working mom 24/7

I was about to graduate 8th grade and was at a friend's house when I met the boy who was staying across the street for the summer. He lived in Alaska and was visiting his grandparents. My friend informed me the next day that he was interested in me. I told her she could give him my phone number. We talked on the phone once before going out a few days later. The plan was that my mom would drive us to the movies and his sister would pick us up. We were dropped off early because he told my mom he wanted to surprise me by taking me out to dinner. We got into the restaurant, he looked at the menu and said, "This is too expensive" and we walked out. Popcorn was my dinner. We found our seats and started chatting, he seemed bored by what I was saying. He interrupted me and asked, "What do you like to do when you go to the movies?" I was confused, "What do you mean?" He responded in an accusatory tone, "I mean when you go to the movies do you actually W

Phone calls in the middle of school days Holding my breath in between them No invitations to birthday parties Having to stay at soccer practice or he can't play Spending the day in the principal's office Begging him to use his words not his body Other kids provoking him to get him in trouble Not making it through a day of day camp Teasing other kids because he has been teased Talking about things that freak other kids out Unwilling to read for 10 minutes Saying he is no good and no one loves him Coming home crying, "I had a bad day and I'm stupid!" Leaving SSTs and IEPS in tears Learning to breathe and count to 10 Walking to school and enjoying it Making new friends Understanding how to have conversations with peers Principals & teachers who have his back and teach him to be kind because they are kind Abandoning soccer and enjoying baseball Kids like having him on their team New families enjoy having him over, "He is polite and swe

I've been reading a lot about the rape case on the Stanford Campus, and the brave woman whose name I don't know who is still living her nightmare 18 months later. My heart breaks for her as she tries to put the broken pieces of her spirit back together. While my heart is breaking my body and soul are angry at the justice not done.  I am disgusted by the fact that the man responsible never fessed up to what he did, and that his family isn't teaching him to accept responsibility. They have this "boys will be boys" attitude, which to me means he couldn't help himself. Do Brock and his father not realize what an insult that is to men everywhere? I have a long list of men who would be insulted by that and here they are: 1. My brothers, who were not only protective of their sister, but of all girls and women, especially if they saw someone creepy hanging all over them. 2. My father who taught me that I deserved to have men in my life who were worthy of me. 3.

As I watch my daughter's plane take off it sinks in for me how in awe I am of her. At thirteen years old she is so much more self assured than I ever was. This is her second time flying by herself and while she still likes me to walk her to the gate, she's quite comfortable being on her own. This isn't one of those posts where I go on to talk about how amazing my child is, in fact, this is one where there is acceptance about how by most standards she is quite average. She's not a straight A student, if she could find a way to opt out of math and science she would do it in heart beat. Her current goal consists of how she might convince all her teachers that homework isn't nearly as important as sleeping or hanging out with friends. She isn't a super star athlete. She has dabbled in cross country, track, softball and dance and enjoyed them all but never pushed herself to master or even improve in those sports. She has been in some musicals and plays, but is curre

   "Mommy," Charlie asked a few days ago, "What if I'm sick on Tuesday? Will I still go to camp?" Up to this point all my nine year old had talked about was how excited he was to go away to camp because his dad and I wouldn't be there to tell him what to do. My stomach knotted up when he asked this question. Was this normal pre-camp jitters, or was he "planning" to get sick so that he wouldn't be able to go? Since I wasn't sure I simply answered the question.    "If you feel sick on Tuesday, you will stay home and we will take you to camp when you're feeling better." I held my breath for his response.     "Okay," he said casually, and that was it.  He asked a simple question and wanted an answer that would let him know what he could expect; typical of him. I allowed everything I knew about my son to go out the window when he asked about camp because the truth is: I was anxious. Last summer he wanted to go and Rich

I am proud of my kids several times a day, every day. This isn't to say that I'm also not disappointed or frustrated with them from time to time, but I am ALWAYS proud of them, here's why: I am proud of my daughter not for the A she brought home on her social studies test, but for her interest in learning about our state, and her willingness to study hard so that she can do her best. I am proud of my son for taking responsibility for hitting another child, and accepting his consequences by spending the day with the principal without once begging not to have to do it and without tears. I am proud of my daughter for  making up with her friend and forgiving the past and moving forward. I am proud of my son for yelling, "I'm frustrated, " when he was angry with me, instead of throwing things across his room. I am proud of my daughter when she makes cards for her cousins who lost their father much too early in their lives. I am proud of my son when he