As we enter the tween stage, my plants shall be my babies.

Yesterday, Jake had a field trip – to a movie theatre. Apparently there is a film festival going on – who knew? Not me. – and his class was slated to see a movie called The Seventh Dwarf, which was, obviously, all about fairy tales and reimagining of traditional fairy tales. According to Jake, it was a total snore. I guess there weren’t enough explosions for him.

Of course there was a liability waiver to sign, and among all the possible hazards – bus crashing, children walking in a parking lot, etc. – there was a new one: “unfamiliar environment”. I’m not exactly sure what the exact hazard associated with “unfamiliar environment” is. Getting lost, maybe? But “becoming separated from the group” was also listed, which is sort of the same thing as being lost. The noise level in the theatre, maybe? The darkness? I just don’t know.

I planted herbs and greens in my brand-new indoor grow-light garden on Monday, and they are already sprouting. I’m incredibly excited about it, and now my husband and I are referring to the little sprouts as my “babies”, in case you’re wondering exactly what kind of crazy old lady I am destined to be. I am going to be the crazy old lady with a million houseplants, all started from seed, which will be referred to as my babies, and my indoor jungle will be the talk of the nursing home. This, in addition to my vision of myself with terribly artificial, flame-red hair, lipstick bleeding into the fine lines around my mouth, reeking of Chanel Number Five, making sexually inappropriate comments to all the male orderlies and strutting around in my slacks and pumps, will be me in forty years. It’s good to have goals.

Speaking of goals, yesterday I dropped the boys off at karate and headed to Superstore to pick up a few items. At 5:30 on a Thursday night, I made it IN AND OUT IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. This includes the time I spent browsing the Daiya cheese section to check out their prices, and the time I spent wondering if I should purchase my nail polish in “Shell” or “Pretty in Pink”. Fifteen minutes! It’s a new record. It gave me some time to just relax and read a book before the boys’ class finished.

I’ve been reading The Goldfinch, and I really like it, except for one thing: all the drug use. Call me “square”, call me “lame”, but the excessive drug use and descriptions are really, really disgusting. I find myself flipping forward to see if there is still excessive drug use or if the main character has gone “straight”, then sighing, I realize that he’s still high, and turn back to the original chapter. I had this same experience while reading Shantaram and the descriptions of being incarcerated in an Indian jail; I would flip forward 100 pages to see if he was still in jail, OMG he is, I cannot take it anymore. Yet, I’m emotionally invested enough in the story to keep reading; I gave up on Shantaram during his heroin withdrawal scenes. I guess I just don’t have the emotional wherewithal to cope with fictional junkies.

The book fair is next week; I’ve been busy this week preparing for the fair itself plus getting organized for having a few days totally out of the house, etcetera. It’s been a productive week but now I’ve lost all motivation. I have a can of chickpeas sitting on the counter, waiting for me to magically turn them into hummus for dinner, and a giant basket of laundry in need of folding, and yet all I want to do is sink into the couch with a glass of wine. On the count of three, I’m pressing publish and finishing those little tasks so I can uncork that bottle, guilt free. Have a lovely weekend, lovelies. One, two, three…


  1. Liability waivers drive me nuts. NUTS. I cannot BELIEVE how many things I am supposed to waive!

    Also, it is risky to tell someone they look like someone else, because it is. But. I was reading Beverly Cleary’s second autobiography (On My Own Two Feet), and there was one picture where I was like “WHO does that remind me of? It reminds me of someone VIVIDLY, but WHO??”—and I realized it was YOU. And what makes this a little potential awkward is that SOME of her pictures didn’t look at ALL like you, so if you looked her up and found one of THOSE, you’d be all, “*side-eyes*.” Like when someone told my mother she looked like Carol Burnett, a comparison she did not find either apt or flattering. Anyway, let me see if I can find the picture….okay, here it is, but in small/online size it doesn’t remind me of you as much:×300.jpg So you will probably have to check the book out of the library and see for yourself.

  2. The “unfamiliar environment” line is for kids who are triggered by changes in routine/place, or who have some sensory issues. That’s why it’s different from “wandering away from the group/getting lost”.

  3. I have been resisting the use of the word tween for June, who will be 9 next month, but one of your is 10, right? I guess that’s legitimate tween territory (don’t tell me I said that a year from now.)

  4. The part about being a crazy old lady made me laugh so hard, plus I had to read it to my husband. One of those Facebook quizzes should be “What Kind of Crazy Old Lady Will You Be?”

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