionals.

Maybe, just maybe, that beautiful shape can be found again. We shall see.

I'm going the brave blogger route right now, and sharing photographic documentation for week one. Remember, we're focusing on the shaggy eyebrows, not the deep forehead wrinkles, crow's feet, or old lady freckles here.

This is tame, compared to what I predict they will look like in two weeks' time. I'm not sure how long this fabulous little experiment will take, but I'll happily put aside all personal shame and continue to publicly share the progress pics.

Happy to think about something so trivial for now,

spring break is lovely, but can someone do something about the stinky trees?

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 01:19:00 +0000

You know what happens when work gets crazy busy? Well, blogging is notably what does not happen, as you can see by my 17 day bloggy absence. But that's all about to change, because this is a blessed week, officially referred to as "Spring Break, baby!" around these parts.

Sadly, there are no tropical locales in which we'll be spending this week, and realistically, I'll probably be working harder than ever between the school to do list and my freelancing to do list, along with the piled up home tasks that are screaming out for me to address them while I'm home for nine consecutive days.

Sigh.

But, it's all about balance, right? Since I've never been too skilled in that area, it's always a challenge, but I'm trying to mark off times of the day to do work-work, house-work, and writing-work, and then other times to just hang with Red and Pudge, who are home with me since my school is their school, too. (Poor JAM, who doesn't share a spring break with anyone. I believe he'll be my assistant at school for at least one day during his week!)

Today, the weather continued its eerily-warm trend, with the temperatures into the 70s, maybe even hitting 80. It's bizarre, and quite honestly, I'm finding that even as I'm enjoying the sensation of dressing for summer in March, I can't shake that feeling of impending doom in the pit of my stomach in reaction to 80 DEGREE TEMPERATURES IN MARCH.

Ahem.

Anyway. Pudge, Red, and I brought lunch down to a playground down the road. Even Red understood the significance of the act, for as we strolled she commented, "Wow. We haven't gone to this playground since like, last summer!" Yeah, sweetie. Life certainly took a different course after the summer, that's for sure.

Well, it was to be all lovely and fun and fabulous, for the kids were in cheerful moods, happy to be the other's playmate. The sun was shining. It was relatively quiet in the 'hood, with the county schools still in session. Just perfect.

Except for those damn trees.

Look, aren't they beautiful? For the first couple of weeks every spring, all the streets in our neighborhood suddenly look alive, as many trees burst into bloom literally overnight. The clumps of little white flowers bring a sudden lightness after a dark, dark winter. It's quite a wondrous sight.

As long as your windows are closed, that is.

Pop over to google and type in "tree that " and you will likely see one of the drop down suggestions-- "tree that smells like sperm"-- and that is what I'm talking about folks. Follow that google search, and you'll also see that I'm among many (about 406,000) folks who are trying to figure out why their neighborhood suddenly smells... seedy... or who are complaining about the stench. Among my favorite findings from that search is from The Frisky, where the author does not mince words in the least.

Honestly, it's overwhelming. The other day, as we got off the bus the odor hit us all like a wall; so much so, that even the kids were complaining, "What is that terrible smell?!"

Today, that stench made me want to wash out my nostrils. It made me gag, ever-so-slightly, and as you sit outside, the smell comes and goes in waves.

(Jeez, I'm not even trying to be salacious in my word choices. It's just too easy...)

If you're ever involved in neighborhood planning, please listen to me and avoid planting Bradford Pear trees at all costs. Yes, they're beautiful, but so are many other types of trees that don't leave you feeling dirty in your nasal passages when you go outdoors.

Since there's no good way to segue from talking about semen-smelling-trees to returning the topic to one's delightful children playing outdoors, let's just suffice it to say that our time at the playground was enjoyed by all. (Except for my nostrils, that is.)

Instead of sinking my toes into some warm sand on a sunny beach, I luxuriated in the rubber mulch of the playground. The kids were thrilled to be on the swings, and they quickly remembered their favorite theme of play at this particular playground as the climber once again became a pirate ship with them at the helm. Lunch was consumed happily, and entertainment was provided by a curious bee who kept hovering nearby. (And who was the subject of my latest google searching, not dirty this time, yielding some fun info about the Eastern carpenter bee that I've added to my wealth of buggy knowledge!)

Best yet, there wasn't much trouble when I declared it time to depart. The silly brother and sister combo, only 18 months apart in age, walked ahead of me, chatting and giggling as they are wont to do. I grabbed the camera just in time to document this moment in time, when all was good in their world, enjoying a Spring Break day together.

Betting you're happy this blog isn't coming to you in smell-o-vision,

evidence that Dawn & L.A. make for an odd, odd combination

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 05:00:00 +0000

First off, let's take a moment to wish a happy birthday to one of the most beloved children's authors of all times, Dr. Seuss. Today, 108 years ago, Theodor Geisel was born, and after a successful career in other fields, he became known for his distinctive illustrations and rhyming schemes that involved wacky, made-up words instantly loved by children. Thank you, Dr. Seuss!

So, on this day, as we Read Across America, watch PBS KIDS' newest programming based on a Dr. Seuss iconic character, read my favorite Seuss book The Lorax, or head to the theater for the movie release of The Lorax, we'll be keeping Dr. Seuss in mind.

You know, because I've done nothing but blab all about it, that I recently went out to Los Angeles to preview the movie, hang with some super cool parenting bloggers, and participate in roundtable interviews with some of the film's stars. Yeah, it was incredible.

But there were some highlights of the trip that I have yet to bring to bloggy light. I can't say that they're highbrow thoughts in the least, but they are some things that will stick in my memory. Sadly, some of these memories cannot be illustrated with a photograph either because I didn't have the balls to take a picture in the moment or because of the stupid mistake I made of deleting some pics from my memory card.

Here, in no particular order, are some memories/ experiences of note/ oddities observed by an average East Coast mama dropped into a foreign culture, a sort of Connecticut Yankee in an odd updated King Arthur's court.

Before I even left Baltimore, I experienced my first L.A. moment when I spied two of my flight-mates. They prompted this airport-wifi-enabled Facebook status: "My people-watching session begins with a bang when a 40-something woman, clearly a CA kind of gal, sits nearby with her ~8 year old daughter. Both have on the same amount of eyeliner." I didn't even mention the animal print pants, the loose/messy bun atop her head, and the adult-like mannerisms that totally freaked me out. I had to move my seat in the airport so that I would stop staring at them. This was one of those inopportune moments for photography.

Though I may feel odd about folks waiting on me, I could seriously get used to room service. Here would be a great spot to show you the fabulous lunch I ordered upon settling in to my freaking beautiful room at the Four Seasons, all laid out on a white tableclothed tray, with The Help cued up on the gigantic flat screen across from the bed. In related news, I ate heaven in pork form, as apple-smoked bacon that was in-CRED-ible.

I now have the constant urge to wear my fluffy Lorax mustache everywhere, and it began in L.A. I wanted to simply don it while waiting in the airport heading home, just to see what would happen. Truth be told, I was wearing it while writing the first few paragraphs of this post.

The Four Seasons Los Angeles must employ some super secret, top notch mattress engineers because that bed is the most comfortable thing I've ever slept on. No aching back in the morning is an almost unheard of experience in my regular IKEA-bed-life, and that cloud of a Four Seasons bed was the reason. After leaving that Brad Pitt of beds, I was forced to return to my Brad Garrett version. It's just not the same.

My experiences with airplanes can be counted on fewer fingers than I'm in total possession of, so I'm easily amused with the view from the sky. Not sure if this is the closest I'll ever get to The Rockies, but it was cool enough that I shed my anxiety about being viewed as a dork and sat with my camera poised at my little window.

I'm also just as easily amused with silent actors in costume, for I cheesed it up in the photo ops with The Lorax himself. I believe I may have pet him, as if he were the actual fictional character. I also made a point of stroking the Truffula Trees you see in the background. I was apparently without shame.

And, I also decided that when presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity, I can shove my nerves down far enough to go for broke. That is how I'm now 2 for 2 on having a "moment" with one of the actors at the junkets I've been honored to attend. Last year, it was the kiss (on the cheek, don't you worry!) from Russell Brand that turned my face tomato-red, and this year it was the hug I'll always treasure from Betty White. I start the story here, but I didn't go into too much detail about the minutes after the hug, when our group was finished with interviews and I turned into a weepy mess. Yup, I couldn't stop crying, and whenever someone said in surprise, "Are you crying?!" it only made matters worse. It was Betty White. BETTY WHITE, people! The laughs I've experienced throughout my life because of a line she's delivered are impossible to tally. She's a genius when it comes to comic timing and delivery. I'd love to have just an ounce of her comedic talent, and I went for broke when I asked her if I could have a hug. My tears were very much called for.

Betty White and me. And me. And me. (You see what happens when Picnik and silliness collide?)

And finally, there is apparently a magic in the tap waters of Los Angeles. For when I awoke on the morning of the junket-- forever to be known as The Day Betty White Hugged Little Ol' Me-- I was greeted in the mirror by this strange, faux-hawked, spectacled animal.

Since I have no shame, as I mentioned before, this picture was immediately put on Facebook.

Thinking that this appearance would never be allowed on the Universal Studios lot, I tried my best to gussy up. The best that I could muster was this.

My feeble attempt at striking a pose.

After three days of living it up, I was back on a plane, in Boarding Group A, no less. (They must have heard that I was hugged by Betty White and saw to it that I board with the Important People.) It only took a day or so for me to realize I should stop looking for an iPad on a desk somewhere in my house on which I could order food that would be delivered to my door. Coming back to reality can be fairly harsh in cases such as these. Instead of sitting two chairs away from Ed Helms or Danny DeVito or Betty White (did I mention she was there?), I was once again seated in front of eighteen preschoolers looking up to me at story time. Strangely enough, they didn't look that much younger than Zac Efron had a couple days earlier.

So there you have it, the very last bit that I'll talk about L.A. I've been insufferable, I know, but really, this is one of those things that I'm going to want to remember someday, and now I have the documentation to show that I was talking about hugging a Golden Girl way back in 2012.

I don't know if another opportunity like this will present itself again, so I'm content to bask in the glory of this year's trip for a little while more. But I do promise to quit blogging about it, rest assured! Well, there may be photos of the kids in their bright orange shirts after we go see The Lorax in the theater together this weekend, but other than that, I do believe my work here is done.

Starstruck and in love with Betty White,

the story behind the story of The Lorax

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 05:00:00 +0000

Okay, okay. I'm almost done talking about my incredible twice-in-a-lifetime (just so far??) opportunity to fly to L.A. for a parenting blogger junket. It's been a couple weeks since I got to see The Lorax and interview some of the stars (Danny DeVito and Betty White! holy cow! Ed Helms and Rob Riggle!), and I'm looking forward to taking my family to see it again when it releases this weekend.

Beyond the incredible Hollywood experience, for this trip, at the heart of all of it was one of my very favorite pieces of children's literature. For that reason, the two posts that I loved writing the most revolved around the transformation of the story from the page to film. Over on 5 Minutes for Books, we have a regular feature called "Books on Screen" just for this topic, and you can read my part one from last week here-- Books on Screen: Dr. Seuss' The Lorax and today's part two-- Books on Screen: More on Dr. Seuss' The Lorax.

I talk a bit in today's post about the interviews with the producer, director, and screenwriters of the film, and how they see the "message" of the film. Since Audrey Geisel, Dr. Seuss' widow, was an executive producer on the film, she had final say over everything-- story expansion, new characters, script, design, everything. I also share a quote from her that I read in the production packet Universal gave us bloggers, in which she states of the movie, "I think Ted would be quite proud."

Well, that wasn't the only gem that I read in the production packet. I can't help but share with you this rather longish quote from the packet, because if you love the book The Lorax as much as I do, then I know you'll appreciate the back story.

I did know that Ted Geisel wasn't always known as Dr. Seuss, for before writing children's books, he was an advertising artist and political cartoonist. The production packet quoted an essay he published in 1960, explaining the allure of writing for children:

"Children's reading and children's thinking are the rock-bottom base upon which this country will rise. Or not rise. In these days of tension and confusion, writers are beginning to realize that books for children have a greater potential for good or evil than any other form of literature on Earth."

Beautiful, right?!

I loved that quote, and this next part is too good to not share. Without further ado, read all about how The Lorax came to be:

"In September 1970, hoping to alleviate her husband's writer's block and channel his frustration at the overconsumption he found in his community, Audrey Geisel suggested that they take a trip to East Africa. It was on this trip, after watching a herd of elephants walk across the African mountains of the Serengeti, that he found the inspiration to write THE LORAX. Seuss wrote 90 percent of the book that afternoon on the only piece of paper he had within reach, a laundry list.

Seuss' writing is inextricably linked to his artwork, and the trees of the Serengeti inspried the book's silk-tufted Truffula Trees. For the first time in his books, Seuss shifted the color palette in THE LORAX from primary colors to a look that was mauve, plum, purple, and even sage green. Seuss attributed this change in color to encouragement from his wife, and as a tribute to her inspiration, he dedicated THE LORAX to Audrey and her two daughters, Lark and Lea."

Chills, people. Chills.

Now, there's one additional piece that I can't not address. The Lorax movie is a big budget, big studio, big-name production, and as such, it's getting BIG TIME advertising. And product connections. It's basically everywhere. As a result, it's getting a whole lot of flack about the inherent message against overconsumption and the linkage to everything from the NEA to Mazda to IHOP. I have to admit that I have very mixed feelings about this. I see the obvious contradictions, clearly. But, I also have a realistic view on how things work with big movies, and this is how advertising works. Perhaps it's a bit of a cop-out to sit on both sides of the fence on this one, but I'm not sure that one side is absolutely right, for I do see both perspectives.

The best that I can take away from it all is the small scale. I know that Red, my five year old daughter, has become more interested recently in "being green," due in large part to the efforts of a teacher at our school who has worked closely with the kindergarten class in the process of getting our school declared a "Green School" by an organization that just happens to be slipping my mind right now. She has become fastidious about turning off unnecessary lights and being sure to recycle everything possible. The most recent times we've read The Lorax together, she seems to be understanding more and more about the story's message than ever before. Surely, watching the film depiction will only serve to strengthen her growing concern about the importance of these matters. That's as far as the movie experience will go for us, and I see it only in a positive light in this small scale.

Either way, whether or not you choose to see the new movie, I hope you share in my belief that Dr. Seuss created a timeless and lasting story that is both entertaining and thought-provoking in The Lorax. And as we celebrate the fabulous Dr. Seuss this week on my little piece of the web, I thank him with all my heart for doing so.

Always in awe of Seuss,

NEA and Read Across America, grab a book and join in!

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Every March 2, the National Education Association (NEA) celebrates the joy of reading on Dr. Seuss' birthday, and the Cat in the Hat serves as the honorary spokescat of sorts. His image will always instantly bring to mind the silly rhymes and unmistakeable illustrative style of Dr. Seuss.

It all began back in 1997, when some folks at the NEA came up with the idea to create a day for the celebration of reading. Who better to honor with this holiday than Theodor Seuss Geisel, the beloved children's author whose books have entertained children all over the entire world? The first "Read Across America" day was celebrated on March 2, 1998, which just happened to be during the first year that I taught preschool!

Over the years since, I've celebrated this day with preschool classes and with my own children. Back in 2009, after bloggily declaring The Lorax as my favorite of all Dr. Seuss books, I shared my thoughts on another Dr. Seuss book that I love, though it does differ from his other works. In 2010, Red and I tried our hands at making a paper Cat in the Hat hat of our own (don't judge my lack-of-craftiness skills), and her gigantic smile perfectly depicts how much we love books in our family. Last year, I interviewed each child about why he or she loves reading, and their responses made me smile then, and now.

This year, we'll all be in school on March 2, and thankfully for all three kids and me, reading is definitely valued in our respective classrooms. I'll be sharing stories with my preschool class, as always, and I think we'll have to fit in at least one Dr. Seuss story to stay in the spirit of the day. Red, Pudge, and JAM will all spend time on Friday, like every day, hearing stories read aloud, and reading and looking at books independently.

I cannot imagine a life without reading for pleasure, for myself and for my children. I'm happy to place an even brighter spotlight on the joy of reading on March 2, and I encourage everyone to don those red and white striped hats and join the Cat, Things 1 and 2, the Lorax, the Once-ler, and even Marvin K. Mooney, along with all the other unforgettable characters in a day of reading dedicated to the memory of Dr. Seuss.

For activity ideas, head over to Seussville.com's Read Across America page!

Usually with a book in hand,

MTE reviews: The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That!

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 02:35:00 +0000

It's day two of Dr. Seuss week, as I count down the days until the 108th birthday of the brilliant Theodor Seuss Geisel. As a mom and a preschool teacher, I can attest to the joy that Dr. Seuss's books bring to children's lives. Yesterday, I shamelessly promoted some pieces I wrote about the upcoming The Lorax movie, and there will be more to come about the movie before it opens on Friday.

In the meantime, though, there's more Dr. Seuss fun to be had every day over on the incomparable PBS KIDS. Featuring the instantly recognizable voice of Martin Short as the iconic red-and-white-striped hat wearing feline, The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That! has been on the air since September 2010 and has been a hit since the beginning. The emphasis with this show is on inquiry and exploration, as a young boy and girl, Nick and Sally, go, go, go, go on adventures with the lovable and curious Cat in the Hat.

I appreciate the basic concept of this show, for these are very important skills for young children to develop, and as an early childhood educator, they also form the basis of the constructivist curriculum with which I work every day. As a parent, I allow a certain amount of television in my children's lives, and I'm happy when they enjoy programming that encourages them to think about the world around them. The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That! is exactly that type of show.

In celebration of Dr. Seuss' 108th birthday on Friday, March 2, PBS stations across the nation will be airing a The Cat-in-the-Hat-a-Thon, a two-hour marathon of The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That!. This marathon will feature two previously aired episodes in addition to two brand new ones, and you should hop over to check your own local listings to find out the exact times.

I was recently sent a screener of the two brand new episodes-- "Seasons - Spring and Summer/ Seasons - Fall and Winter" and "When I Grow Up/ Doing Things Differently." Red (5) and Pudge (4) were my test audience, and as with other episodes of The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That!, they giggled and sang along the entire time. I have to say that of the four segments, the overwhelming favorite was "When I Grow Up," but if I tell you why, it'll give away the surprise ending! (Okay, I'm pretty sure you, the adult reading this, will be able to figure out the ending early on, so let me say that Red has a little bit of a fascination with the platypus, making this episode very, very appealing!)

Are you looking for a way to celebrate (the proclaimed-by-me) Dr. Seuss week like me and my crew? Tune in to PBS KIDS on Friday, March 2nd for the marathon of fun, curiosity-encouraging episodes of The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That! Feel free to sing a round of Happy Birthday to Dr. Seuss himself after the marathon is finished!

**Disclosure: I was provided a complimentary screener DVD featuring the two new episodes of The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That! All opinions expressed here are my own.

Always ready to go, go, go, go on an adventure,

happy 108, Dr. Seuss!

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Tue, 28 Feb 2012 03:38:00 +0000

Happy Monday of Dr. Seuss week, folks! Yup, I'm declaring this week the perfect time to devote five consecutive days to celebrating the works of Theodor Seuss Geisel. Friday, March 2, will mark the 108th anniversary of his birth, and there is honestly so much going on all around now that is keeping his memory and spirit alive.

Each day this week, I'll share another fun tidbit about Dr. Seuss's books that I adore, and of course, I'll give you my thoughts about some of the new media that's being produced based on Seuss' classics. Though he's no longer with us, it's clear that the beauty of his legacy will never go away.

An easy way to start off the week is to send you in the direction of three posts I've already written about the movie The Lorax, releasing on Friday. I had the incredible opportunity to attend a parenting blogger event in which we watched the movie and even interviewed some of the "talent" involved in the film. (Listen to me sounding all LA, huh?) I really did love the movie, and that's not just the staying-at-the-Four-Seasons, getting-hugged-by-Betty-White part of the experience talking.

Wondering about how the classic book stands up in the film translation? Head over to my 5 Minutes for Books post Books on Screen: Dr. Seuss' The Lorax.

Curious about how Ed Helms and Rob Riggle played off each other in our group interview? Yeah, they're really freaking funny, as I attest to in my 5 Minutes for Mom post Ed Helms and Rob Riggle Deliver Big Laughs in The Lorax.

Bet you could never guess what Danny DeVito likes to tweet about. And, in case you haven't heard, Betty White made me cry. Read all about it in my 5 Minutes for Mom piece Danny DeVito and Betty White, Perfectly Suited for The Lorax.

I promise you there will be more than just shameless self-promotion this week. I learned some new things about Dr. Seuss from the production notes we were given, as well as during our interview with the screenwriters of The Lorax. There are other fun things coming up for you parents of little ones, and I want to make sure you're prepared to celebrate Dr. Seuss week along with me!

Time for some Seussian smiles this week,

bus blogging, chapter seven

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 22:05:00 +0000

A bus with wi-fi! A bus ride sans children! It's a good turn of fate this afternoon, it would seem. After a morning spent play-acting teacher (not really teaching students, but meeting with next year's potential families and talking about being a teacher), and an afternoon spent preparing to be watched under a microscope tomorrow (when our school is visited for re-accreditation by the big organization that does such things), it would be truly cathartic to blog right about now.

But I can't. Sadly, I'm a bit too public to sometimes say what I really think on my little space of the Interwebs, so I cannot complain or bitch or speak my mind on some subjects. Others, I have no problem with (hello, politics and religion, there you are!), but work has to be off limits.

I can tell you that I have the most fabulously prepared classroom ever, and that I'm so damn ready to have tomorrow behind me. Just come, watch me if you're going to watch me, and get it done with.

In balancing my real life work and my online work, I'll have to start tapping away at my laptop keys in full force soon, as I still have so much to tell about the LA trip, and The Lorax. Of course, the posts you'll see me linking to over at 5 Minutes for Mom and 5 Minutes for Books will have a much more professional feel than the silliness I have planned for here. I have it all set in my head, and hopefully it will be as funny to anyone out there as it is to me!

For tonight, though, I'm ready to leave both real life work and online work behind me, to go pick up my kids who I'm just not accustomed to being away from all day!

Enjoying a quiet bus ride for once,

week's end

noreply@blogger.com (morninglight mama) — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 03:14:00 +0000

The banter on Friday mornings at workplaces all across the country, I assume, is similar to what I experience on a weekly basis.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

I don't really know how to answer this one usually. Is this asked at the same level as the perfunctory, "How are you?" that is socially expected and routinely answered with a friendly, yet vaguely meaningless, "I'm fine. You?" If it is, then should I respond with a simple, "Just family time, the usual."

I think that I throw some people off with my as-of-late response, "Oh, the fabulously exciting prospect of doing laundry, vacuuming, and scrubbing toilets awaits me on this two-day 'holiday' from the work week. And you?"

Let's be honest. An estimated 90% of the time, our weekends look the same. Our Friday nights are usually the lovely mix of hanging with our closest pals, trying to have adult conversation while our collective mass of children take individual turns trying to be the craziest. (Ours win. A lot.)

So, Fridays are the usual highlight of the weekend. Especially if there are fried wonton from the good Chinese restaurant near their house involved. After that, the weekend is usually a flurry of the housekeeping tasks that pile up in need over the course of the week. This weekend has been no different.

But, I did think (like a blogger) to take some snapshots of the great fun that awaited me on Saturday. Let's go to the images, shall we?

I'm assuming this is normal for a child's bathroom, right? Clearly, there is a high-level threat that these guys are aware of and the kids' bathroom is in need of serious protection.

What's this? Mount Laundry looks insanely small this week due to Hubby's thoughtful mid-week laundering skills in action. SCORE!

Oh wait. There you are. There's never a shortage of dirty clothes 'round these parts.

I get to hang out with my friends, though, so there is that. See, they're all very close.

And, my brain gets a work out all weekend long, trying to figure out life's big questions, like this one: Why the hell do they NEVER CLOSE THE FREAKING DRAWERS?

And then there's this. Hubby and I have the great, huge responsibilities of making sure the couch doesn't run off and clearing the DVR for another week of comedic recordings. And Facebook. Don't ever forget the Facebook.

So, weekends are gloriously predictable and full of routine and responsibility. Just not sure if all of this is appropriate fare for responses to those Friday morning queries.

Six more days until the joy starts again,