Stumbling Towards Perfect

It is not very wise to shut down every single bathroom in an office building when you have a worker with a weak bladder who consumes half a dozen cans of soda before lunch. The floors haven't been waxed in over five years and you pick today?

I have been recognized. Fame is catching up to me. Before long the paparazzi will be swarming my car as I attempt to navigate through the local Starbuck's drive-thru because I have been  recognized for my writing ! I was working late last night, partially because I had work to finish up, but mostly because I was meeting friends a couple blocks away for a cast get-together and script brainstorming session, and really, it made no sense to drive around for an hour just to pass the time, especially since it was snowing, so basically I was just staying warm in my office and not really working, but you get what I mean. Anyway. The cleaning lady came in. I don't usually see the cleaning lady because, let's be honest, I want to get the heck out of there as soon as humanly possible (except on days when I'm meeting friends a couple blocks away and there's a sub-zero blizzard making its way through town). She smiled at me in that "great; now I've got to emp

Something to really think about... Welcome To Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this...... When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting. After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland." "Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy." But there's be

Dotter:  Guess what? We had fishwich sandwiches today! Me:  Oh, did you have them for Lent? Dotter:  No. We had them for lunch.

Me: If I was younger I'd totally learn to snowboard. V:  You could still learn. You just wouldn't recover very quick when you crashed. Me: [silently stare V down to make him as humanly uncomfortable as possible]

Sometimes you have to think outside the box to get your point across. Other times you just pull stuff out of your rear and it works out like you've been doing some creative planning. Last night, I pulled. No, I yanked. Three and a half weeks is far too long for clean clothes to be crumpled up on a bedroom floor and trampled on. Teenager or not, it was time to get serious. The Bean has two dressers and the largest closet in the house, yet she utilizes none of these to house her clothes. Apparently the floor should suffice. This drives me crazy because the second you walk into the house you see straight through the kitchen into her bedroom. It's well known that my mental stability rests solely on whether or not the room is a disaster. I've given her several options: 1. Keep said room clean and organized. 2. Shove all clothing items under the bed and in the closet to give an overall appearance of "clean and organized." 3. Keep door closed at all times. Only

Hindsight is 20/20. Looking back now I would do things differently. I would NOT explain to my kids why a rule is a rule in more than six words. It's all fine and dandy that mommy feels super good explaining the why's of the world - but I wasn't raising an Aware of Others child. I was raising the next professional debater. She can find a loophole quicker than anyone I know. She knows what my problems will be and have an answer to bypass it every single time. To be honest, sometimes the answer really is, "Because I said so, that's why." I would give my kids chores "because I expect you to help." Every day. Yes. Every single day. If a kid can grab their shoes and put them on to beg you to take them to the park they are certainly capable of grabbing those same shoes and putting them in a closet. I'd start young with little tasks... I'd go so far as to ask the kid bagging my groceries to put the fruit roll-ups in a separate bag so I could hand

I probably could reach deep into my innards and pull out some snarkiness fun, but really, the truth is, I've got a teenager. Remember that stomping of the feet, pouting, glaring little two year old? It's as if I plunked her in water and she grew (like those silly sponge animals that come to life in a glass of water). Let me tell you, it is not that eay to pick the temper tampering teen up by the armpits, firmly place her on the time out chair and say, "This behavior is unacceptable." On a seperate note, I have been busy planning my Youth Retirement Party. (That's when I officially retire from the Bean's youth, also known as "What fun things can I do now that she's 18 at college perfecting beer pong.") I've decided I want to have a property on an island. Any island. The more isolated the better. The good news is that 'Hey Soul Sister' by Train still makes me smile and want to dance. Knowing that, I'm going to be just fine.