KINDERGARTEN CIRCA 1971

I went to public school for Kindergarten in 1971, my only year in public school until college. Damn Catholics had a hold on me for the intervening 12 years. But in 1971, as the Vietnam War was raging on, I parted my hair on the side and fashioned it into pigtails. My siblings range from six- to 13-years older than me, so they were a bunch of hippies when I turned five and headed off to Kindergarten at Nuview Elementary.

I remember my teacher, her red coiffed hair, horn-rimmed glasses and perpetual nasal drip. She stuffed her ever-present tissue under her expandable watch band. Classy. One of my Kindergarten highlights was getting the freshly printed ditto worksheets (dude, if you don't know what ditto paper is, f-you - go to Wikipedia and look up mimeograph). Once in hand, I would flip the paper over (we didn't print two-sided because we were too busy cutting down old-growth forests) and on the great white expanse, I would draw a big circle and fill it with a peace sign. I was five. I liked the peace sign because my sister had a peace sign patch on her purse and my brothers painted one on their doorknob with black-light paint. There were peace signs drawn all over the shoe box that held our crayons on the shelf underneath the encyclopedias at our house. So yes, as a five-year-old I would proudly draw a peace sign, knowing it was cool but not sure what exactly it stood for. I just knew it was good. Peace was good. Fingers held in a V for peace. Peace signs on my ditto paper. I was young and free and happy.

And then...The Man reared his ugly head. My teacher (who was a woman, but was my first experience with "The Man") told my I couldn't draw peace signs on my worksheets anymore. She said if I wanted to draw peace signs, I would have to do it at home. So that's what I did. Teacher said, I obeyed. Life went on. The war went on.

Flash forward 36 years later: On The Girl's first day of Kindergarten, she was given a paper to draw a picture of herself. And when she printed her name to the bottom, she followed it with a heart...with a peace sign in the middle. And the war went on.

KINDERGARTEN ALREADY?

On the first day of Kindergarten I cried a little and so did The Girl. Daddy teared up as well. But the good part is that she loves her new school. I think she was actually bored this summer, despite YMCA camp and the babysitter. She complained that they didn't have enough reading. But what else would you expect from a child of word nerds.

We were sitting at the dining room table on Sunday night finishing her homework sheet (printing big B and little b) when she let out a huge sigh and said, "Mom, I really don't like homework." And my response? "You'll just have to suck it up because you have at least 17 more years of it." And then there was a knock at my door and I was handed my Mother of the Year award for the fifth year in a row. I rule.

SO HOW'VE YOU BEEN...?

Hi, I'm the owner of this blog. Sort of left it to fend for itself the last several months. Funny thing, though. It won't post by itself, no matter how witty of a blog post I think up in the car on the way home from work. So, here I am thinking...where did I leave off? And who have I talked to in the meantime? Synopsis of the past several months: work, don't clean house, be amazed at The Kid, work, work some more, enjoy my husband, travel to Italy, work, don't clean the house, work, sign The Kid up for kindergarten, work, work, relax for the first weekend in months.

So, what have you been up to?

WHY I AM VOTING FOR HILARY

I am coming out of the blogging closet to share my reasons for voting for Hilary Clinton for President. The day after my 18th Birthday, I moved into the dorms at San Diego State and began my exciting life as a college coed. It was filled with freedom, fears and firsts. But the most memorable day that fall was Oct. 23, 1984. That day solidified my stance as a woman, as a feminist and put me on the road to self-awareness.

Geraldine Ferraro was the Democratic nominee for Vice President, running with Presidential nominee Walter Mondale. Geraldine Ferraro had the chance to change history, to make history, to be THE ONE. The one woman who was allowed in. The one woman who would truly represent me. That day Geraldine Ferraro stepped onto the stage at the Open Air Theatre (aka The OAT) at SDSU to a packed house. I couldn't get a seat, so I listened atop one of the grassy spots just outside. I remember getting goosebumps from the excitement of being a witness to history. I still have The Daily Aztec from the following day, tucked away with a few pictures from that first year of freedom in the dorms, some old letters and a couple college term papers. And I honestly can't recall a word of Geraldine Ferraro's speech. But I do remember that day was magical.

And despite the fact that Ronald Regan and George H.W. Bush went on to win reelection, I was witness to history. I became a woman that day in the sunshine, listening to the woman who tried to change America. She may not have changed the country, but she did change me. I became a woman. A woman who would stand by my sisters. I became a woman who would try to change my world, even if that only meant changing the topic to politics at the holiday dinnertable with my family. I became a woman who would always quietly whisper in the ear of another woman when her slip was showing, not to point out the miscue, but to ensure others would do the same for me if needed. I became a woman who helped my sisters when I could with a vote or a donation. I became a woman who believes that Hilary Clinton should be the next President of the United States of America.

So folks, before I go back into blogging hibernation, I just want to say that the reason I'm voting for Hilary Clinton is because I believe she is the best person for the job. And it's just so awesome that I get to take my wildly silly daughter into the voting booth with me when I cast my vote for a woman who is running for President. I hope she'll remember.

SINGING GEORGE MICHAEL

The Hubby is out of town and The Girl has no school on Mon. (holiday) and is off Tue. for parent teacher conferences. Again I must ask, is she eating paste? Can she hop on one foot? Does she pee on the potty? If the answers are no, yes, yes, then we are on track. So we are meeting the in-laws in Santa Barbara tomorrow so they can keep The Girl until Tues. after work. Do you see the beauty of this? Sing it with me George Michael fans:
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
You've gotta give for what you take

I get to shop by myself at William-Sonoma and Nordstrom. I get to go into work on Sunday to get a jump on a project and NOT feel guilty. I can eat Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch for dinner. I get to sleep diagonally in my bed and no one will pull the covers off. And that's just Sunday! On Monday night, The Hubby returns. If he plays his cards right, he'll even get a good-night kiss if he gets home before 10 p.m. Wink. And then The Child will be returned to me at 5ish on Tues. when I will be happy, rested and ready to be a mommy again. But believe me, I will be singing George Michael as soon as I make the hand off tomorrow.

SHE'S ENGROSSING

Yesterday The Girl was complaining that her dad was not playing the game Trouble fairly. Then she added, "It's so engrossing." WTF? She's four! So I asked, "Do you know what engrossing means."
"Yes, it's like when you are hearing a really scary story and you get scared and think it's real."
They must be doing something right at her co-op preschool. She's turned into a word nerd just like us! In grade school, she is going to have classmates that think she's a showoff because of her big vocabulary, just like I did! Oh, I'm so proud.

SHE'S SO AWESOME

Awesome things The Girl can do:

• tells me the number on the receipt while waiting for our food at Hamburger Habit or Snapper Jacks
• tells me numbers on signs as we drive by
• plays the game Trouble EVERY DAY and often kicks her dad's ass. FYI she beat me 2 out of 3 tonight. (V - best gift EVAR)
• Can wiggle her ears, waggle her eyebrows, flare her nostrils, roll her eyes and curl her tongue. She's gonna kill at frat parties. Or in Vaudeville.
  

Awesome stuff The Girl has said recently:

• Daddy is older than you because he is bigger
• When I roll my tongue, it looks like a private bottom vagina.
• Which one of these books is taller Mama? (After I responded correctly...) Good job, Mama! You are getting sooooo smart!

And from the backseat...

The Girl: Mom, why do we have an antenna on the car?
Me: So the songs from the radio station can find their way into our car stereo.
TG: I saved that question for you Mama, because you are much smarter than Daddy even though he is taller.
FYI she asked her dad the same question the day before, but apparently didn't like his answer.

AND NOW FOR WEEK FOUR, I SHALL JUGGLE CHAINSAWS

Oh, how I love PR. It allows me to write, be creative, decorate my office with pretty posters and use lovely file folders to hold stuff that isn't so pretty. I get to purchase Sharpies and composition books. Sigh, it's swell. I forgot how much joy I find in my job.

The best part about the job? The Kid is still frickin' awesome. Damn, I must have done something right while in the last 4+ years because she still loves school and thinks her after-school care by the neighbor girls is a triple-scoop of fun. Thank gawd. The Hubby is out of town for a couple days for work so I get to do drop-off this week. The Girl just keeps chanting "We get to have some GIRL time." Unfortunately, tonight's Girl Time was preempted by a car crash and fire on the South 101 that kept me parked on the freeway for 2 hours. My lovely 20 minute commute turned into a nightmare. But, tomorrow is another day and I will get to gaze at the ocean (and the road) as I head back up the coast to work. And while there I will use my Sharpie and possibly open a new pack of turquoise Post-It Notes.

I was sick as a dog and so was The Girl. Surprisingly The Hubby stayed germ-free. He would do a little happy dance every morning after I would rattle off all of my aches, pains and complaints. He's usually the sick one. I guess eating a granola bar for lunch the first week didn't really help my immune system. I even woke up with an earache. Grownups don't get earaches! By the next day it was in both ears and I couldn't hear for shit. Even after the antibiotics, everything sounded like I was underwater. It's enough to drive a girl nuts. More nuts. I'm almost back to normal. Whatever shade of normal that may be.

Being the totally-unprepared working mama, I have to go buy candy and face paint during my lunch hour tomorrow. In fact, I better sign off and go rummage through The Girl's drawers to make sure she has a black turtleneck for her cat outfit (ears & tail purchased weeks ago, thankyouverymuch). Gotta love a kid who doesn't want to wear itchy princess costumes. Peace out.

WEEK ONE IS DONE

My first week as a working mom is done. It went well, if "well" means "holy hell there is no time to clean or do other household chores except before 6:40 a.m. and I fell asleep with The Girl by 9:30 every night." I won't be blogging about work but I must say I do like having an office with a door again. It's been a while. Also, I made fast friends with the IT help dude and that right there is half the battle of corporate survival. So enough about my nameless, faceless corporate existence. Poof, it no longer exists in the blogosphere.

The Girl did unbelievably well at school last week. After her lunch she heads to the "quiet room" where the kids rest quietly (naps not required) for 30 min before she heads back outside to scream and play until the neighbor girls pick her up. She loves being with them (17 & 20 yrs. old). I told them they could run errands etc. with her if they needed to. The Girl was thrilled when they went to Oxnard to try on soccer cleats. Fun times when you're running errands with the sitter & not your mama.

The Hubby has been a champ about getting The Kid to school every day. I pack her lunch, set out her clothes and get her breakfast ready. Then he takes over the rest of the morning duty - dressing, feeding, school drop-off. The only hitch has been that he doesn't know how to style her hair. And by "style" I mean part it on the left and brush. I kept telling him to part it on HER left. To him that meant parting on HER right and sweeping the bangs to HER left. After a quick review on Thurs., all is good.

I think I will be most happy about my role as a working mother when I get my first paycheck. We have already been daydreaming about Christmas presents and other more mundane things we haven't been able to afford. The Kid flushed the toilet the other day and it made some freakish growling noise. The Hubby looked at me and said, "At least if the something breaks now, we can afford to get it fixed." It's so sexy when he talks about spending money on plumbing or replacing the eaves that have dry rot. Sexy sexy sexy.

It is officially October in Ventura. We had a couple crisp evenings followed by dry-ass Santa Anas. Today it was 79 when I came home from the grocery store. My throat feels chapped and both The Hubby & The Girl have the stuffy nose - is it a cold? is it sinuses? - thing going on. But I'm not complaining - sunny and 70-something with blue skies is a nice way to live.

I popped my sushi cherry last night with the family, V, Jonathan and V's new man-toy Hayseed. I ate pokie (or is it pokey?), raw ahi tuna in a delish marinade. Also tried a spider roll (meh). Next time I order any roll, I'll have to remember to get it made with soy paper because why the fuck would you want to eat seaweed?!?! Blech. Anywho, I will leave you with a picture of The Girl, her Auntie V and Hayseed. Good times.

I'M BAAAAAACK

I took a break from posting because I was so f-ing overwhelmed by the events of the last couple of weeks - crash, death, survival, memorial, scattering ashes, immense love for husband and lastly, new job. Throw in normal mothering duties and I was on overload. But I am back. I'm not sure what I want to write about so I'm going to list a couple things that are on my mind and if the feeling strikes, I will elaborate later.

• The time I picked up The Hubby at LAX with Tom's ashes
• The time I transferred Tom's ashes into another container for scattering
• Being on the outer circle of grief/watching the inner circle of friends grieve
• The power of my husband to do what's right - damn, I love this guy
• We must set up a family trust - thoughts on mortality
• The day my husband told me to go shopping and I came home with a new work wardrobe
• The Girl's school and after care arrangements - woo hoo, no more working in the classroom
  
• My new job starts Monday and so does the mother guilt, but the money might balance it out

HOMECOMING

The Hubby is coming home today, bringing with him the ashes of his friend and coworker. We will take Tom's ashes to his ex and his sons, then head home. This is the day my husband comes home and I am so glad.

SAD DAY

The Hubby has been in Sarasota for the magazine's annual boat tests. Today the helicopter crashed while shooting photos of one of the boats. Both the photographer and videographer were killed and the pilot is in critical condition. I heard from The Hubby just after the crash to let me know he was ok (he stays on the docks, thank God). He's called a couple more times and text messaged, but he is just heartbroken. The photographer was a friend to all, dad of two boys and was great at what he did. And the pilot is a truly good guy. Hope he pulls through. Link to AP story here. It's a sad day.

NO NEWS IS ... I DUNNO

I haven't heard anything official on the job front. My friend on the inside assured me last week that my name was at the top of the list. I am beginning to panic.

We are at the in-laws' for a couple days while The Hubby is testing fast boats in Florida. I love not doing dishes.

In other news, I have recently become a freak about stamps. Rubber stamps. I bought some bird stamps by Martha and have ordered a bunch on eBay. I know, I know. Get a job.

THUD

The Hubby fell out of bed last night (actually early this a.m.). He landed with quite a THUD on the wood floor and I flew out of bed thinking the ceiling just crashed in on us. While I was concerned with his well-being (he bumped his head on his nightstand), I was kind of miffed, too. The crash woke me from a wonderful dream where Payton Manning & I were just about to get friendly. Sorry, Payton, it'll have to wait 'till next time. Can you tell I'm glad football season has started?

Bad wife, bad, bad wife.

PS - I posted an updated pic on my Blogger bio. The new one is from Lake Tahoe after The Girl & I built a fairy house near a stream.

AND I QUOTE...

My dream boyfriend George Clooney is in the new film "Michael Clayton" about a lawyer who cleans up corporate messes at the price of his soul. The director, Tony Gilroy, gave the best quote I've read in ages:

"All these corporations that you talk about, they are all inhabited by people. It is not some other occult superpower that is deciding this," said Gilroy, who also wrote the script. "Every day, they go back and make a small paper cut on their morality."

Amazing imagery...paper cut on their morality.