The years continue to turn. The days continue to pass. Time seems to slip away more quickly. And now we’re here in 2013.
The new year is a time of promises and change. I’ll lose weight, I’ll get rich, I’ll be better. Long before bloggers searched out time-applicable topics, folks were making lists of what they were going to accomplish in this particular cutout of the calendar. Continue reading
Last night I put a feverish Destroy to bed. This morning I hugged him tight and asked how he was doing. He wanted to watch Mickey Mouse. And when you’re recovering from a fever of 103.5, you get whatever you want. (Thems the rules in my house.)
I turned on the TV in search of the Disney Jr. channel. But the news caught my attention.
There had been a school shooting. Continue reading
It’s November. Month of my birth and prematurity awareness.
And in recent years, I’ve become aware of the trend to spend the penultimate month of the year sprouting the most unattractive facial hair possible. Continue reading
November is Prematurity Awareness Month.
But aren’t the muppets almost two and a half? Haven’t their medical records been stamped, signed, sealed and delivered with “no lasting effects of prematurity?” Why continue harping on this topic?
Other than because this is my blog and I can do what I want, the fact remains that even as the muppets grow into big healthy boys, their first home remains full. There are still too many tiny babies struggling for each tiny breath from the interior of a Giraffe isolette warmer. Continue reading
Search and Destroy with their favorite teacher (even if she is a bit disturbed).
I’m not sure how I feel about the environment my children are being educated in. And by that I of course mean Northern California.
Last week the San Francisco Giants won the World Series. The Bay Area went nuts. Those infected with the crazy included those responsible for imparting basic knowledge upon the impressionable young minds in their charge. Including the muppets. Continue reading
I remember being 5; I was in kindergarten. We were sitting on the rug (I sat next to Greg Thurner. I’m pretty sure I loved him.) The VCR was wheeled into the classroom. A national tragedy was occurring. The space shuttle Challenger had exploded. Continue reading
*Disclaimer. The clock time in that Mile 12 photo is the actual race time. Not my time. Subtract 45 minutes for my time. Because I started the race in corral F. And we had to wait for A-E to go first. Clearly they were slow.
At 9:30 a.m. yesterday morning I reflected upon my day. I had already run 13.1 miles.
“Why?” inquired a concerned cousin. “Were you in grave danger?”
If a woman has to choose between catching a fly ball and saving an infant’s life, she will choose to save the infant’s life without even considering if there are men on base.
~Dave Barry (on the perils of motherhood.)
The muppets have been learning the concept of t-ball over the past several weeks. Or, more accurately, taking a primary-colored plastic bat larger than the small children wielding it, and gently tapping the foam ball from atop its primary-colored perch. Continue reading
It’s the summer of the 2012 Olympics. Here on the west coast, we’re reviewing results we already know (thanks to Twitter) and watching an equal ratio of commercials to sporting events.
Question – Why does NBC need to continuously break to show commercials promoting the Olympics? You know, those same games the viewers at home are trying to watch on television RIGHT NOW. Continue reading
