Just got my car back from the shop, where they’d had to replace the brake lines, pads, rotors, etc. Yay for working brakes. And to think that I drove around with leaky brake lines for how long?? Waaaay too long. It took a long time to get the car fixed, since the part that they needed is no longer in stock and is discontinued by Isuzu. Luckily Honda still makes the same part. I didn’t put it together before, but the problems that the auto industry have? Well they affect used car repair too, since the companies can’t afford to keep making parts for old cars. Not so great for me, since old cars is what we’re going to keep having for quite a while.

We’ve spent over $1000 on this old car so far this year– but that’s a lot less than buying a new car. Carla and Annie think we should get a hybrid. They would rather walk than pollute, but it would be even better if we could drive without polluting when we have to. I think it’s great that they have such a good grasp on this: their generation is the one that is going to be most affected by the planet’s status.

Sometimes I just feel guilty, though. I think that this may be the default setting for motherhood. Better to cheerfully grin and bear it, than be hangdog. Guilty? Yup, I sure am! I’m your mom after all! Tell it to your therapist, baby!

I remember sitting in the hospital just hours before going home, when Carla was a wee little babe on my lap. She was tiny and perfect (to my eyes) and I could see that I had my hands full. I started to think… and cry. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to go through middle school someday, baby!” I murmured to her tiny self.

Looking back, I know that was at least partially those wonderful post-partum hormones kicking in, but something larger is at play when you think of your children as they grow. After all, adoptive moms go through just as much worry and stress and guilt as any other mom. It’s the thought that your child will go through some kind of adversity, and the knowledge that though you are protecting your child as much as you can, you still will see the day when SOMETHING goes amiss.

This underarm odor thing is really normal, and I shouldn’t get worked up over it. But like any little thing, it sure is easy to be alarmed. It’s like a Check Engine light. I can tell something is up, but I don’t really know what to do. I don’t want to make a big deal about a little odor — and I don’t want her to feel like her natural body is icky. But on the other hand, I would hate for her to be teased or just uncomfortable with herself.

When she and I talked about the body odor thing, I brought it up as follows:

“I’d like for you to get a bath tonight. Or, maybe, 8 and a half is a good age to start taking short showers in the morning. That way, you’re nice and fresh for school.”

C: “NO SHOWERS! I HATE SHOWERS. They’re like standing in boiling water rain! NO!”

“OK, bath tonight, then, that’s fine. I noticed that your body is starting to grow and change some, and it’s normal for kids your age to have more body odor, so a bath will help.”

C: “Maybe I should start wearing deodorant.”

Since she’s the one who brought it up, I think I should maybe follow her lead. I will want to research this and find something in the natural products range. Just deodorant, and not antiperspirant.

If only getting my car to work right were as easy. Or solving the global climate crisis, for that matter.

Unfortunately, on the way home the Check Engine light came on. Great!

My mother buys stuff for my kids, then tells them over the phone that it’s a surprise, and that they can’t have it until they come visit. Then she tells them that they have to tell me & D that they want to visit her.

This blatant manipulation of my kids is so obnoxious. Luckily, my kids are relatively un-materialistic (for kids). They aren’t DYING to find out what they got, and they know that we’ll visit my mom when I am good and ready. Which is to say, we’ll go for Easter, like always. End of story.

Why must she be such a manipulative jerk? Really takes the glow off of an otherwise lovely day. Grrr!

Well, shoot, it turns out there ARE cats out there for whom a life of ease at our house is in fact, quite adequate.

A friend of a friend recently found herself needing to find a home for her cats. We took one of them, and we’re in the process of nursing her to better health. Saffron, the cat in question, is a small calico cat who is very, very skinny. The friend of a friend had to find her a new home because her (soon to be) ex husband was not taking care of the cats. So Saffron is clearly in need of some TLC. Wouldn’t you know, that Carla and Annie are VERY attentive cat mommies?

As for Mini, well, you snooze, you lose, Cat Lady. She’ll have to find another family for Mini – maybe one where the psychological profiles of the other cats are more suitable. Ahem.

Meanwhile, JOY of JOYS, we are being sued AGAIN by our City of Brotherly Love. I think they have figured out that suing us is a good way to collect “court fees” for cases that get dismissed and never even come before court. I am livid, though, at the accountant who this time caused us to get sued. Apparently, he did NOT file the taxes he’d prepared, as we’d thought. Grrr. Bad communication is not acceptable for CPA’s — if he wasn’t going to file our taxes he should have at least told us so.

At work, I’ve been working hard to help this one little boy. He’s so emotionally volatile – he will go from fine to SCREAMING BLOOD MURDER. When I talk to him about why he’s so angry, he tells me “it’s because my parents yell at me all the time. They’re just always mad at me, because I cry.” His parents are divorced, and there’s a step mom who seems really nice. I have met both his parents, and they both seem plenty nice as well. I have never seen them say anything even in a harsh voice to this kid. I suspect that his parents might be angry, but not at HIM. But little kids don’t always see things that way — they often think that everything is about them.

My heart? About a thousand little pieces on the floor. Not sure how to help him, other than to be kind, and listen, and remove him from the room when he’s getting upset with other kids. It is really doing damage to his friendships that he can’t resolve minor conflicts without screaming and crying. I’m not sure what to say to his parents, other than to report the facts — that he gets upset easily and is having trouble controlling anger. I wonder how his parents would take it if I suggested a nearby therapy-for-kids practice that I know.

<- BEGIN WHINY UNAPPRECIATIVE POST THAT NEGLECTS TO MENTION WHAT A VERY NICE XMAS THIS WAS ->
My mom has been staying with us since Christmas Eve — she arrived that afternoon. It has been a good visit, but my patience with her is growing thin.

She annoys the crap out of me.

Quite a while back, she promised my kids a trip to the American Girl Place in New York City. This glitzy store boasts floor after floor of overpriced dolls and accessories galore. You can also get your doll’s hair styled there, or bring her to the hospital for repairs. There is a theater as well as a restaurant where your doll gets to sit in a special chair at the table with you. And is served food. I kid you not.

We went to this fabulous place once before, and my mom bought each of my kids a doll. Carla got an Emily doll, and has enjoyed her immensely. She does take quite good care of Emily. Annie actually got two dolls — the Bitty Twins. These are sold together, and geared toward younger kids, so it seemed a good idea for Annie to get the twins. They are a handful, alright. I mean really, you have twice as many dolls to care for (four shoes to not lose!) and when you try to take them anywhere, both your hands are literally full. Just like real live twins!

Now it’s come to be time to go back there again, only this time mom’s not promising to get them more dolls. Just accessories for the dolls they already have. Sigh – please someone explain to me what the point of all this is?? It’s one thing to go there, for the experience, ONCE. We did that. Can we do something else fun in NYC this time?

I am all for taking my kids to the Big Apple and exposing them to culture, museums, Chinatown, or whatever. There is much good and funky and interesting in NYC. The American Girl Place? NOT SO MUCH.

Mother also wants us to go home with her tomorrow, stay over at her house, then drive into the city on Monday with her to go to the American Girl Place. NO THANKS WE JUST HAD A FIVE DAY VISIT AND YOU WANT ME TO GO AND EXTEND THAT AND STAY AT YOUR HOUSE ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?

So yeah. I told her, no thanks, I’d like to make it a day trip. We’ll meet you in NYC. Now we are making plans of how best to do this all, and she’s telling me do this, do that, don’t go this way, go that way. It is making me crazy. She tried to claim it was a long walk “because there are so many people.” Huh? It’s 1.2 miles — okay, that’s a pretty long walk — but unless the streets are absolutely jam packed, I don’t see what the number of people in the city has to do with the length of the walk.

If we get tired, we can always hail a cab. But why not give the walk a try, that’s all I am saying. There’s much to see along the way, including the Empire State Building and the New York Public Library. I would enjoy that. Ugh, but Mother keeps on nattering on about how we shouldn’t try to do that as a walk. It’s one thing to tell me ONCE but um… now, you’ve said, SHUT UP ALREADY. I had to leave the room.

Actually, I had another reason to leave the room, which was that I needed to visit the bathroom. So, okay, that’s fine. I walk away, heading for the stairs and she’s STILL GOING ON AND ON about the walk. To my husband. Who is sitting at the living room computer, looking up stuff on google maps. He says — haltingly– “Um. Pann isn’t in the room anymore, you know?”

To which she replies… “Oh I know… I’m just telling you… She’s like, you know, not with it.”

I hear this from upstairs. I am even more annoyed. The most clueless person that I know just called me “not with it.”

Grr.

I finally broke. I turned on the heat. It feels so good in the house, and I only put the thermostat up to SIXTY DEGREES! What a difference it makes. I also closed up all the windows, made sure the storm windows are down, and pulled two air conditioners out of windows to seal up a couple rooms.

It’s not, you know, toasty in here, but it’s MUCH more tolerable. 57 degrees? Ugh, too cold! 60 seems so warm by comparison.

So those of you who live here — be warned, it’s still PUT ON A SWEATER time. And NO leaving open the door to the front porch!

Is it the caffeine? I don’t know but I’m feeling hyperactive and jumpy. I need to do this, do that. Mind’s racing.

I just stopped home from school, having spent more time than I meant to at school. A homeless woman has come into our school, asking, please, could she use the bathroom. We said yes. 20 minutes later, she finally comes out, having not made it to the toilet in time, and having tried to clean up the bathroom floor with handsoap and toilet paper. She apologized. I appreciate that she tried to clean up. However, the bathroom reeked of human pee (from her body odor) and the floor was all sudsy from the handsoap. She left. I mopped, and disinfected the whole bathroom.

I can has Gold Star, Please?

This blog is getting neglected along with every damn thing else. Dishes. Laundry. It turns out that I’m 100% responsible for these things at home. Nobody else has to clean. Or cook. Or shop. I have to. Because I’m the one with all the free time. EPIC FAIL.

Why doesn’t this make sense to me, when it makes sense to everyone else?

I am so hyper and jumpy but also not productive.

Great Granny finally decided she’d stop driving and is giving us her car. It’s a 1996 Toyota Corolla with an incredibly low number of miles on it (<50,000). A few bangs here and there (thank god she's stopped driving it before she got hurt or hurt somebody!). So I have to take this car to the shop to have its inspection. We'll be taking over the insurance, registration, etc, pretty soon. Great! now we'll have two cars - which will make life more convenient for those times when the adults all have to have a car.

We’ve gotten by a long time with just the one car. I am proud of all the walking and biking that happened because of the one-car situation, and I hope I won’t stop doing that all together.

Gotta go. Bubblin’ over, and going to drive to the shop, leave the car there … and WALK home.

*EDITED*
Actually it’s a 1997 Toyota Corolla.
And I got to the shop too late to drop it off, and will try again on Wednesday.

Well, yes, I suppose it is. At least two people today mentioned to me how excited they were to hear all the different returns coming in. Georgia apparently prefers Obama.

I will vote in my state’s primary on April 22, so at that point, I guess I will have to make a decision for certain.

I think my earlier query concerning this primary is something of a trick question.  Our country is about equally sexist and racist, in my opinion, so that’s not really the best way of thinking about the primary.

I liked the question, though, because it was so in-your-face and a little outrageous.  But ultimately, there’s a certain flavor that the candidates have, and it has to taste right to the voters, and it can’t leave a bad after taste either. I think Hillary tastes pretty good, but then I start tasting the bitterness that is left by her voting for the war, and being so unapologetic about it, too.

It is a shame that many, many times we make our choices by determining what we don’t like about someone and then simply voting for the alternative. I think that is why Kerry “lost” (that, and the fact that the election was rigged). People didn’t have enough admiration for Kerry in his own right. I wanted him to win very much, but it wasn’t because I was enamored of the man; I just knew Bush would continue to do harm.

So I fear greatly what would happen in our country if we are triggered to fear and despise our own candidates. The Dems might be set up to lose the general election if it’s Hillary because she rubs so many people the wrong way. Or could it be that if Obama wins the primary, that spells disaster because fear and racism will mar his chances at the election.  Or will Karl Rove just screw with enough electronic voting machines that no matter what odds the Dems overcome, the winner will be McRomabee?

Fear and loathing, fear and loathing… not good things to base your winning strategy upon. And that’s why we see Hillary and Barack, treating each other fairly gently into the debate. Don’t want to help the real enemy out in making one or the other look bad.

I will absolutely, positively, vote for the person who wins the Democratic Primary. But in my heart of hearts, I’m actually hoping that person will be Barack Obama. I live in a neighborhood that is one of the most nicely integrated places in the U.S. While this doesn’t erase poverty, remove class boundaries, or make me coffee in the morning, it does make me feel warm and fuzzy because black children and white children can and do play together. Because they grow up and get married and have beautiful babies and these children can live in a place where it’s not weird to have one parent with creamy white skin, and another with beautiful, rich chocolate tones. In this neighborhood, I feel like we will almost all cheer and be filled with pride to see a man of color enter the white house. To me, this represents something more than having a woman in charge.

Does that make me more sexist or more racist? Please… I am neither. These two individuals are both fine Americans and I will vote for either one.

I’m a teacher, only I don’t have to teach all that complicated stuff like where do babies come from, and how did the world get here in the first place. Of course, if I was asked to teach such delicate and apparently controversial matters, I’d be only too glad to check all the facts, and find appropriate books for children to learn all about the science behind such things. I’d be interested in seeing what theories were supported by fossils, and layers of the earth, and astronomy and all that sort of thing.

Instead, I am focusing on teaching kids how to unwind after a busy day at school, how to bake cookies, muffins, or pizza, or how to sew a pillow, or how to make an origami fortune teller, or encourage dramatic play, or, or, or, or. You get the idea. I’m the After School Director — and it’s my job to see that the kids are safe and comfortable until their parents are able to pick them up. And at the wonderfully crunchy school where I teach, I don’t think anyone would even think about teaching so-called “Creationism.”

I was so appalled today to read the following:

An avid hunter and self-described “hockey mom,” Palin, 44, is beloved by conservatives for her strong opposition to abortion and her support of teaching creationism in school.

Republicans also rallied around Palin when she was attacked by pundits for failing to put her family first, given that she has a four-month-old son with Down syndrome and her unmarried, 17-year-old daughter is pregnant.

Ok, when did Republican come to mean “doesn’t believe in science anymore”? I mean, really? And if Republicans are so against having the government be big and control people’s freedoms, why is that they want to limit what a woman chooses to do? And to make people’s kids be forced to learn some religious bullship in place of science? And what’s with this pitbull woman who cares more about unborn embryos than about what happens to kids after they are born?

Being a mom of two children, and teacher to many more, I know how much kids really yearn for someone to listen, lead, and share with them so much of every day life. And I remember fondly how completely having an infant filled up my days and nights. It wasn’t that I didn’t have a career (I did, and continued to work even as milk would sometimes trickle down my blouse — s’cuse me!). It wasn’t that I was someone whose only interest in life was to care for my infant. It just really takes a lot of work to raise a baby. My babies didn’t have “special needs” but they did need my special loving attention, practically 24/7. Even if I wasn’t with them, my body sure know what it was supposed to be doing.

So, If Palin is so gosh-darned happy to be a hockey mom, why would she want to move to Washington, D.C.? The hockey is certainly not so choice there. When does she plan to pump milk for her baby? Or does she even bother now? Apparently, she isn’t much concerned about the welfare of her children once they leave the womb. Or maybe her preggo teenage daughter can just quit school and be the new mom of the house, it’s good practice and all.

Meanwhile, she’s so proud of her daughter’s DECISION to have a baby! Guess what? There’d be no DECIDING if Mommy had her way with the country, right? All the preggo teenagers would just up and marry their boyfriends and fill the world with little cherubs for our social services system to help care for. Too bad those same social services are being run down, de-funded, and dismantled by the Republicans. Of course, the number of teen moms will only go up and up, since Abstinence Only Education leaves teens in the dark about how to protect themselves should hormones ever cloud their judgment about sex. But really, who ever heard of teens having bad judgment? That’s just crazy talk!

So. Science? Out the window. Facts? That’s history! Real Education? Bah! Don’t be ridiculous!!

Tomorrow is my first day of After School. I think I’ll teach the kids about what we can do to save the unicorns from becoming extinct.

De-Clutter: (verb) 1. “to painfully throw away tons of stuff that you thought you should keep for the past fifteen years but turns out you just left in a huge heap in your closet causing you to be unable to find the few things you actually wanted, and then later forgot that you even owned.”

2. “To Take neatly stacked piles of things from closet and spread all over room, causing your skin to crawl and mind to explode and dinner to not get made even though you are really, really, really hungry.”

3. “Reclaiming emptiness from mess.”