Mother's Day 2009

Friday night the Princess took me to dinner. While making plans, she was careful to let me know that the date was intended for just her and me because she was paying and couldn't afford to take the whole family to dinner.

Izzy presented me with allowance-purchased red roses and Dove dark chocolates and several original poems written neatly on colored paper. Here's one:

Love

Love
You can always find it and
you always have it
Love comes from the haret
withought it all you are is lonely
love

Right now the boys and Coach are outside cleaning the van. Later we are going to the new dog park in Hillsborough and then they are taking me shopping for new crocs.

Ziggy just came inside to update me on the new car cleaning products Coach won in the teacher appreciation drawing earlier this week. Apparently, our van has never been so shiny.

I am a lucky mom.

But, E.B., what exactly is your dilemma?

I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.
E. B. White

You've Been in the Burbs Too Long When . . .

At a meeting in Philadelphia this past week, I asked one of my Philly-based colleagues if there was someone who could call a cab for me when it was time for me to leave for the airport. "Oh, you can just hail one from the street. That will be faster than calling one."

Oh, yeah. I am in the big city.

You'll Get Your Wish, But I Won't

Zigmaster: "Mom, will you reach the lemon-pepper for me, please?"

Mom: "Sure."

Zigmaster: "I can't wait til I'm tall enough to reach everything for myself."

Mom: Thinks, but does not say, "I can."

Dear LeBron, Dear Randy Pauch

Entries from the Zigmaster's writing journal:

Dear Randy Pauch,

I'm nine years old and my dream is also to be in the NFL. There is one connection we don't have. I missed the tryouts so I have to wait until next year when I am ten years old.

You taught me not to expect the worst and whatever I feel like I can't do, I can. When I read your speech I thought, "Wow! Why don't people talk about this guy more than they do."

Sincerely,


Dear LeBron James,

I started as just a big fan of your shoes. By the way they are really comfortable. But then I saw you play.

Who are you?

The princess is finishing her first ever research paper due tomorrow. Her topic is plastic surgery. She's exploring the therapeutic aspects of reconstructive surgery as well as the most extreme versions of cosmetic surgery. I am in awe of her AIG English Language Arts teacher who has inspired and motivated the princess to work through dinner and dance class and voluntarily spend hours at the computer engaged in her most hated activity: writing. I am also amazed at how well she writes! And at the perfectionism she's displayed the past few days as she's worked to excise excess verbiage. Along with the curves, towering height, narcissism and fixation with grooming has emerged solid traits of the drive for excellence in expression that is a hallmark of the line of women from whom she descends.