I’m the person whose car broke down on the first day of the job.
Seriously. Broke down. Like broke down and never even made it to the office on my first official day.
Luckily, I had just met with my new boss for about 90 minutes at a cafe that is right between us (hello and much love to you, Cafe Aroma!), so he at least knew I was real and not faking the breakdown.
Crazy things happened. The learning moments were real, man!
FIRE EXTINGUISHER DAY
This is Reid:
This is Reid covered in fire extinguisher particles. Foam? Sand? What is that crap?
Have you seen this child? Hopefully you will not be seeing this picture in the dairy case at Safeway any time soon.
I lost my child somewhere in South Dakota.
OK, I didn’t really LOSE him, but no one in Seattle has heard from him in a week. He last posted to his Facebook page last Sunday at 4:30 am in Montana; my last text conversation with him was last Sunday around 9:00 am. Then silence — no “read receipts” on my text messages, no evidence he has been into his Facebook page.
Now this would normally send a parent to the brink of madness and to the doorway of state patrol to report a missing person faster than you can say “put him on a milk carton.” We’re trying to be cool, and here’s why:
He is spending the week camping with 2,500 of his closest friends on disputed land claimed by the Lakotas in South Dakota. Yes, he quit his job, sold his car, and took a bus to Hill City to attend the Rainbow Gathering. Continue reading
Cheers to you, little man. Miss you!
The end of our third week of Empty Nest happens to coincide with my birthday — so happy birthday to me?!
Seriously, I think I can talk about the situation now. It’s not as raw and I have some perspective. So here it is:
My kid is smart. Super whip smart. Certified smart in test after test. I mean, so smart it created problems from second grade through graduation because he didn’t fit in any school district box (and children shouldn’t have to! another post…).
He is also a serious dumbass. I think it’s safe to say he suffers from Teen-Lack-of-Frontal-Lobes Syndrome (if I suffer from a syndrome, so shall he). Continue reading
No more stocking the frig with this sugary stuff.
Without going into too much detail of the hows, whys, and whens of suddenly being empty nesters (saw it coming but not that fast), I am comfortable enough to share with all of you, Gentle Readers, that I went grocery shopping Sunday afternoon and had a pickle of a time. The last time I went to the grocery store to shop for just the two of us — no expectations of anyone else coming into the house to partake of any groceries or various sundries — we were 27 and 24. The Husband could eat wheat products (well, it turns out he really couldn’t… we just didn’t know for another 14 years). We ate grown-up food exactly as we liked. We bought household items appropriate for grown-ups. We bought beer. A lot of beer. Continue reading