Archive for the ‘kids’ Category


An honest question

January 24, 2008

“Mom, why don’t you teach anymore?”

“Because then I couldn’t drive you to school in the morning. And I’d have to grade papers all night.”

“Oh. But you could teach at my school if you wanted to.”

“Yes, honey. I could.” (If they’d have me, I add to myself — sixth grade — I might be able to teach sixth grade.)


Do you think he meant an *actual* report card?

December 12, 2007

There is nothing Babs loves so much as power. It is like crack for her. Super crack, in fact. She nearly starts shaking with the sheer glory of it all.

So when Jon told her that she should report back to him on LJ’s behavior the other night while he was out playing, she got that crack jones look in her eye like I’ve never seen before. Her eyes were as big as saucers, drinking it all in, hoping beyond all hope that he was serious. He was.

Because of this, throughout the night she ran back and forth from her and LJ’s antics to this napkin, words spilling over to a second napkin that has thankfully been misplaced.

Along with any need you may have to break a perfectly good piano, if you need a pint-sized gestapo for some special reconnaissance mission you’ve got going, I’ve got your girl.

And, because it took me a minute to figure it out, “adawlts” is adults. Bless her for remembering us.

One last thought: that she would call someone else “bossy” completely cracks me up.



Updates, addendums and an offer

November 17, 2007

I found out last night that it’s going to cost more to fix the pedal on the piano than it cost to purchase the entire 100-year-old, hand-carved, upright grand that was so well crafted that the piano tuner compared it to a Steinway.

I am cranky about this. That’s my Disneyland money. And it doesn’t help that there is no remorse or understanding on behalf of a certain co-conspirator.

In other disappointing news, while Costco baklava is the closest thing to ambrosia I have found, their phyllo puff pastries definitely get a thumbs down from yours truly.

And the offer: If anyone needs anything expensive broken, I have two eight-year olds for hire.


Because, according to Bab’s principal, not all of us can be followers

November 10, 2007

Babs is in the red with the white tights, and I post this little clip for you because of the incident near the end. My reaction is caught on tape, and the reaction of Bab’s principal, a marvelously gracious woman, is captured in the title of this post. God bless her for finding the good in Bab’s antics.

I hadn’t realized until watching the video that the love of my life had shoved the girl next to her for any specific reason, other than to speed her up.

“On further review,” said in my best NFL referee voice, I realize that Babs was itching for one more run down the pipe before the music ended.

That girl. How one person ended up with so much spirit and fire is beyond me. What a woman.


Music that speaks to my melancholy

October 31, 2007

Several weeks ago, a friend asked what music speaks to my melancholy. At the time I was feeling quite melancholy indeed, realizing that my little family, in its entirety, wouldn’t be together for a couple of months.

Playing piano, while I’m certainly no virtuoso, has always been an outlet for me, and this time was no exception.

I will not be playing for a little while, however, because I can not seem to make the piano sound any kind of decent without a sustaining pedal. The piano repair man comes in two weeks to hopefully replace the pedal that Bab’s friend inadvertently dislocated from my much loved piano earlier this month when she chose to launch herself from the piano bench to the enormous bean bag across the room.


“What’s going on, girls?” I yelled from the bedroom where I was folding laundry, nervousness in my voice.

Together in perfect unison, the girls replied in that sing-song way that eight-year-olds have, “No-thing.”

“Oh, awesome,” I thought to myself. “No worries.” And I continued going about my business.

I didn’t even think to explore the potential ramifications of that very large crash until I sat down later at the piano to play and realized that my sustaining pedal was lying on the ground next to the piano, no longer attached and there was a rather large dent in the side of the bench. Fortunately, I am still bright enough to put two and two and one together.

It’s only a 100-year-old, hand-carved piano. I’m sure it will be fine. Just fine.

I, however, will not be able to take requests until then, but I have not forgotten that someday I am expected to play “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

Every girl needs a challenge, yes?

In the meantime, Autumn Leaves, the music that spoke to my melancholy early last month when I was missing LJ.

I can post it today because he’s home playing trains with Jon and everything is, once again, well in my world.


Growing up

October 15, 2007

I hugged and kissed my daughter goodbye this morning at school and watched her walk away, hoisting up her faux cheetah purse on her shoulder as she walked.

Her dad had forgotten her backpack, so her purse was all she had. She was completely fine with this.

I wish I could have captured that moment for you as she walked away, pulling the purse strap onto her shoulder — doing that little thing we women do with our shoulders as we hoist.

She’s growing up so fast.

It was her birthday over the weekend, and I’m feeling reflective.

I do love her so and hope she’ll forgive us for being very real, very imperfect parents.

From the archives, one (or four) of my favorite pictures of her as a little one, with my apologies for the terrible scanning. I simply must get a new one, but this will have to do for now.

These were the days (especially in the last photo) when the Princess Fairy would leave an Andes mint on her pillow every night and call at 8:30 to let her know it was time to go to bed.

Listening to us was sacrilege. Listening to the Princess Fairy was imperative.

I would give my life for this child.






A mother’s plea

September 26, 2007

Dear God,

Please send my husband home soon. I beg you. My daughter just took five inches worth of bangs in her left hand and a pair of scissors in her right. The result isn’t good. And I thought she was brushing her teeth. Good one, God.

Not laughing,

~ Angela

p.s. Must she add how cute she thinks it looks? It might look good on one of those girls on “America’s Next Top Model” when the rest of the hair is cut to match, but it looks more like a mullet on my daughter. Please send help soon. Thank you, oh you who continually seems to make jokes at my expense.