From the category archives:
You have a sweet heart.
And an amazing brain. You’re a wonderful artist.
And a generous big brother.
You’re a take-charge kind of kid. And a real nutjob.
If you had your way, you’d be drawing and building and constructing and designing and planning 24 hours a day. You believe (as do I) that sleep is an irritating waste of time.
You have truly limitless energy.
Before you I was Erika. Now I’m also Mom.
Thanks honey bunny.
I just relayed this information to a coworker and was surprised to learn that this isn’t universal knowledge. Her son had just been to his first high school dance and had danced with a girl for the first time.
I told her to tell him this.
“Stairway to Heaven” is the very best song to dance to if your partner is someone you like-like. At the beginning it is very slow and you can, gasp, Slow Dance. (Remember the first time you did that? I distinctly remember how surprised I was that the guy was so warm. I mean I don’t know what I expected exactly, but strangely enough, body heat startled me enough to where I remember it to this day mumble-mumble years ago.)
The only downside to Stairway to Heaven is the awkward middle part (the “bustle in your hedgerow” area) where it is neither slow nor fast. Take my advice, keep slow dancing. Well, unless your dance partner has turned out to be a creepy dead fish, then at this point you can start fast dancing just to get away.
The best part of Stairway to Heaven is the end (starting at the guitar solo) — definitely the place where you can start fast dancing, and it is really fun especially if your partner is having a good time too.
But here’s the kicker: if you are having SUCH a great time slow dancing and you are SOO in love, keep slow dancing during the fast part at the end. Then everyone will know that you’re Going Steady. So simple!
And there you have it, a complete high school relationship contained in one song. You’re welcome. Pass it along to your kids.
(This video is a really good live version of Stairway to Heaven.)
This is my daily school pickup schedule for the boys.
At least dropoff is easier because the start time for school A is the same for everybody.
I’m clearly just going to have to get all zen about it and just get used to driving around every afternoon for the rest of my life.
Heard in the other room:
Henry [knowing a sucker is born every minute]: Give me your arm. I promise I won’t kiss it.
Ed: AEIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
Henry [proudly]: That’s an indian sunburn.
Ed [running to me]: Mommy! Henry twisted my arm!
Me: Yes, that’s called an indian burn.
Ed: What’s an indian burn?
Me [banging head on wall]: What he did to your arm.
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Somehow I’ve managed to raise the second coming of the Three Stooges. Woop! Woop!
