Like a whole in the head…

One of my biggest pet peeves in the whole entire, messed – up, degenerating world is back seat drivers.  May-hap this because I am an “aggressive” driver, or because I was taught to drive by a former NYC cab driver (my dad…) or because my high school sweetheart regularly played “car tag” with me in the passenger seat and then later, with me, as we drove home from school/work/Erin’s house everyday.  Regardless of the reason, I. Hate. Backseat. Drivers.  If someone doesn’t like the way I drive, then by all means…drive the car yourself.  I won’t mind, I promise.  If anything I would appreciate having a DD! 

But nothing gets my panties in a  bunch more then someone in the passenger seat, or backseat, or ANY seat of my vehicle letting me know where to go, or how fast to get there or even worse; not saying anything but gasping and clenching their fists every five seconds. 

Unfortunately, Internet, my karma sucks because I have birthed a backseat driver, even worse: a car seat driver.  My three year old is a constant pain in my ass commentator on my driving.  She has determined the purpose of street lights.  This seemed cute the first few times she pointed out that the light was red or green and what the relevant instruction to that color was.  It was cute the first few times she said “oh Mommy, we’re going fast,” even though I was totally doing the speed limit.  This adorable commentary has manifested itself over the past few weeks into me dreading having to drive her anywhere (I have a similar dread whenever her father gets in the car…)

Imagine this scenario: we are calmly driving down the streets of our fair city to daycare in the morning.  My coffee has yet to kick in.  As I turn the corner, there is a red light three blocks up.  Three.  Blocks.  Up.  From the back of the car my daughter bellows “RED LIGHT!!  STOP!!!”  When I don’t stop, because the red light is three blocks away, panic ensues as my daughter react as if the street light monsters are going to come into our still moving vehicle, take her Lamby away and guillotine the fluffy sheep in the middle of the town square.  Screaming.  Yelling.  Desperate crying.  Until I finally come to a stop, or the light turns green which cues Josie’s delightful reminder that “GREEN MEANS GO, MOMMY!”  Thank you, Josie.  They didn’t cover that on my permit test.  Or my driving test.  Or at the safe driving classes that I took to eliminate my many speeding tickets. 

I don’t know how I managed to drive 12 years without your instruction, my little traffic cop.

“When I was young, I never needed anyone…”

Humpf.  I miss my family.  Merle is great and all, but he’s not at good at cuddling as my husband, although he does do a better job of going potty where he is supposed to then my daughter.

Hope.

I was a Clinton fan, but I am happy to see that Barack has a comprehensive plan to re-vamp NCLB and provide new support (and financial incentives) to new & experienced teachers. 

In all honesty, I would love to teach for the rest of my career.  Working in a classroom with the students is USUALLY the reason I can get through the day.  I enjoy getting to know who they are, their passions and fears.  My favorite moments are when the whole class is discussing a current issue, or a past event and I end up tossing my guiding questions in the trash because the students have swept the discussion away, guiding it in a different direction and to a deeper level then I had thought was possible.  Those moments make my heart pound.  But I can’t teach forever.  I know that and it saddens me to think that in order to move my family in the financial direction it needs to go, I will have to leave the classroom, perhaps in as early and two or three years from now, and start working in school administration, either in discipline or curriculum development.  

The reality is that our goal is to move to a more affluent and “urban” section of the state closer to our friends and family.  Naturally, this means that it is more expensive to live there.  Taxes are higher.  Housing is astronomically priced and given my current salary, we would not be able to afford to buy a home there.  Ever.  So, my time in the classroom is limited.  The unfortunate truth is that in order to make a decent salary in education, you need to pursue a career outside the classroom.  It is hopeful to see a Presidential Candidate starting to address this.  Providing financial incentives for teachers to stay, and achieve, in the classroom is a move in the right direction but it won’t be enough.  I don’t know what the answer is, I don’t know who does but I am looking forward with hope that I won’t have to forsake my classroom in order to pursue my family’s goals.

Yummy….

Last night for din-din, I cooked bourbon and peppercorn marinated shrimp kabobs with a baked sweet potato and grilled squash.  It was a perfect summer meal on a beautiful summer evening.  I was particularly impress with the wine I had with my meal sans family.  On a whim I grabbed a bottle of Dancing Bull Sauvignon Blanc 2005 out of the cooler at my local Price Chopper.  It was on sale and i enjoy their Zinfandel, so I thought “what the hell.”  I was not disappointed.  For a mere $7.99, the wine was very well done and very “usable” as far as it would be an easy pairing with most foods but with the shrimp and the sweet potato it was perfect.  It was a fresh and juicy with bites of grapefruit, apple and, I think, pear but it was not too sweet, there was a herby-undernote that I couldn’t place but it balanced the ripe sweetness very well.  Overall, for the money, this is a sweet deal. 

The Possibilities are Endless…..

My husband and daughter have just left to visit his parents for 2. whole. days.  I have an entire day in front of me and the options are so plentiful I don’t even know where to begin.  I could go golfing.  I could lay in the sun.  I can go to the gym for hours.  I could hit the lake.  I can go to lunch at the new cafe in town.  I could paint.  I could read a book.  I could go fly fishing…….. 

Wait, why I am sitting here? 

Later!  I’m off to enjoy my freedom! 

I am a thief.

To blatantly steal from my bff, Gastrogirl: Do, Dump or Marry: Historical Edition.

Since I am a history teacher and spend 8 hours a day teaching my students about, unfortunately, mostly white, upper class men and their accomplishments and failures, I thought I would piggy back off of EK and decide who the Average Mom would Do, Dump or Marry.

This week: Do, Dump or Marry Historical Edition: Rulers of Empires

DO: Alexander the Great- I know he may or may not have been gay, but either way, he was powerful, rich and pretty hot (in real life – not just when Colin Farrel plays him.)  He is credited with a policy of fusion in his military, encouraging marriage of soldiers within his conquered lands and adopted many of the traditions and cultures of the people he conquered, rather then force them to assimilate into Greek culture.  I would just do him because he did spend 12 years on constant military campaigns, which does not a good husband make.  Plus!  He had a god-complex: sweet!

DUMP: Kaiser Wilhelm II - The Last German Emperor and King of Prussia.  A megalomaniac who believed he was ordained by God to rule Germany, ol’ Wilhelm did not follow in his father’s footsteps, a man who embraced liberal ideals.  Wilhelm had a quick temper and while he was a strong leader in peace time, basically handed his power over to his Generals during WWI and allowed Germany to become a military dictatorship.  He eventually had to abdicate the throne, leading to his son’s suicide, and is considered the last Emperor of Germany.  Sorry Willy that, along with your rumored relationship with the Prince of Eulenburg-Hertefeld and ridiculous handle-bar mustache, leaves you on the curb.  Later.

    

 

Marry: Suleiman I  – A Renaissance man before the Renaissance, Suleiman led the Ottoman Empire during it’s height.  While being militarily adept and fair to his conquered peoples.   Suleiman was also a supporter of the arts in his empire and married a common concubine, despite his court’s objection, because he loved her that completely (though he had a second wife as well, but hey, what can you do…the Sultan needs a harem.)  He was religiously tolerant, as possible, of Christians and Jews in his empire and wrote his wife poetry, which your Average mom finds completely romantic;  “My most sincere friend, my confidant, my very existence, my Sultan, my one and only love.
The most beautiful among the beautiful…”

BFF

Yesterday, before we ventured out into the wild to a pot-luck extravaganza, my daughter and I were sitting on our front steps putting her sparkly, sequin bedazzled ballet shoes on. 

My daughter is much like me in her attachment to her footwear.  I still wear shoes that I have had since high school and I have Chucks that I still wear from 8th grade.  I regularly get my shoes cobbled and even when my feet grew while preggo, I refused to give them up.  Josie is much the same way, she wears the same two pairs of shoes until she actually can not get her feet in them.  The shoes she was set on wearing last night are near to the end, and they hurt her feet but she wears them anyways.  She knows that there no beauty without pain….

Anyways, once we had struggled and finally forced her feet in the shoes, she looked up at me triumphantly smiling, took my face in her hands and said “Mommy, you are my best, best friend.” 

Our first bonding moment over fashion.

To the Bat-Abs at once!

Please. Go. See. This. Movie.  I am not comic book geek or a huge fan of Christian Bale’s abs (at least, not before seeing the movie) but this movie is so good, it would appeal to anyone, though I do recommend watching Batman Begins first.

The Dark Knight is full of tension and suspense and incredible acting.  I found that halfway through the movie I forgot that Heath Ledger was the Joker, I was so absorbed in the story and the character he brought to life.  Seriously, there was no sense of “hot leading man acting like a freak.”  He was oozing creepy, slimy, crazy guy and it was awesome.  It made me a bit sad that he will no longer be able to create these characters for us. 

The rest of acting was great as well.  Christian Bale does a good job showing the 3 sides of batman and Maggie G. was awesome as Rachel Dawes, very strong and she stands out as a separate character, not as just a piece of arm-candy. 

I’m no film critic, but what I can say is that I saw the movie Monday night and I am still replaying scenes in my head 3 days later. 

If that’s not enough evidence to go spend the $8.00, then how about this:

And Then Hell Froze Over

Scene: Me, cooking Bok Choy salad in the kitchen.  Daughter is bathed and laying on the floor in the living room watching Blues Clues. 

Your Average Mom is chopping Bok Choy at the counter, oblivious to the life changing event about to occur. 

Darling Daughter: “Momma?’

Your Average Mom is busy and rolls her eyes as she expects a request for pink gum or “valentines days,” aka: conversation hearts. 

Me: “What, Josie?”

Darling Daughter: “Is it time for bed yet?”

Your Average Mom drops the knife on the counter along with her jaw.  She slowly turns her now-dizzy head to the blue french country clock on the wall.  It reads 8pm.

Me: “Sure, it’s bedtime.”

Darling Daughter: “Okay, I’ll get Lamby.” 

Darling Daughter proceeds to pick up her ragged, well-loved stuffed Lamb off the floor in the living room and walk happily, quietly, WITH OUT PROTEST up the stairs to her bedroom.  Your Average Mom stands dumbfounded in the kitchen, concerned that perhaps she fried her daughters brain with too many microwaved meals unwittingly lobotomizing her.  Your Average Mom then realizes that it was a fair trade-ff, nay, a great trade-off, if it meant her 3 yr old daughter would put herself to bed without hysterics and tears and frantic manipulations for a glass of a water. 

Your Average Mom is awakened from her stunned daze by the sound of her darling daughetr’s voice melodically traveling down the stairs.

Darling Daughter: “Momma, can I have a drink of water?”

Well, you can’t win ‘em all!

My Version of “Roughing It”

It has been too long, Internet but I have been frolicking in the woods like a wee nymph for the past few days and it has taken me awhile to get readjusted to life here in the jewel of the NorthEast Kingdom.  BUT!  Lucky for you, I’m back and betta then eva.  (pronounced ev-va, not a-va)

This past weekend was my yearly sojourn with my best friends from high school.  These women have known Your Average Mom since she was a NKOTB lovin’, cut-off glove wearin’, asymmetrical ponytail sportin’ typical eighties gal.  Needless to say, there was lots of vodka, champagne, pork and mosquitoes.  And vodka.  Our planning consisted of many emails discussing the different varieties of martinis we were concocting for the weekend and who was bringing the bacon and who was bringing the chocolate and who was bringing the spare vodka.   

When we arrived on Friday, JG, TK and I set up our campsite.  This is was no pup-tent bare bones campsite.  This was something that would be been used Bedouin travelers in Ancient Arabia.  We spared no luxury.  One 10-person tent in a leanto for sleeping with four queen sized air mattresses.  One 10-person tent for dressing, with our nicely pressed party clothes hanging from the tent poles. And one screened in tent to enclose the picnic table and the cooking area, aka: the bar.  We spread these accommodations across two camp sites, so as not to be too cramped.  Plus, we wanted to be as far from other campers as possible.  Apparently Your Average Mom can have way above average vocal projection when she has had a couple Dirty Martinis….. or when she is entirely sober.  

It was depressing to have the take the tents down after only two days and head back to our adult-type lives with children and husbands.  But we certainly cherished every single moment and mimosa.  For Your Average Mom, this  yearly retreat is a refresher that rejuvenates my heart and soul.  We spend one weekend carefree and unhindered from the daily concerns of our everyday life and pretend we are 17 again.  It also reminds what a wonderful support system I have in these incredibly intelligent, funny, beautiful women.  They accept me entirely for who I am, flaws and strengths, and I know they love me just as much as I love them.   

They are less friends, and more sisters. 

So thank you, my sistas, for a kick-ass weekend in the “woods.” 

“The most important thing in life is your family. There are days you love them, and others you don’t, but in the end they’re the people you always come home to. Sometimes it’s the family you’re born into and sometimes it’s the one you make for yourself.”  – Carrie Bradshaw