We’ve reached the point in autumn where I periodically stand in front of the wood stove to warm up.
Ames joined the tech crew this week. Chris is editing music, shooting photos, and dancing as a Party Dad. I am delivering food and pinning hair and I cannot believe I get to do this with these people.
It’s taken me nearly two decades to figure out where I fit in as a mom of children who attend public school. Enter the academic policy committee, a parent-and-teacher committee whose main job is to hire (or fire) a charter school’s principal and help set the vision and direction of and for the school. I am having a blast, feeling both alive and at home in my bones serving in this way.
On the one hand, it would be nice to have a family or an outfit or a food photo once in awhile. On the other hand, it feels so incredibly good to go days without thinking about or planning or shooting or editing or posting said it photo. Happy Thanksgiving, all. Today was beautiful and I have absolutely nothing to show for it.
Another day, another shooting, another sit-down with my children who already know more than most adults the difference between the right to bear arms and the accountability that much accompany such privilege.
Have you ever associated a single task with a single thought just one time, and then the two are inextricably linked forever?
I remember talking with a friend in elementary school, soon after learning to shave my legs (it was the end of fourth grade, when a boy called attention to my leg hair and my mom conceded). Anyway, so I’m excitedly broadcasting the news to my friend and she goes, my sister says you should shave across your knee, not up and down, so that you don’t cut yourself. I filed that tip away and to this day, I cannot touch a razor to my leg without picturing an elementary school acquaintance’s wiser older sister. Thank you for your service.
We ventured into a new era of parenting tonight, after receiving a mildly concerning behavior report regarding my twin daughters. We used the feelings wheel and walked the fine line between you should not care what people think and also reputation affects future opportunity. There were tears and hugs and written apologies and a plan for a fresh start. During the long and emotional evening, we interrupted by a phone, a local kid wanting to apologize for something something unrelated but which also affected said twin daughters. I love parenting tweens in this town.