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Posts Tagged ‘Kids’

Dear People Who Visited Chattanooga Last Weekend:

I will not be surprised AT ALL when you get the ‘Rona. You took no precautions. I was, quite frankly, horrified.

Yes, we visited too, but we took ample precautions:

  1. We stayed in our four-person bubble.
  2. We stayed at a reputable hotel.
  3. We wore masks everywhere but the hotel room and the car.
  4. We washed our hands and sanitized ourselves regularly.

You, however, did NOT do all of those things.

Example 1: Dinner Friday night

After we went to see a movie (yes, in a theater for the first time since February*), we went to Big River Grille for our reservation. We ran a gauntlet featuring about 15 unmasked people around the door.

I felt like a celebrity on a perp walk trying to avoid paparazzi.

Then the hostess tried to sit us in a booth next to another group. My back would have been six inches from some stranger’s back.

NO, THANK YOU.

See Rock City’s sanitizing stations.

Example 2: Ruby Falls on Sunday

There were about a thousand signs saying Ruby Falls is a TOUCH-FREE CAVE. Not only is it bad for the stalagmites and stalactites (oils from human hands keep the formations from growing) but CORONAVIRUS, HELLO!

Our very-loud guide must have said “no touching” 437 times. Every single time, a guy in the group in front of us could not help himself. He touched EVERYTHING.

Sigh.

So I will not be surprised at all when you start coughing or lose your sense of taste or smell, etc.

We, however, will remain COVID free.

See? Masks. No touching.

Hoping I’m wrong about your chances,
Beth

*Matinee, no one there, wearing masks, sanitizing everything we touched

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Dear Friends and Family,

Though this year has sucked in ways large and small, I’m thankful for all of you. I have big emotions regarding a few of you, but I’ll save that for a later post.

On this day of Thanksgiving (glossing over the actual horrific origins of this celebration), I’m thankful for small things (in no particular order):

  • Apothic Red for just $10
  • Jeans that fit
  • Fozzy
  • Gideon’s eclectic taste in music
  • Dominic’s dry comments
  • Eddie’s workout habits
  • Purple nail polish
  • Massage therapy
  • Airpods
  • Uno
  • Alexa (but not Siri, sorry)
  • Twitter
  • Apple Music
  • FaceTime, Skype, What’s App, Zoom and Houseparty
  • Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime and Disney Plus
  • I have spoken.”
  • Bubble tea
  • Gus’s chicken
  • Writing ability
  • Cooking skills
  • That I can drive a stick shift
  • Ancestry.com
  • The election is over (It is. For real, Donnie.)
  • Saturday Night Live
  • The Amazing Race
  • Jersey Shore Family Vacation
  • Rollerball pens
  • Fleetwood Mac
  • Panhandle Slim
  • Frequent flier miles that don’t expire
  • Friends who invite me over just to drink
  • People who have given me a chance to grow as a person and a professional
  • The fact that the first “Happy Thanksgiving” texts I received were from the moms of my sons’ friends (three of them!)
  • A balcony with lounge chairs and good Atlanta weather so I can be outside
  • Fellow bloggers (like this one and this one)
  • The cute but not functional scarf Goat-yoga Lisa made me

Adorable, right? In the background is the not-cute-but-functional blanket I made.

For what are you thankful? Tell me in the comments.

All my love,
Beth

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Dear Dominic,

You’re killing me.

I get it: You aren’t a fan of online learning. As I told one of your teachers this week: You are not thriving in the remote environment (to put it mildly).

But you do actually have to do the work until there is an alternative.

Part of your problem is your lack of time-management skills and your habit of prioritizing things like watching “The Mandalorian” over getting your work done.

Do you really want to repeat 10th grade? You’d end up going to school with your brother.

I KNOW you don’t want that. So pull yourself together.

Love,
Your long-suffering mother

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Dear Gideon, Dominic and friends,

Thank you for teaching me how to play Among Us. It’s not often I can hang out with a herd of 14- and 15-year-old boys (or want to, really).

Side note: What would a group of hormonal boys be called? A Testosterone of Teens? A Breakout of Boys? A (Growth) Spurt of Sons?

I can’t believe y’all were willing to have me in a game AND allow me in your Discord chat. I’m a mom; it’s not cool to be seen with me, I thought.

You were very welcoming and polite.

I’m sure it took some restraint to keep the convo clean, Gideon’s handle excluded. (Gideon, why?)

I realize I didn’t contribute much to the discussion. I was more interested in completing tasks than keeping my eye on character movements.

That one time I was the imposter was illuminating. I knew immediately I had given myself away when I popped in and out of a vent. It was an accident: I didn’t know what I was doing.

Gideon to me later: I can’t believe you killed me.
Me: I didn’t kill you. That was Roscoe.
Gideon: No! You killed me!
Me: Are you sure?
Dominic: You’re so ruthless that you don’t even remember the people you’ve killed.

Really, it was more ineptitude than ruthlessness.

Anyway, I know I’ll get better with practice. I hope you’ll let me play again.

With loads of appreciation,
Gideon and Dominic’s Mom

 

 

 

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Dear Helios,

Thanks for giving us one good day at the beach. We needed it after our annual trip turned into a nomadic search for reliable Wi-Fi in the age of ‘Rona ‘Rona.

(Thank you to Patrick/Petra, Tammy and Sharon for letting us park in your homes when the beach Wi-Fi would only allow us to connect my iPad and the Roku.)

Saturday became our hassle-free day. I only had to worry about keeping my foot elevated.

Dominic and Gideon only concerned themselves with how deep they wanted to dig a hole.

Eddie only bothered with taking photos of said hole.

Back story: For whatever reason, the boys love to dig a hole in the sand every time we go to the beach. I don’t know why.

But people act like they’ve never seen a hole. Not a single person passed without commenting.

Granted, it was quite an impressive dig.

Meanwhile, I was desperately trying to blend the tan stripes on my stomach that I got from tubing. (You know: When I got stuck outside of the tube and wiped off all the sunscreen trying to wriggle back into it.)

I was taking a nap when the family started badgering me to get under the umbrella. They started calling me names (“Whitey”) and reminding me of that one time.

It was hurtful.

Me to Eddie: Why can’t I be a bronzed goddess?

Eddie: You can be a vanilla goddess.

So I did retreat to shade, but not before checking the hole.

During the GREAT DIG, Eddie and I savored some adult beverages.

Me to Eddie: What are we doing about dinner?

Eddie: I don’t know. What do you want to do?

Me: I want to go to Crab Shack.

Eddie: But we’ll have to drive.

Me: We can take Lyft.

Eddie: No, wait: WE HAVE A DESIGNATED DRIVER!

(We both look at Dominic in the hole.)

There was much rejoicing.

Anyway, thanks for giving us a sunny, mild day.

Hope you’ll be around the next time we plan a family trip.

With appreciation,

Beth

*I got into the Disney vault for that.

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Dear Gideon,

You and I are two of a kind. I always forget just how much until we take a car trip together.

You made a playlist for the trip. Of course you did.

In addition to the expected trap crap you and Dominic like, you pulled out The Monkees, The Beatles and Tears for Fears.

Also NEIL DIAMOND.

“Sweet Caroline.” Sweet Jesus!

I couldn’t believe it.

We bah bah bahhhhed loudly down I-75. It was great.

Our bladders got full at the same time.

We chose the same flamin’ hot snacks.

We reached for the Clorox wipes at the same time.

When we got to where we were going, we both had to unpack right away.

We ordered basically the same meal at the barbecue place.

Then we both died at Wal-Mart when I was trying to drive the electric cart.

Sexy, I know.

I’m sorry for nearly mowing you down all those times. I’ve never used one of these things before.

At least you always knew where I was thanks to the beeping. (Like a bell on a cat collar.)

Anyway, I’m glad to be spending quality time with you again.

Love,
Mama

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Dear Outraged Women on Facebook,

Last night’s entertainment for me was getting into it with you over “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” vs. “WAP.”

🙄

Our mutual FB friend A– is a pot stirrer. She loves to post things that get people going. I don’t often take the bait. But I couldn’t pass up the chance with this post.

I’m sure “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” was fine in 1944. And yes, the lyric “What’s in this drink?” is a joke from the time.

However, in the light of modern day, the song seems creepy. (I prefer the Legend/Clarkson reimagining.)

Enter “WAP.”

I like the song. (Maybe not blasted at our Airbnb, though.)

Men have been singing about sex and what they want for ages. Why can’t women?

To me, it’s a strong female song: She knows what she wants and wants to get it. Also — and this is key — it’s consensual sex. No assault/date rape overtones like the other song.

Well.

You would have thought I suggested that I play it on a speaker at Disney World and twerk on Mickey himself. Let me remind you of the exchange:

And R—–, your kids may have “clesn and lure” thoughts, but I guarantee you that they will not always have “clean and pure” ones, if that’s what you are seeking.

As it has been people on the political right who are wound up about stations not playing “Baby … ” and also upset about “WAP,” I’m going to make an assumption of my own:

You voted for Trump, didn’t you? Mr. Grab Them by the P—-.

So certain vulgar things don’t seem to bother you at all.

Got it.

Also, speaking of Disney, if your wholesome sensibilities are offended by that, you should not watch the Disney parody video.

Anyway, thanks for the evening’s recreation.

Good luck with your mental gymnastics — and keeping your kids safe from anything “perverted.”

Regards,
Beth

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Dear Administrators at My Boys’ School,

I hate to criticize you in the middle of a pandemic. I know you are doing the best you can. So let me just provide some well-meaning advice based on what I experienced leading up to and during Curriculum Night.

  1. Send a schedule and teacher links more than just a few moments before the event begins. You could have saved so much parent worry. It also might have boosted attendance. I managed to attend six sessions (out of 10 that I tried). The most present in any session? Five, including the teacher and me. In one session, it was just Dominic’s Geometry teacher and me. She is a lovely woman.
  2. Make sure the links work.

    This is what happened when I followed the provided link. There was no meeting code.

  3. Either extend the time per class or just have the teachers record overview videos. Seven minutes is not enough time (not even for that childhood game 😉).
  4. Strongly suggest that teachers use the same platform. Zoom worked fine. Google classroom was hit and miss. Microsoft Teams didn’t work (no audio).

I’m not trying to be a jerk to you in these difficult times. But I do want to be an active parent. Please make it easier for us. I don’t think these are unreasonable, outlandish suggestions.

Thank you.

Sincerely
Dominic and Gideon’s Mom

*Thanks to the Beach Boys.

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Dear Teachers,

God love you. I can’t even imagine how difficult your life is right now. Thank you so much for all that you do for woefully low pay.

This post is addressed specifically to my sons’ teachers.

I do not envy you.
I appreciate you.
I know you are doing the best job you can.

That said, I don’t think I will be attending Curriculum Night tonight because it is just too confusing for me.

And this is what worries me.

I have a number of college degrees.
I am technologically adept.
I teach online and have created online courses.

Yet I CANNOT FIGURE OUT how and when to log in tonight. Each of my children has seven teachers plus homeroom. They are at the same school. I’ve received SO MANY emails.

Interestingly enough, only half of the teachers have sent the emails. I haven’t heard anything from the other half. Ninth-grade teachers are much more communicative (five of eight) than 10th grade (two of eight).

Here’s the biggest problem: Most emails don’t include times. I filled out the form. This teacher did not send the link. Also, she sent that email at 10 p.m. the night before, giving parents just over 24 hours to respond.

Another teacher wants us to join during the day. DURING THE DAY! You know, when most people are working their full-time jobs.

There are only two of you who have provided an easy guide like this:

But guess what: Those two? Scheduled at the SAME TIME. Of course. You know how I know? I had to do this old school:

Nothing written means I got nothing from the teacher.

Then later — at 4 p.m. today — I got a text from the principal with this schedule:

The principal sent this ONE HOUR before the event is supposed to begin. You’ll note that the times don’t line up with what the teachers sent. And how am I supposed to attend two sessions (because I have two kids) at the same time in the space of fewer than seven minutes?

If it is this confusing for me — an educated technophile who works in education — I cannot imagine how difficult it is for parents who aren’t. Or parents who speak English as a second language. Or parents who do not have access to technology.

And you know it is difficult for the students to keep up with all this.

I can see why some students are already completely checked out (e.g., Dominic).

All I’m asking for is some consistency, at the VERY least.

Maybe I’ll see one of you tonight. We’ll see.

Thanks again in general for all that you do. These are weird, challenging times.

Sincerely,
Dominic and Gideon’s mom

*Thanks, Kim Wilde.

 

 

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Dear Eddie,

Today we have been married longer than many of my students have been alive.

Yikes.

One of your friends wrote on Facebook about her parents being married 58 years. She said, “It has never been perfect, but it has always been interesting.”

Yeah. What she said.

The last couple of years have been TOUGH for us. Hormonal teenagers, a big move, new jobs, a PANDEMIC — many factors have made it difficult.

I try to remember why we’ve lasted this long.

It can be summed up in two photos:

This is actually when my obsession with bad taxidermy began: Eddie and I were replicating specimens while waiting for a kids field trip to begin.

Clearly the same sense of humor.

In fact, this time five years ago, we were in Italy. One of the highlights of the trip was taking photos with a man sleeping next to us at a restaurant.

We ended up seeing our new friend the next day. He was looking a bit worse for wear.

Interestingly, later in the trip we became somewhat of a zoo exhibit ourselves.

Yes, those are the fish that eat dead skin.

In addition to the funny factor, you also are willing to go along with my crazy plans.

Halloween 2012: I handled the costumes and makeup. I’m crafty once a year.

We also find the same things horrifying. Like a house full of dolls and tchotchkes. Shudder.

Your face says it all.

Thank you for two great kids and many years of good memories. Hope we can keep on laughing!

Happy anniversary!

Love,
Beth

*Thanks, Paul Simon.

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