Like a man

Today Finn said “I really need to be treated more like a man.”

I said I would do my best but I needed some specifics around “how men are treated”.

Here is his list of demands:

Cook my steaks blood rare

Let me cut my food with a sharp knife, like my picket knife

Let me ride in the front seat

Buy me lots of deodorant.

I said Done! And then I started thinking about how much deodorant (that never gets worn) I’ve bought recently…. and I remembered this conversation.

Driving in the car with five kids aged 10-16 after Christmas. I asked them what they got for Christmas and the 11 year old chimes in “deodorant”. Then every single kid in the car chimes in that they did, too! Some even got it from more than one person. Mind you, we were on our way home from the roller rink and my car spelled like a foot from 1984. So then I say “how many of you are actually wearing deodorant right now?” One. One out of five.

Growing up

I went to a two hour cardio funk class with LL’s squad and almost died of old age and disrepair. The first hour I felt like J Lo. I looked amazing hip hopping in my own mind. The second hour I felt like Ursula the Sea Witch at a rave on land.

Then Finn and Appie missed me and wanted to watch the Hunger Games in a pile. My legs might never work again.

In other news I watched the Great Lebowski again last night. Look at his phone! Times they are a changin.

Today I did not cry

That’s a lie, I cried once but it was because I was proud and happy, not sad. Unrelated. Plus no one was looking so it doesn’t count anyway.

But I didn’t cry when it mattered. That much is true. I was serene and composed while Finn failed another hearing test. I was kind and polite when the audiologist indicated that she was a doctor and I wasn’t when I asked too many questions. I didn’t laugh when Finn corrected her pronunciation of tinnitus and she informed him without irony that “I’m too southern to do hard i’s.” I did everything I was supposed to do in that doctor’s office and I didn’t even say “bless your little heart you witch” when I was thinking it really loud with my Botox face on.

But I’m feeling all the feels about Finn’s soon to be hearing aids. I want his life to be perfect and easy and never need tiny new batteries. I’m excited about the science that will let him drown out background noise in restaurants with a flick of his phone. I’m filled with joy that he will hear me the first $&@!ing time I tell him to clean his room and he won’t be so worn out from school. I wish insurance would do its job and pay for them but I’m thankful for my education that allows me to be gainfully employed and do it myself.

There is no blood or guts or risk of opioid addiction with this fix and unlike so many things it is fixable.

Bless his little lipreading heart, for real.

I am the chicken

Somehow the coup door got shut tonight before the chickens went to bed at sundown. My fine feathered friends had to adapt to the unsettling situation when it got dark and they were stuck outside. One knocked on the glass door with her beak like a tiny Lassie. She was trying to sound the alarm and it worked. I arose from my couch to see what was the matter! Her flock couldn’t go to roost so they decided to get high. Not smoking reefer behind the garage high, the other kind. One went to sleep in a tree by the grill and another one went all the way up on the roof. I had to perform a daring rescue for the roof hen involving the neighbors really tall ladder and Posey riding down on my head because I needed my hands for climbing. The neighbor said she was surprised I had any friends considering the nonsense I get up to on a daily basis. But I get it, the chicks were afraid, and they had the right idea going high in the cold and the dark when shelter isn’t an option.

I have spent much of the past three years going high. It took a really long time to get divorced. Being at the mercy of the court system, trying to get full custody of the kids and becoming a single income family overnight made me feel like a chicken locked out of its house on a daily basis. My coup as I knew it was gone. I had to decide which tree was safe to roost in and how to keep my chicks from falling out of my new nest while I was still building it. But all of those matters were laid to rest in 2018. We’ve spent the last six months getting out of the tree and learning to walk on solid ground again. We’ve found our new normal and equilibrium but we relish the idea of ringing in 2019. The newest of New Years will be welcomed with chins up and two feet firmly on the ground. Adios 2018 I hope I never see the likes of you again!

Mood Ring Eye

World’s most boring cartoon strip:

Finn’s eyes were this color last night when he was jolly and washing dishes like a real man (shirtless instead of apron🤦🏽‍♀️).

But this morning he woke up with eyes this color, grumpy and feverish- so we went to the doctor. He will live👍🏼

When we came home my favorite child had pulled all of the blankets off of the furniture and made a nest on the mini trampoline. 🐶

But my favorite son thought that looked like a great place to recuperate and booted him out. Now the old man is tattling on the young one. 🐣

And one throw back to me and LieLie on this day five years ago – She was Finn’s age and I had braces😆👩‍👦


Finn “why does this Christmas light display indicate the Red Coats are coming? That is not very Christmasy.”

Mateo “those are toy soldiers, Finn.”

Finn “they are wearing Red Coats and that one has a cannon👈🏻!”


We are suppose to be on a trip but life got in the way, several times in fact, so we are at home. It turns out that home is pretty great when there are no jobs/sports/homework, etc. to contend with. I’m loafing, with a side of Netflix and local tourism. In fact, come the first of the year, I might not leave and you will find me watching Netflix with a cat when I should be at work since I literally don’t know what day it is….

Yesterday the loafing involved a roller rink, a train ride and a carousel.