Homeless, Hipster, or Redneck: A Guide to Distinguishing The Younger Generation
I remember as a teenager that my mother was often aghast and confused at the things I found fashionable. This seemed especially true whenever one of those trends was a throw-back to something she had an association with from her own childhood. When I went through a bohemian phase, I remember her asking me why I would want to dress like a hippie, the word hippie dripping off her tongue with the same contempt that one might use for the word pervert or cancer. I remember . . .
bachelorette finale recap: ashley, ben and jp
Last night was the finale in Ashley’s journey to find love on The Bachelorette. Two men, one rose, and one really self-righteous sister who almost ruined it all. Let’s begin. We start the show with Ashley reading the obligatory script about her journey to find love, the fairytale romance, the last chapter of her love story, et al. I think it is the same monologue that begins every Bachelor/Bachelorette finale show. This is the part of the finale where I like to pee and make a . . .
of skulls, yellow pants, and the awesome that could have been
Oh, so much drama surrounding picture day. Jafta's was last week. The night before, we went to a pumpkin patch. And by pumpkin patch, I mean a bunch of bouncehouses in the parking lot of a mall. We let the kids jump to their heart's content, and then let them get their faces painted. (Side note: the gal who painted their faces was a lovely young woman who was also transracially adopted from foster care. She told us her story and proceeded to thank us for . . .
dwelling on design
I've been trying to find the time to sit down and write out my weekend, and here it is almost Thursday. I've been distracted this week with filling out a mountain of paperwork for Jafta's kindergarten application. How in the world do I have a child old enough to go to kindergarten? Jafta got to have a look at the school today and he said as we were leaving, "I think this place is going to be very positive for me". I really hope so. This past weekend was quite a big . . .
faking it
If I'm being honest, it is getting increasingly difficult to write about my life in this public space. It's easy to post a funny story about my foibles, or rant about something in the media. But life at home is heavy - probably about as heavy as it has ever been. I've told the story before of how whenever someone is mean to India at school, she comes home and repeats whatever mean phrase she heard to me, in a way to become the aggressor instead of the wounded. It makes her . . .
The New “Mom Jean”
Hello dear readers. Our family is still in Seattle, acting like tourists and discovering nature. But lest my blog go blank for a few days, I am reposting from the vault. Since not posting would make it totally obvious that we are on vacation, which is a very unsafe thing to broadcast to the internets. The New "Mom Jean"I went shopping for jeans the other day, and I'm still reeling by some uncomfortable revelations.My shopping quest started because I decided it was time to venture out from . . .
Forever 21, Why Do You Hate Me?
Dear Sir ('cause I know a woman would not be behind this): I have an issue with the sizing at your store. I know, I know. The name of your store should be a warning. I'm not 21 - not even close. I know that my needs could be better met in a store called "Forever Mid-Thirties". Or "Despereately Clinging to My Youth". But still, your budget prices and sassy fashions beckon me in again and again.During my last visit to your store, I found an adorable asian-print dress that would be a great number . . .
Do I Look a Little Lost? (or, how India converted to Islam)
Apparently several people think I need saving. The Jehovah Witnesses have laid off for the moment, but today there was a knock on the door from the neighbor across the street.She came bearing gifts: some outfits for the kids, some Michealangelo inspired bath soaps, a gawdy bedazzled jewelry box, chocolates, and a brand-spankin' new Qu'ran and some educational literature on the Muslim faith. Once again, I was struck with an overwhelming need to let my neighbor know that her religious beliefs were . . .
Getting Real
Angel over at Voice of Adventure just posted this challenge on her blog: The truth is I am SICK, SICK, SICK of people feeling all alone because they think everyone else is less screwed up than them. It's ridiculous. We all have our times we are flying high and our times we are doing a nose dive. Why do we all pretend? It's all a pack of lies wrapped in a bunch of arrogance. So I am going to give it my best shot and TRY to get real on this blog. This is a get real zone. No bull allowed. I love . . .
A Load of Croc
My family has a love-hate relationship with Crocs. My kids love them, and I hate them. I tend to be on board with this other girl named Kristen, who describes them as the bane of modern civilization. I tried so hard to resist buying them for my kids. Friends were raving about their comfort , and all the kids at playgroup were wearing them. Jafta saw them in stores and begged and begged. Finally, I relented with India, because her feet were getting stinky in her Vans and sandals would not stay . . .