GMan is 11 and doesn’t have many friends. I’ve never figured this out; I had a lot of friends as a kid, and so did DTE. Neither one of us wants to pressure GMan if he truly is a loner-type. But at what point do I know if he’s a loner or if he’s lonely?
When do I intrude, and when do I back off?
The day GMan started kindergarten, I had tickets to see the Green Bay Packers play a preseason game in Madison. I love Brett Favre. I love the Packers. I love Madison.
I love my son, too, and the problem was… the game was in Madison, but we live in Michigan.
So what’s a good mom do? Take child to first day of school, take requisite pictures, smile, smile – then hop in the car and drive like hell to catch the football game 6 hours away.
Today I face a similar dilemma. Lucy’s birthday is the day after Thanksgiving. There’s NO way in hell I’m shopping for her that day, I work tomorrow, and her party is on Wednesday. That leaves tonight. Problem? The Packers play the detested Vikings on Monday Night Football. So, tonight we have cereal for supper, then I can take Lucy to Grandma’s, rush to the mall for gift shopping, then rush home and be in front of the tv for the opening notes of Hank Williams Jr.
Priorities.
I am a whiz at being attending company seminars and saying all the right things so as to leave a positive impression with upper management. And then I get in my car and drive home and think about what crap it all is. Customer service?! How about everyone just does their own goddamn jobs to the best of their abilities. Problem solved.
Maybe it’s these deep down true feelings of mine that keep me from ever becoming "successful" in the business world.
Thursday night we made a family trip to the mall to buy winter boots. Instead of getting the usual preview of snow that doesn’t stick, our first snow this year not only stuck, but accumulated. Both kids went to school that day slipping and sliding in their tennis shoes. I’m sure their teachers were cursing me by the end of the day when their shoes were all wet and stinky.
On the way home from the mall, I decided to spend some time talking to my son about the dangers of alcohol. I explained to him that although I had very responsibly indulged in 3 beers the night before (I left out the 3 martinis), I still had a smashing headache the next day. I said, "That’s called a hangover, and it’s one of the bad things about drinking."
He said, "I know all about hangovers, Mom. I’ve seen Homer Simpson go through the same thing!"
I guess I don’t need to teach him so much after all.
I’ve been writing for years. And years. My intention is not for this to be like my 7th grade diary, but rather, a place for me to examine my many contradictions and also to document this life of mine that I often fail to enjoy enough.
I’m Irish, and I can go on and on about anything. So content won’t be an issue. My problem is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing as far as computers. URLS, HTML, configuring… it’s all confusing to me.
I need Michele. Michele is always light years ahead of me in everything. She knew who The Police were before I ever saw them in concert. She had cable before me, she moved far away before me, she had TIVO before me, and she turned me on to blogs. Michele – I need your help!
Hopefully I’ll get this thing up and running soon, in my spare time. (Spare time? What’s that?)
