Finding Something

extracurricularsWe had a conversation with my son this evening about him finding an extracurricular activity. He’s a sophomore in high school this year, and currently between “things.” As in, he doesn’t have a “something” to do right now. And he needs one. Even if he doesn’t think he does.

His routine is pretty much go to school, come home and do homework, then spend the rest of the night playing video games. Not exactly thrilling and productive.

I get it, kids need down time. I’m all for that. But they also need activity to keep their brains, social skills, and bodies healthy. So tonight I gave him the assignment to consider what his next “something” is. Does he want to get back into taking music lessons? Does he want to get more serious about getting a band together with his friends? Does he want to join the gym? Do photography? Play hopscotch? I really don’t care what it is, as long as it is something.

He will figure it out, and the next “thing” will become cool. So I have to temper my harping. Besides, soon he will have his license, then an after-school job, and his schedule will get really busy. Finding time for fun stuff will be even more challenging.

I was thinking today about my high school years, and the extra things I did. My son says his school’s clubs aren’t cool. Neither are the music groups. That’s too bad. I was a band nerd in high school. I had a fairly tight-knit group of friends who were also band nerds, and we were all in at least 2 or 3 groups. Every year I also played in the pit band for the high school musical. Then there were occasional other groups like yearbook committee or prom planning. Outside of school I had 4-H, right up through my teen years. Yup, I had plenty of “somethings” to keep me busy.

And what about now? What are our extracurriculars now? What are our “somethings”? How many of you just snorted “yeah, right, who has time?”   We R.W.’s are all so busy running around working and taking care of people that sometimes we forget about the importance that hobbies and interests still have in our lives. We need them too to keep our brains, social skills and bodies healthy. And no, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, paying the bills, beating deadlines at work, taking the kids to school and going grocery shopping does NOT count. Even for those of you wacky folks who enjoy those activities – they don’t count.

Amazingly, most real women do manage to carve out time for some sort of “thing” in their life. Lucille Ball once said “If you want something to get done, give it to a busy person. The more things you do, the more you can do.” And that really is true. Somehow the women in my life hold down jobs, family management, household maintenance, and more, yet also fit in things like hiking, card-making, quilting, sewing, scrapbooking, biking, painting, kayaking, social groups, book clubs, volunteer work, travel, theater – you name it. They all have some sort of “thing”, and that thing is really, really important to them.   I think in many ways, that “something” is what helps us all preserve our sanity. I know that when I have time for a bike ride, or some scrapbooking, or writing, I feel better and more centered. Less cranky and stressed. Huh. Go figure.

There is another adage, this one provided by John Wooden, that points out “The most powerful leadership tool you have is your own personal example.” So we owe it to our children to show them how important it is to find healthy and creative “things” in our life, and make sure we do them.

So I think the next time I decide to skip doing the laundry, or cleaning the bathroom in favor of writing a chapter in my book or going for a walk, I’ll pop my head in to my son’s room, tell him what I’m doing, and add “and I’m doing this for your own good.”   I know his initial response will be “wait, whut?”

Then some day, when he’s deeply involved in something cool and fun, he’ll get it.



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The Few, The Proud.. The X

secret-handshakeSomewhere along the way, I became part of a minority group. Not by ethnicity, sex, skin color, faith or even hair color. Nope, I’m talking about those of us in Generation X. Let’s face it, fellow X’ers…. We have become part of some kind of lost group – appropriately also called the Sandwich Generation. We are the ones who came after that giant Baby Boomer generation, and before the strong and energetic Millennials.

I hadn’t until recently felt alone or lost in any way. After all, I have surrounded myself with a group of BFFs who are also X’ers. We are the ones who are telling ourselves that moving into our 5th decade is a good thing. That we are still cool and not at all frumpy, and we are smart and trendy – and a strong group. Yet when I am out and about in the world, watching crowds of folks in places like airports and shopping centers, I realize that maybe there aren’t so many of us after all. Those Baby Boomers are still a commanding bunch. And that next generation, the Milennials? They are everywhere. Statistically, each of those generations out-number us Xers by approximately 25 million.

I spent the majority of my day this past Friday surrounded by Milennials at a work meeting with a Digital Web company. Their offices are something out of a TV show or movie set – funky, casual open space, just a bit hipster. The first thing I noticed walking into their space was the ping pong ball table set up in the midst of clusters of work spaces and big windows. They are all dressed in casual jeans and tshirts, without somehow looking casual; yet if I wear jeans and a tshirt, I look like I’m about to clean the house. They were all friendly, smart, energetic – even, dare I say it, perky. They all talked at 50mph, without breaking a sweat. And they are all attractive. Like, really attractive.   What is up with that? Is it just their youth and confidence making them glow?

While the Baby Boomers are moving into retirement and the Milennials are stretching their wings with purchasing power and their unique life perspectives, we X’s are… well, sandwiched somewhere in between. We are raising children ranging anywhere in age from elementary school to college, while at the same time taking care of aging parents or other loved ones. We are at the peak of our careers or in the midst of job changes. We are trying to keep up with technological changes that don’t come naturally so we don’t get left behind. We are battling the fact that we no longer have our youthful energy and appearance, but we now know what we will and will not put up with in life. In a nutshell, we are spread pretty thin, but like the Energizer Bunny, we keep on going – and we look damn good in pink.

So I think we R.W. X’ers need to form an alliance of sorts. To create a Cool Kids Club. Rather than feeling like a lost group, we can call ourselves Elite. We can develop a secret handshake or signal. Any prospective members of our club will have to answer the following questions to determine if they are eligible for acceptance:

Devil Dogs or Ding Dongs?

Ponch or Jon?

Dr. Sholls or Keds?

Starsky or Hutch?

Kamikaze or Harvey Wallbanger?

Finish these theme song lyrics: Baby, if you’ve ever wondered whatever became of me I’m living on the air in….

Bright red jumpsuit or Jordache jeans?

Bus head or mullet?

Bread or Kiss?

The Thorn Birds or Jonathan Livingston Seagull?

Tab or Fanta?

Sean Connery or Roger Moore?

We can have club meetings where we can debate each of our choices. Those outside our X’ers World won’t understand our passionate discussions. We will bond over our exclusivity. Who knows, we might even break out our shoulder pads and leg warmers. Come on, you know you still have some buried in a drawer somewhere. Right next to your Diary and your fan photo of Lynda Carter in her Wonder Woman boots.

So X’ers, who’s with me? Remember, there’s strength in numbers.


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Keep, Toss, Donate


The Looming Pile for Donation

My mother and I had a tradition when I was a girl that happened every Spring and every Fall.  She would painstakingly help me sort through my clothing, in preparation for the change of seasons or school year, to determine what I had grown out of, and what needed replacing. We made three piles: clothing to be kept and hung up in the closet for the season, clothing to be donated, and clothing that was just too worn out to be good for anything other than being recycled into dust rags.

Although I was too cool to tell her, I enjoyed this time with her, even if we had differing opinions of what should be kept.  In her truly organized manner, she would make a shopping list for necessary items. If it was practical and necessary (ie: pants for school that were not high-waters, or a nice dress for holiday family dinners), it went on the must-have shopping list.  If it was something she deemed unnecessary and I simply just wanted it, it was up to me to save my own money to purchase it.  I’m sure there were a number of items she hoped I would no longer want by the time I had saved the money (like my beloved wooden Dr. Scholl’s sandals or my brightly colored 80’s overalls).

Flash forward to today, and I still sort through closets twice a year.  Going through my son’s closet has become remarkably easy.  He’s a teenage boy, so the needs vs. wants are fairly simple.  But my closet – well, that remains a challenge.

The decision to keep, toss, or donate is not as easy as it was when I was young.  When I was 12, it was exciting to find out how much I’d grown, and to find cool new styles to pine away for.  Now the excitement has faded and it has become more of a chore.  Some of the decisions involve just plain letting go, after coming to the “it’s just not gonna happen” realization.  I finally came to the decision that it is time to pass along my four or five beautiful suits that have hung in my spare storage space for…. well, let’s see…. Probably 10 – 15 years?   I kept them all this time because I liked them, and thought that “someday I may have a job again where I’ll need these.”  Guess what, that’s not happening.  Time for those suits to go to someone who could really use them. Then there’s the super sexy or fancy dresses that hang forlornly in the back of the closet, taunting me with “you have no appropriate occasions to wear me” and “you’d have to wear spanx under me now and go without breathing all night anyway.”  Keep or donate?  The jury is still out.

The rest of the decisions take less deliberation, but are more depressing.  I no longer find clothing that I’ve outgrown because I’ve added three inches to my height, or because I’ve moved from skinny stick girl to having grown boobs.  Nope, now I find clothing that I’ve grown out of thanks to maturity, menopause, gravitational pull, weight gain, or just mood swings and taste.  It amazes me that in just one year, or even just a matter of a few months, things could change so drastically. I know I’m not alone here, because my BFF and I text each other during this process — because misery loves company.  Pants that previously fit well are now battling to button over my muffin top.  Styles that looked cute and trendy now drape oddly and unflatteringly.  And speaking of draping.  Holy flowy, Batman.  It appears that for many months I had gravitated toward a closet full of loose flowing styles.  You know the type, designed for us middle-aged women who want forgiving clothes that hide stuff.  I apparently took a step too far down Unstructured Alley.  I literally stood in my closet the other day and said “would it have killed me to keep ONE tailored button-down blouse?”  Last, of course, are the items that have been so darn practical and well-fitting that I’ve had them forever and I am just. plain. sick. of. them.  Yeah, I know mom, they are still useful.  Sigh.

I’m happy to report I’m nearing the end of this season’s sorting challenge.  I’ve hung up or packed away the keepers, and I have a large pile ready to be donated.  Last night I sat back and admired my somewhat organized closet, and reprimanded myself for complaining about my First World Problem of having clothes I don’t need.  I allowed myself to feel my seasonal sense of accomplishment.

Until I realized I still need to sort through my shoes.


Posted in beauty, Chores, clothing, family, home chores, Kids, moods, real style, Seasons, shopping, Style, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

What’s Your Sign?

chippyI’m not sure how much I believe about spirits, hauntings, and messages from those who have passed on. I tend to think almost anything is possible, but since I’ve never really experienced any paranormal activity personally (and I’m ok with that!), I can’t vouch for the validity of the concept.  My husband has “seen” his father several times, like in our kitchen and in his workshop, and his dad has helped him locate lost hardware pieces in the garage.  So, like I said, anything is possible.

What I do believe very firmly in are signs.  I believe that our loved ones conveniently send us signs to let us know they are somehow there for us, thinking about us, and to remind us to think about them. Or maybe to pop us a quick love note when we most need it.  I’m sure not everyone believes the same as I do, and that’s fine.  I understand that coincidences happen.  But since every sign I see makes me feel better, I’m sticking to my theory.

Let me give you a few examples. Both of my parents were nature lovers and avid bird-watchers.  My mom and I were often referred to as Big Mouse and Little Mouse. Not long after my mom passed, I was going through a bit of a challenging time and was missing her a lot. I was out for a walk in the middle of the day, and there, sitting on the sidewalk in front of me, was a mouse.  Not running away, not dead, not ill or attacked by a bird.  Just a mouse. Sitting there. It watched me walk by, then hustled off into the grass.  Basically any time a bird or an animal shows up in an unusual place or way, I take it as a sign. My brother and I shared stories of visits to the cemetery… when I stopped with my family, a fox ran out of the woods and right across the cemetery, near my mom’s stone.  When my brother paid his visit, on the way out, he said a butterfly literally flew alongside his car all the way out.

My dad adored elephants.  I swear that for the past year or so since he passed, I have seen elephants everywhere. People were posting cute elephant videos on Facebook, when I shopped, I saw elephant jewelry, home décor, books, artwork – even a giant stuffed elephant in Home Goods.  Sure, this all could have been a coincidence, and perhaps there has always been a plethora of elephant-themed items in my world and I’ve never happened to notice them. Or maybe elephants just happened to get trendy… who knows. It doesn’t really matter, because each time, it made me think of him.

Signs don’t have to be as big and as obvious as an elephant.  They can be common things, in an uncommon way. Growing up, our yard was a veritable mini wild animal kingdom. One of my activities with Dad when I was a girl was to help set the Have-a-Heart traps to catch chipmunks (and sometimes squirrels), then I’d go with him to drive a couple miles away to a parking area at the end of the local lake to let them loose.  We would joke about whether or not the chipmunk would turn around and beat us back home.  The other night, on my way home from work, it was a beautiful day, and I had my windows open.  I stopped at a light, and heard a rustling in the wooded area along the road.  I glanced over and saw a chipmunk pop up on a piece of wood, stop, and – I’m not making this up – stare straight at me.  The light changed, he scampered off.  Nothing unusual about a forest rodent, I know.  But why would I happen to notice it then?  Why would it stop and stare at me?

I’ve started to wonder what kind of fun signs I might want to send in the future when I’ve “gone beyond.”   I doubt I’ll be big and showy and come back as some kind of apparition or run around opening and closing cabinet doors… as much as I’d find that funny, I’d hate to scare my loved ones.  So instead, what kind of signs would make someone think about me?

I doubt my son would care much, or make the connection, if a pair of fabulous women’s shoes suddenly appeared on a sale rack in front of him.  So that won’t work.  Birds are a convenient sign… there is a fairly common belief out there that whenever you see a cardinal, it is a sign that an angel is near, or a loved one is visiting.  Ok, maybe, but that seems like a big burden to all cardinals.  Can’t they just come by the feeder because they are hungry?  No, I’d send one of my favorites, like a goldfinch or hummingbird, and have it land on someone’s head or perch by the window and stare in the house.  Something really obvious.  Maybe I’ll send my messages and personality through a future pet puppy…Or, hey, I know, I will somehow manifest myself in the form of a Christmas cookie!  You know what?  This sign-sending thing could be fun!

But I’m in no rush.  For now, I’m happy to keep going through my days here on earth, trying to stay alert to what others are trying to tell me when they can no longer pick up the phone or stop by for a hug.  Call me crazy if you want.  But when I see a Great Blue Heron fly alongside me while I’m out biking, I’m still going to say “hi mom & dad, love you too.”

So what’s your sign?

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As Luck Will Have It

383-roll-the-dice_800x6002“Let’s go this way.”

“What is it?”

“What’s what?”


“What’s what?”

Sigh. “I don’t know.”

This was a conversation I overheard this weekend between a nurse and an older woman resident at the Nursing Facility where my brother lives. Like most residential facilities, the people who live there show a range of health, abilities and lucidity. There is another woman who likes to sit in the hallway to watch visitors come and go, and frequently asks “Could someone bring me some toast?”

The staff at this facility are amazing, caring and positive people. It is a clean and pleasant environment. And yet, none of us want to end up living in a facility like it in our later years — even though the odds are good that some day we will. We’d all like to stay healthy and independent right up until our last day on earth. But of course there’s no way for any of us to be able to predict what our senior years will be like. One of my BFF’s is currently trying to cope with the fact that her father’s dementia is progressing rapidly. She and her mother have had to move him to a VA hospital. When she visits, he does not always know who she is. Another BFF’s mother has multiple health concerns, including having to endure dialysis. She has some good days with a clear mind and less pain, other days she’s loopy and miserable.

For those of us real women in our mid-life years, interacting with the next generation is like looking into a mirror of the future… and honestly it scares the heck out of us. Of course, I have a lot I still want to do and experience, so I’m hopeful that I won’t have to take a premature exit from this earth. I’d really like to be lucky enough to grow old.   It’s just the unknown of how those “old” years may shape up that has us on pins and needles.

My girlfriend and I recently enjoyed a beautiful sunny day roaming around a favorite annual arts & crafts fair. As we were getting ready to get on the shuttle bus from the parking area, we saw three women who were likely in their 70’s, also preparing to visit the fair. They were armed with big tote bags to carry their treasures, and other bags to carry anything else they may need for the afternoon. Each had on typical classic baggy oversized floral tshirts, shorts that hung to their knees, and grey hair clipped back with hair pins because it was a hot day out. They did not move quickly, but they were clearly happy to be together. My gf and I said to each other “you know that is us in about twenty years.” Although we giggled at the time, in reality I hope that IS us in the future. I hope that we will still be able to get out and about and enjoy fun outings together.

Of course, we all wish we could win the age lottery and be among the minority of seniors who seem resistant to infirmities and ailments. I have close family friends in their 80’s who still hike, play tennis, go boating, and host family and friends on a daily basis. They still drive from Florida to Maine twice a year. They are amazing, and I think to myself “when I grow up, I want to be like them.”

It makes me wonder. How do we roll the age dice? Who’s to say whether we’ll end up needing a nurse’s help to walk down a hallway while wondering why, or if we’ll end up climbing mountains in our later days?   Sure, health history and heredity have a lot to do with it. But there’s so much that seems to be up to chance, like some kind of geriatric game of roulette. Why does cancer, heart disease, Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s hit some of us and skip others?   Which of us get to be the lucky ones with sharp minds and limited aches and pains?   We just have to wait and see.

Since none of us have a crystal ball for the aged, we can only prepare ourselves for whatever may come. The best we can possibly hope for, no matter what, is to have moments of joy in every day. We can train for this by doing our best now to help the older generations experience moments of happiness, no matter how big or small. Share a smile, a laugh, a story, or make someone’s day just a bit easier – even if five minutes later they won’t remember it.

Then some day, if we are lucky, there will be someone there to do something nice for us.

Like bring us a piece of toast.


Posted in age, assisting, family, Health, Helping others, real women, Relationships, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fit to Print?


Ugh. Really with this?

I’m a smorgasbord kind of girl when it comes to news. I watch some local tv news each morning, then catch a few minutes of the Today Show. I listen to the radio on the way to work, and throughout the day like many others I get bits and pieces of “news” from a variety of online sources – via push notifications, apps, websites, social media, you name it, there are about a gazillion ways to get daily information.

Some of the news is national and fairly reliable, from places like CNN, the networks or BBC. Local news is generated from our local affiliated stations, blogs and word of mouth. Then there’s entertainment news and goofy stuff.

From time to time I will browse the highlights of “news” from sources like Yahoo. It is just like reading the headlines on tabloids while waiting in line at the grocery store, but electronic. And, just like I rarely pick up and actually open a National Inquirer, I rarely will click into a Yahoo headline to read the article. Scrolling through is enough. And why do I enjoy this? Because if I have to hear one more story about Hillz or Trump, I will puke. At least these sources are sharing something different.

Today as I scrolled through, I saw the following important news items, all with variable legitimacy:

  • Prince William and Kate are planning a 3rd baby for Christmas
  • Will the Big Bang Theory continue past season 10?
  • Are Keith Urban and Nicole calling it quits?
  • Husband Puts Whiney Wife for Sale on Ebay
  • Obama Greeted Warmly in Kenya
  • Forbes’ Releases list of Highest Paid Models

As I meandered my way through the list, wondering who out there really cares about Miss Michigan’s jumpsuit, I was reminded of why I started this Real Women blog four years ago (wow, really? Four years?).   I was standing in front of a rack of women’s magazines, looking for something to browse while traveling. I could find nothing that interested me, nor anything I could identify with. And they all looked and sounded the same. The women on the covers were all flawlessly beautiful. The articles promised things like “Get a flat tummy in 3 days with these 4 simple exercises”, or “Mind-blowing sex secrets revealed”, or “Find these amazing designer shoes for only $300.”   Then there was my favorite: a great way to feel woefully inadequate by reading about some woman who gave up her six-figure income to clime Mount Kilimanjaro. At the time I remember wondering “where are the stories for us real women? Where are the articles that we can really relate to, and that will make us feel better about ourselves?”

So I took pen to paper, or rather keyboard to blog, with a desire to share real, normal, we-aren’t-perfect-but-we-rock stories. Since then, nothing has really changed in the world of women’s magazines and entertainment news. All of those useless articles are there, as are the perfect women on the covers, and we still see headlines about people or activities that truly have no effect on our lives.

In that spirit, and in thinking about the Yahoo headlines, I present a few headlines of our own:

  • The Joys of a Vasectomy
  • Wife Wants to Put Hubby Out by the Curb, But No One Will Pick Him Up
  • Woman is Warmly Welcomed at The Grocery Store
  • Making Friends with Your Muffin Top
  • $5 Flip Flops – Who Cares if they Fall Apart in One Season?
  • Balancing the Checkbook: Deciding Between Paying for Electricity or Getting the Car Fixed
  • Throwing Together Dinner with 5 Ingredients in Less than 30 Minutes
  • Three Outfits Under $50 That Will Hide Your Back Fat

I have to believe that if I saw these headlines, I’d click to read the article, or pick up the magazine to take home, or turn up the volume on the TV. So much content, such little time.

Perhaps some day, if I win that elusive lottery, I’ll publish that magazine for all of us Real Women. In the meantime, keep scrolling what’s out there. I’ll be here when you need to share a dose of reality.






Posted in beauty, communication, Entertainment, Kids, real style, real women, shopping, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

When the Bell Tolls

classroom-desksTonight my husband and I rushed home from work, choked down a quick snack, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed out to our semiannual tradition: School Open House. Our son is now a Sophomore in High School. Which means, give or a take a few scheduling conflicts, we have attended approximately a dozen of these events. Not counting any that we attended in the past for my stepsons.

When our children are young, the Open Houses are opportunities to see the creative and fun community areas in which they play and interact, have time to talk with the teachers, and admire the artwork or stories on the walls created by young minds. As our kids get older and venture into high school, the open houses are more about trying to not get lost as we hustle through an abbreviated version of our child’s typical schedule, receive an extra copy of the class syllabus and hear the rushed presentation by teachers of what they hope to accomplish for the semester.

There are a few other guaranteed experiences at each Open House, for which I have a few recommendations on how they could be improved, thus encouraging better parental attendance:

  1. It will be stiflingly hot. It does not matter whether it is the Fall or Spring Open House. The interior temperature of the classrooms will be approximately 95 degrees. Idea: Hand out paper fans for moms to combat hot flashes, and cold bottles of water so parents don’t feel they’ve crossed the Sahara Desert by 3rd period. I know budgets are so low that we have to donate tissues to classrooms, so perhaps a local business could donate the water. They’d have a captive yet appreciative audience viewing their logo.
  2. Oooh that smell. It doesn’t matter where you went to school, upon entering you will recognize the scent. It is that unique combination of gymnasium-cafeteria-locker room-disinfectant-chem lab-auditorium that we all remember. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, more a nostalgic essence. I suppose those few schools that have recently gone through a major renovation may have lost that built-in-the-50’s aura… the next town over from me has a swanky new multi-million dollar high school. I’ll bet it smells like flowers and sunshine in there.
  3. Bleachers and desk chairs are still uncomfortable. This is why school is for the young. Any adult over the age of 40 can last only 15 minutes in a school chair or sitting on the bleachers in the gym. Idea: Let us stand, lean, or sit in the teacher’s chairs. We aren’t being rude. We just hate the embarrassment of getting up off our seats with a groan and a limp.
  4. The teachers are getting younger. Seriously, I’ve seen a few who I’ve wondered if they are students or instructors. This of course is by no means a nod to any of us getting older. Heck no. Just because I feel a maternal need to ask if the teacher is getting enough sleep and eating right, doesn’t mean they aren’t my peers. I love asking my son at the start of the school year to describe how old he thinks each of his teachers is. He gets that “oh no I can’t possibly answer this correctly” look in his eye and says vaguely “oh, kind of your age.” If the teacher turns out to be at least 10 years younger than me, my son gets an extra cookie. Idea: Have the teachers where name tags. Helps us avoid the embarrassment of assuming they are student helpers.
  5. Valiantly attempted organization. Even with best of intentions, we can be assured of some confusion. For example, there was some bewilderment as to whether the Open House started at 6:00, 6:15, or 6:30. We aimed for somewhere in between, and followed signs to the cafeteria to pick up our schedules. Which weren’t there yet. Soon a man came hustling in with armfuls of papers, which were then stacked in alpha order on tables around the room. Parents then had to thumb through to find their child’s name. Not exactly efficient. Good news is they included a map of the school on the back. Bonus points for that.
  6. Social hour. If you’ve been in town for a few years, you’ll see lots of familiar faces –the parents of your kid’s friends and club/sports associates. If you are new in town, it is a sea of faces who all seem familiar with each other and not you. Either way, there are hearty greetings in the halls, and quick jokes about “when I went to school here.” And we all have one thing in common: we all look weary. Especially those parents with more than one child in the school, trying to split themselves in two to get to all classrooms. There’s no time to stop and chat – we are trying to fit an abbreviated school day into two hours. So most of the conversations go like this: “Hey! How are ya! Good to see you – gotta go find the Geometry room!” Idea: I’d like to suggest wine and cheese stations in the hallways, but I suppose being a school, alcohol is not permitted. So perhaps coffee and snacks. Fuel to get us through, and areas to pause and be social.

Tonight as we thanked the teachers and headed out to the fresh air, we spoke with a couple of other parents about the lack of attendance at this whirlwind information gathering activity. I get it, we are all busy, and have all put in long days. But the teachers and administration put in extra hours to make these Open Houses happen, and this brief journey gives us a window into the day to day lives of our kids. It is worth the extra effort to be there for that reason alone.

Although…I’ll bet we’d fill the place if they could offer wine stations and a drawing to win a year’s worth of school lunches for our child.  Just something for the suggestion box.



Posted in age, education, family, Kids, school, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment