If I Were President

My 8 year old girl R completed a 1st grade school project, “If I Were President.” It’s a 7 page packet with lead-ins for each panel, and a space for her to add her thoughts and ideas. In 2040, please consider her as you vote for US President.

If I Were President by R

If I were President, the first thing I would do is:
Help everyone. But I would not take money from the rich and give it to the poor. Because the poor did not earn that money.

If I were President, I would eat:
good things like broclie, corn and beons.

If I were President, I would travel to:
Hawaii and Montana.

If I were President, I would have a pet:
dog and cat named Bella and Nickey.

If I were President, I would pass a law that: There would be no bullying! (I guess they don’t teach 1st graders yet that Presidents don’t pass laws).

If I were President, I would help: everyone. (Not just ACORN and the unions. OK- that last bit was mine).

Final Comments: I don’t think I would like to be the President. I think it is too much work! I mean, I would love to help people, but it would not work.

High School Food

I know school food is bad, but this is what's on the menu today for Franklin High School in Franklin TN:


Beef Sticks, Nuggets, Mashed Potatoes, Green beans, Gravy.


Beef sticks and nuggets? Disgusting. What happened to good old Salisbury Steak?

1980’s Technology at School

Last night I helped my daughter A with her homework. She had a worksheet with several math problems (the word problem kind- the one’s we all love so much).

We got to the last problem and we hit a bump. The set-up was that some girl (I think her name was Sally), surveyed her class to find out what kinds of appliances each student had at home, and how many of each appliances there were amongst all the students.

The results were in a pictograph, with each appliance listed, and a light bulb icon indicating 4 such appliances at a students home. 3 light bulbs next to washing machine meant 12 washing machines at the homes of the students.

There were two appliances little 10 year old A was confused by. Food Processor and Walkman. Both elicited a “what’s that?” question.

Well, sweetie, a food processor is like a, umm, well it’s a sort of machine that chops up food like carrots or tomatoes for salads or cooking.

And the Walkman? I tried to explain it was like a radio you walked around with and also played cassette tapes. Which of course led to “what’s a cassette tape?”

Final response I gave to her? A Walkman is sort of an old-fashioned iPod from when daddy was a kid.

Mixed Messages From The Cafeteria

Each weekday I get an email update from my daughter K’s high school with various news items, alerts and events for parents to be aware of.

This was the headline of yesterday’s daily update:

ANNOUNCEMENTS: Tuesday Jan. 6th, 2009

FROM THE CAFETERIA: To help with New Year’s resolutions to be healthier, the cafeteria will be helping out.

Very interesting.

I’m not aware that the student body en masse took such a pledge, but maybe they did. Or perhaps it was the school principal or the cafeteria manager? Or maybe the county school commissioner? In any case, it had my attention. The headline was followed by the “meat” of the story:

We are no longer frying anything. All of our fries will be baked.

Interesting. So far, so good… I guess. Baked French fries? What would that be, exactly? Are those also known as baked potatoes? I guess if Lays can bake potato chips, our high school can bake french fries.

The next item in the story confused me though…

We will no longer have individual salt & pepper packets. This is a small part that we can do to help out.

Ok. No individual salt and pepper packets. Perhaps they got this particular item in the wrong update and it was meant for next years “Global Warming Solutions from the Cafeteria” resolution. Looks like the old prank of loosening salt shaker tops may make a come-back.

And finally, right after the health pledge from the cafeteria comes the regular section where they indicate what's on the menu in the cafeteria for that day:

“Come join us for lunch: Baked potato bar, Nacho bar, Pork Patty, Double Cheeseburgers, Green Beans, Cornbread, White Beans”

Oops. So much for healthy new year resolutions from the high school cafeteria.

Who’s That Girl?

Last week Franklin High School’s choirs put on a “Winter Performance” (winter of course being code word for CHRISTMAS). We dropped off our little K-girl and headed to dinner while the choir prepared for the evening.

I took Michelle and the three other girls to dinner at our favorite Thai spot- Chlay’s. We always enjoy seeing the owner Suwane (most people call her Pam) and catching up on family news.

After dinner, and placing an advance to-go order that we would pick up for K-girl on the way home after the concert, we headed down the road to Franklin High School. We took our seats and awaited the beginning of the show, Sony HandyCam at the ready of course.

I was a bit shocked. While I was certain we had dropped off little K-girl, what I saw on stage and on the viewer screen was not her. I saw an amazingly beautiful young woman. Absolutely gorgeous (she gets that from her mom for sure), and looking way to mature for my little girl.

It took me a full 5 minutes to recover. Flashing through my mind were images of a newborn K-girl crying at the bright hospital lights and then settling down as I shielded her eyes. Our little toddler pointing at everything in sight and awaiting the proper word and intonation from her mom or me. The stunning 5 year old trotting off to kindergarten with barely a glance back at us. And the uncoordinated and goofy tweenager starting to struggle with increasingly hard homework and the intricate web of life I call the female social structure.

She’s growing up way to fast. It’s no longer years and years ahead of us having this precious person in our daily life… we’re down to months now. About 32 of them. Oh man, this is starting to get real hard.

Feeling Like An Outsider In Your Hometown

This morning I made the 5 minute journey to Hillsboro Elementary and Middle School for the annual thanksgiving lunch for parents and their kids.

For a mere $5.00 you get a Styrofoam plate with scoops of turkey, stuffing and gravy, green beans, a roll, chocolate milk and a mini-pumpkin pie. And each year I take one bite and throw the rest away. At least you get to spend a few minutes with your kids during the school day.

Like most schools, we have to sign in as visitors when visiting and get a little VISITOR sticker so we don’t get stopped by the school police officer (who has actually busted my wife once for forgetting the sticker and sent her back to the office).

After lunch, I stopped by Puckett’s for some lunch. The kind I could actually eat. It’s halfway between the school and home and is a frequent stop for a bite to eat, some groceries, or a fill-up at the gas pumps out front.

I took the chance to have a nice draft beer with my meat and two (brats with onions and peppers, mashed potatoes, green beans) since I work out of my home and my company policy, which I wrote, does not address consuming alcohol during the work day or on company property.

When I finished I stood up to throw away the trash and couldn’t spot the large garbage can that usually sits between the dining area and grocery store at Puckett’s (If your ever in the Nashville area, make the trip to Leiper’s Fork or Franklin for a burger or pork BBQ platter at Puckett's - it’s worth the trip for the food and ambiance). I stood there for a second looking for what had become of the garbage can when the gent sitting next to me offered some kind help:

“The garbage is right over there next to the drink station.”

And then the truly perplexing question this nice guy asked:

“Do you need directions anywhere?”

Hmm. I answered no, and headed out to the car. I was confused for a second as to why I was asked this question but quickly forgot about it. As I pulled into my garage a few minutes later and unbuckled my seatbelt, I noticed the sticker still on my shirt. Visitor.

Daddy, Can We Be Home Schooled?

Last night as I put the two little ones to bed (A & R) and proceeded to start the nightly ritual of back scratching, R said “Daddy, can we please be homeschooled?”

Michelle and I have talked about this idea several times over the last many years and just don’t see ourselves as the homeschooling type. We admire those that can do it, and know several people that do it quite well. We’re just not one of them.

I asked R why she wanted to be homeschooled and she said that it was real nice not having to get up early and go to school the last several days of Christmas break.

She then paused a second and added “plus, school is about the only bad thing in my life and I’d like to get rid of it.”

If only things we didn’t want to do were that easy to end.

Informance

THIS POST HAS BEEN CENSORED BY MY WIFE

You could have read it if you had a reader program and got it delivered earlier.

If not, too bad.

She felt it would have hurt too many feelings. She's sensitive that way.

High School Football

Last night I went to my first high school football game since the fall of 1983. Nothing has changed. The stands are filled with only parents, except for the far right side where the students escape parental supervision and act like crazy people. The cooler students wander the outside edges of the field paying absolutely no attention to the game, and the two school bands duel each other across the field with musical rifts that can barely be heard.

In the fall of 1983 I quit high school football as a junior. I had played 9th and 10th grade on the varsity squad at Ft. Meade High School in Ft. Meade Maryland. Our family moved to Gaithersburg Maryland half-way through my high school career, and so started a new school in 1982.

When I tried out for the Gaithersburg football team, I figured out pretty quickly that Coach Harvill had his favorites. Boys that had played for him a few years and spent every waking minute in the gym lifting weights. I just didn’t fit in. After reaching the half-way point of the one season I was on the team, and not having a single second of playing time, I quit. When I left our record was 0-4 without a single touchdown scored. By the end of the season it was 2-8.

I guess I would have been more understanding if the team was on a rip and the starting squad that had played together 2 or 3 years prior to my arrival was allowed to rein terror on the field, but no… the “starters” were horrible. I watched missed tackle after missed tackle that I imagined I could have made. It was torturous. I walked away from the “team.”

The only other time I was on a high school football field was 2 years later on graduation day. Since then, for 23 years, I haven’t had occasion to go back on one. Until last night. The memories came- great football games (at least at Ft. Meade), playing in the marching band during half-time in my football gear, rowdy cheers and celebrations after the victories (again, only at Ft. Meade).

With K now in high school, and the Friday night ritual an apparent must to keep pace with the social activities of peers, it looks like I’m in for a few years of this.

School Lunch

Today Michelle and I went to our girl A's school for lunch. It's her 9th birthday today.

We've been there before for lunches, and planned on buying lunch at Puckett's to bring with us- the last thing we wanted to do was actually buy lunch AT school again. Not only is the food bad, but there's not much of it. Which, I guess, is a good thing.

We ran out of time and had to do it- we had no choice if we wanted to eat with A. We got in line with a few 3rd graders and went through the line. We were shocked.

We had a nice sized chicken breast filet/chicken finger thing with honey mustard and BBQ sauce, baked potato with cheese and sour cream, steamed broccoli with cheese sauce, side salad and a roll. Sweet iced tea instead of 1% chocolate milk that tastes like college-ruled paper completed the meal.

I think I might bring a few clients there for lunch meetings. Not sure you can best that meal for only $3.00.

Brave, Almost To The End

The day started crisp, clear and painfully hot. Yesterday was our 15th day of 100 degree weather in the lovely Greater Nashville area. R was excited to have the day begin- it was her first day of kindergarten.

I was uplifted by her enthusiasm. She was so ready for this day to come, and looked so cute with her backpack on and a smile ready for the world. This was her day. She was officially a ‘big girl.”

In contrast, her older sisters that had started school the week prior, saw today as just another school day. The faces were long, eyes sleepy, and bodies moving slowly. R was unfazed. This day was the start of something new. A new chapter in her life, a new independence, a new world really, filled with new friends, teachers, fun, games, and walking the hallways in single-file while looking up at the giant 6th graders. Her spirits were soaring.

When I watched her, and listened to her talking about how excited she was, I could almost…barely…remember a glimmer of my first day at school. Disjointed flashes and images come to mind. I think I can remember what my class looked like, I think I see images of a blackboard and a lunch room when on Friday’s we could get ice cream cones for 20 cents.

She had not a trace of fear in her- she was good to go. Until it was time to leave her classroom after dropping her off. Then everything changed. The tears flowed, she hugged Michelle and said she was afraid. Michelle wouldn’t let go and started to tear up. I played my part in the drama- “Michelle, come on, its time to go. R will be fine.”

We left as the teacher kindly jumped in and hugged R and showed her to a table with puzzles and games.

Several hours later when Michelle picked her up, R was on top of the world again. She was so excited about her first day and couldn’t wait for the next. She wait until dinner to tell us about her day. We typically have our other 3 girls tell us about their school day during dinner conversation, and she could finally participate.

Walgreens Stalker

When I was in high school I had a math teacher that allowed his students to raise the grade of one test each semester, by one grade level, if we brought him home-made chocolate chip cookies. He encouraged us to understand the value of each test, what our grade average was currently, and the impact of raising the grade by one level for each particular test to find the best time to bring him cookies. We thought it was a bribe. He was actually teaching us math the whole time.

Last night I had to go to Walgreens and buy a box of staples. There is a connection here…stay with me. My daughter K told me that one of her teachers told the class he was short on staples, and anyone that brought him a box of staples would get 10 bonus points. I found this both interesting and disturbing. Needing chocolate chip cookies I get…being a teacher at a school in one of the wealthiest counties in the US and needing students to bring in staples I don’t get. But hey, 10 bonus points for K’s GPA. I’m in.

I headed out to Walgreens about 8PM last night and arrived in the parking lot about 15 minutes later. I pulled into a parking space right next to another car. As I got out I glanced at my parking lot neighbor, a mom and her young son, who looked at me warily. I don’t blame her- she was vulnerable right next to me in a surprisingly dark parking lot as she was getting her young son out of her car. I followed her into Walgreens. Not purposely- she just happened to be right in front of me and we walked in together.

She of course headed right to the school supplies aisle. I followed her. She stopped a few feet into the aisle and was looking at the school supplies right where the staples were. I waited near her. She glanced at me a couple of time and I smiled. She didn’t. She seemed very nervous and concerned with my continued presence, especially after I snapped the picture of her shown above. She moved on down the aisle while I grabbed the staples and headed a few aisles over to get bread for Michelle. After that I went an aisle over to grab the obligatory Starbucks Coffee Frap (a Walgreens ritual for me). She was there. Getting a gallon of milk. She looked at me again and I smiled. She didn’t. She left and disappeared around the next aisle and I headed to check-out.

Of course the mom and her kid popped out from an aisle in front of me and walked towards the cash register too. As she approached, she turned and saw me. I ended up right behind her in line. After I paid I headed out to the parking lot just as the lady got into her car. She pulled out as I started my car, and I assume she breathed a sigh of relief. I pulled out from the Walgreens parking lot and of course she turned right- that was my way home. I turned behind her and we both stopped at the traffic light on Downs Boulevard in Franklin. She was turning left…and so was I.

We both traveled down the road towards a relatively lightly populated part of the county where I live. It’s a long drive down route 96 west, and off we went, the nice lady, her son, and me. Miles went by. I was thinking that this lady certainly must think I’m a nutcase stalker out to get her, and I hoped she turned left into Westhaven- the last development in the area- so I could cruise on by her. Nope. She continued on and so did I. Several miles later as we approached my turn off she put her blinker on to turn left. I did too. She slowed down noticeably and turned her blinker off. She then put it back on, and turned left onto the road that runs by my house. I followed her. Another few miles were driven and I can only assume she was calling someone on her cell phone for help. She was weaving quite a bit probably watching me in her rearview mirror. We finally got to my house and I turned off the road onto my driveway and for the first time in almost half and hour I wasn’t right behind this stranger.

So, did I imagine she was concerned (or freaked out)? If you are a woman, and this happened to you, what would you think? Oh, one more thing...I was kidding about taking the picture on this post. I found it on Google images :)

Friday Is Important Again

Summer is over. School is back on. And the days are gone when our kids would not remember what day it was. That phenomenon starts a week after school lets out, and ends abruptly on the morning school starts up again.

For almost three months the wonder and excitement of Friday’s has been gone. Tomorrow, however, the magic will be back.

Our exhausted and beaten-down kids will suddenly have their spark back. Laughter will come to their world again. They will seem brighter, lighter, and ready for the new day.

Why? Because it wil be FRIDAY! The end of the week! No school the next day! Sleeping in, no homework! The world will be right again.

Oh, one more reason... High School Musical 2 premieres. The kids are about to lose their minds.

High School

So it happened today. I drove my oldest girl, K, to her first day of high school. The moment she left the car and headed to class, with her gorgeous hair flowing down and walking as tall and beautiful as her mother, it all hit me.


It seemed the weight of the world lowered onto my heart. A pain covered me and tears flowed as I drove away alone in the car.


My little girl is in high school. There are only 4 years, 208 weeks, 1,456 days, and 24,944 hours before college.


Ugh.







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Last Day Of School

Today is the last day of school for 3 out of our 4 DigitalRichCrew members. R’s pre-school graduation was yesterday, and K, L and A’s last day of 8th, 5th and 2nd grade is today.

Pre-school graduation was tough. Not on an emotional level… more on a pain endurance level. Mrs. N, the school’s director pulled out the same talking points, same music, same Erma Bombeck poem to read as she has the previous times our kids have ‘graduated.’ Par for the course for the school. Sometime in the late 1980’s they perfected the script for a full year of pre-school and like a tired Broadway play running for 10+ years, they have the same events, celebrations, speeches, music, memo’s and activities every year. This past year was our 8th year straight of having a child at the school, and our last. YAY!

As for our elementary and middle-schoolers (the school our 3 oldest attend is a combined elementary/middle school), they are preparing this morning for the regular routine as well. On the agenda for the day? Each is equipped with a disposable camera to catch memories of the last day and their friends. The annual last day of school food-fight is being planned by the trouble-makers and the word is getting out via text messaging to all the cell-phone equipped middle-schoolers. Various DVDs will be watched during classes while teachers rush to finish grading exams and finalizing grades. What a heady time.

When I think back over my years at school, or just my youth in general, I can’t think of too many things greater than the feeling in ones heart and soul that begins to bubble up around March, and then hits a roiling boiling point in late may. SCHOOL IS ALMOST OVER!!! What an amazing feeling.

It takes much to reconnect with that old feeling. As parents, the feeling is now along the lines of OH NO!!! SCHOOL IS ALMOST OVER.






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Punish Them All

I’m not sure if what we are experiencing here in my corner of the world is common, or just a local phenomenon, but it seems that public schools here have settled on a strategy to handle trouble-makers by penalizing everyone in sight.

A few recent examples:

- My 8 year old’s class lost recess because one punk kid was talking too much in class.

- Same daughter had a recent fun-day during PE trashed by the teacher because two boys were acting up. They spent the entire period walking laps around the gym in silence.

- 8th grade 2-day trip to Six Flags was canceled because someone vandalized the charter bus the night before the trip.

It goes on and on. Seems our teachers here have all got together and decided on this new strategy thinking somehow that peer-pressure, social responsibility, team dynamics and other high-minded ideals will somehow compel young kids to hold each other accountable for the common good and suddenly respond to these tactics by materializing good behavior and respect for teachers and each other.

This is insane. While the majority of kids are growing up in homes where good behavior is required and respect for teachers and other authority figures are taught, there are some that are growing up in horrible home enviroments and are crying out for help and attention. The teachers stupid tactics will do nothing to address the root problem.

I have an idea. Recently in our county (like last week) a teacher was arrested for having an inappropriate relationship with a student. How might we respond? Seems like the silly police department and justice system wants to come down hard on just this one teacher.

Why not really make a statement? Let’s penalize ALL teachers in our county by rolling-back any raises they got in the last couple years, freezing pay raises through 2010 and making them come to school throughout this upcoming summer?






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How Was Your Day?

Each night at dinner I ask each of our four girls how their day was. For three of them, its an exercise in parental coaching to get them to move beyond the one-word answer “good.” Why was it good? What happened today? Did you learn anything? Did anything interesting happen to you or someone else? C’mon little lady..give me something here.

For our girl A, eight years old, no such encouragement is needed. We all must steel ourselves for the outpouring that comes with the question. A blow by blow granular recounting of every second of the day. Most of the time it is a hodge-podge of random events, comments and experiences that require multiple questions to try to string together a bigger story of the day.

Today’s was particularly interesting. Here is my best shot at recounting word-for-word her update:

“Today was good. I took my RAA test- it’s for reading. I read a story called, um, I don’t remember what it was called. We read a story and then take a test to see what we remember. It was about a dog and a boy. And a man stole the dog from the boy and when the boy asked him what happened to the dog the man said a swarm of birds took him away. So the boy took the mans donkey and told him a swarm of birds took him away too, and then they laughed and they gave each other their animals back. And Ms Kretchmar got really angry because she wrote the message for the day on the board and it took her 10 minutes to write it and someone erased half of it. She said that if the person that did it didn’t tell than we would all miss recess. Then C (a boy) said he had to go to the bathroom and he had marker on his hands and had to wash it off so we all think he did it. And someone threw mulch at me.”

I finally had a chance to ask a clarifying question about her day at the end of the spewing but I didn’t know where to start. So I started at the last thing she said…”Someone threw mulch at you?”

“Yes. I was doing my work and then I felt mulch hit my head, and then I felt it in my hair and someone threw it at me.”

Oh. Interesting.






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Storms And Rumors Of Storms

Yesterday a large weather band had it’s eye on the South. Our local weather reporters were predicting terrible storms and conditions ripe for tornadoes. Schools in our area were cancelled shortly after lunch, and parents all over were scrambling to get home or contact friends to ask them to watch after their kids.

Since Michelle and I work at home, no problems on our end. Except one- I had an important meeting offsite with a client at 2PM- right at the start of when the storms were supposed to hit our area. Michelle and I chatted about it and I decided to move the meeting to another day.

The last several years, on the days the worst storms hit and my wife and kids have had to hide in a closet, I have been out of town. Michelle remarked that I always seem to be away when the bad ones hit, so I thought it would be better to stay home yesterday.

2PM came and went and besides some rain we got nothing. Unfortunately in places like Mobile AL and other areas in MO and GA, they didn’t have a false alarm. Storms and tornadoes hit hard with loss of life and property. It's a risk that comes with living in this area. We don’t have earthquakes (well, not for 100 years or so), hurricanes, landslides, avalanches or insane heat or cold extremes. We have tornadoes. That’s our curse here in the south. That and a few other things like humidity, grits and civil war reenactments.






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Cutting Class at 40

A couple nights ago Michelle and I went to Franklin High School for parent’s orientation- preparing us for this fall when our oldest, K, starts high school.

We had planned to make the night fun despite having to endure what we thought would be an hour of people getting on stage in an auditorium and talking at as. 6:30PM to 7:30PM or so, maybe it wraps up 15 minutes earlier, then we head to McCreary’s for a some fish & chips and a pint or two.

Afterwards we needed to get home so I could help L study for her big math test the next day, then I had to head out about 10PM or so to watch the band I manage, the koo, perform an important show at the Mercy Lounge in Nashville.

We were running late getting out the door (my fault THIS time), and so headed off at a higher rate of speed that was prescribed by law. Moments after hitting the main road and cresting the first hill, we came very close to ending the evening right then and there on a rather bad note.

We didn’t just almost hit a deer…we almost hit 8 of them. It’s like they had got an idea from a bunch of ducks about road-crossing safety. A nice sized heard, grouped together in a thick mass right in the middle of the road, lit up brightly from ground up as I slammed on the brakes dipping the car low. As we started to skid and slide a bit, I sensed a small opening in the deerness and nudged the car to the left a bit. Surprisingly we did not make contact. Deer a foot to the left, a foot to the right, and six inches in front, but no deer in our windshield, and more importantly, no antlers through our foreheads. We continued on our way, burning off calories as if we had just done 30 minutes of cardio exercise.

We arrived at the school, took the hand-outs given us by several ROTC officers that looked to be about 10 years old, and sat down. A moment later we looked at the evenings agenda and noticed it was planned through 8PM. No way. Our night was tight, and the schools plan for our time would simply not do. We needed to wrap up around 7:15-7:30 to keep our plan.

The principal explained how things would work- after this introductory session, we break into 3 groups based on last name, and cycle round-robin through 3 more sessions- Registration, Courses, and extra-curricular activities/groups. As the bell rang and we were all dismissed to our first session, Michelle and I resigned ourselves to the schools schedule. We decided a quick burger on the run from McDonalds would have to suffice for dinner. We headed to the library to learn about the courses offered.

When we got there we saw it was more of an on-your-own thing instead of a sit down and be talked at thing. There was a semi-circle of booths set up so each parent could walk a receiving-line of sorts asking questions of teachers, picking up brochures and watching dry PowerPoint presentations projected on the library walls.

Michelle had a brilliant idea- since this seemed a bit like free period, how about we just blow through here, pick up all the handouts, cut-out and go to session 2 in the cafeteria early, then when the next bell rings, hit session 3 as our session 2, and leave early to grab dinner. Brilliant. We did it. As session 3 started and all the other schleps had to go to class, Michelle and I snuck out, fully brochured and informed, and went to dinner. Felt like high school again.






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Now I Know For Sure…I’m Old

Last night Michelle and I went to parent orientation at Franklin High School. Our oldest, K, is starting high school next year.

I really didn’t think much about the meeting prior to going. I figured it would be the standard boring stuff- bathrooms are over here, school starts at this time, students get out at this time, they are allowed so many excused absences per marking period, etc.

What I didn’t expect was to enter a high school that was much more massive inside than I expected, to walk an impossibly long and complicated maze to get to the auditorium, and then sit in a room filled with parents old enough to have kids going to high school. Wait. I’m one now too.

I was uncomfortable from the start. The principal and president of the parents-teachers organization got up to speak. The words were from my distant past, long forgotten- college prep, planning for college financial aid, mandatory courses, electives that will line up nicely with your child’s plans for the future, blah, blah, blah. Gone were the simpler days of elementary and middle-school orientation. Reminders from the kindly principal about arts and crafts fees, lunch tickets and the car-rider/drop off lane rules and etiquette.

There are times that seem reality smacks me in the face harder than others. There is the 'everyday' kind that creeps up on me and says ‘boo’ in little ways. Bills due, broken refrigerators, a new ache or pain. Those are the times reality and the unpredictability of life can knock me for a day-long loop. Other times, reality rears its ugly giant head and wobbles me a bit on my ‘center.’ Last night was one of them. A reminder, yet again, at how quickly life is flying by.

I remain more sensitive to this than normal as I am continuing to archive all of our old photos on our home network, and so have been bombarded the last week or so with hundreds and hundreds of images of K as our little first-born girl. Petite, cute, funny, smart. And little. Most definitely NOT a high school girl.






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