dirt don't hurt

One version of this story appeared in the newspaper. The REAL story will appear in the fall issue of Mom Writer's Literary Magazine . Stay tuned for details, and until then...

It’s mid-August and for the past few months I’ve been carrying around in a secret and secure place in my wallet, a tiny piece of paper labeled “First Grade Supply List.” I was instructed back in May when this paper arrived in my home, to keep it in a safe place and reminded very often throughout the summer to double-check its whereabouts. I can’t imagine what would happen if I actually misplaced the thing. I’d have a frantic seven-year old running around and crying and screaming “how am I going to know how many number 2 pencils to bring to school!” Chances are this would be followed by fits of convulsion over types of folders and what brand of scissors she needed to bring. My daughter, now entering first grade, is a list-maker and a list-checker-offer. She is very concerned that everything that should be done gets done and it needs to be on time and perfect. (Consider this statement just a public warning to any of her future teachers.) She is, unfortunately, just like her mother. So ...

It is currently 10:35PM, and outside my bedroom window, somewhere in the woods, is the creature. I'm not sure what it is, but it makes a horrible sound late at night when these kinds of sounds wake you up from a dead sleep and make you grab the flashlight and shake your husband. It's a screaming/barking/yelping/crying sort of cry that makes your heart beat in your throat just thiking about it. A few weeks ago, on a night with perfect sleeping weather, everyone on the street heard it. At 3:00AM. And my neighbor, whose nerdiness is only matched by mine, also took the time to look it up online. We concluded that it must be a fox, although the jury is still out. My husband isn't due home until midnight, so I'm hoping that the creature is quiet until then. I need someone to wake up if I hear it screaming.

It is currently 10:35PM, and outside my bedroom window, somewhere in the woods, is the creature. I'm not sure what it is, but it makes a horrible sound late at night when these kinds of sounds wake you up from a dead sleep and make you grab the flashlight and shake your husband. It's a screaming/barking/yelping/crying sort of cry that makes your heart beat in your throat just thiking about it. A few weeks ago, on a night with perfect sleeping weather, everyone on the street heard it. At 3:00AM. And my neighbor, whose nerdiness is only matched by mine, also took the time to look it up online. We concluded that it must be a fox, although the jury is still out. My husband isn't due home until midnight, so I'm hoping that the creature is quiet until then. I need someone to wake up if I hear it screaming.

We recently went on vacation. A traditional family vacation, which is something out of the ordinary for us. We went to the beach. Not just any beach, a big, crowded beach. There were as many people as there were sand grains and I admit at first I was devastated. "I can't believe we spent all this money to be with so many people." Obviously I'm not a big-city girl... I said to Ryan during one of our walks between blankets and umbrellas, "it's strange how the ocean and the beach is such a part of nature, how it's a natural wonder, and yet people don't really consider it like that. It's not like going to a forest or a national park, but it's still the same thing-- people really loving to be out in nature." And even though I was sun weary and sand worn, I think I made a lot of sense with that one. Sure, the thousands of beach-goers weren't thinking they were at one with nature...but they were. Each and every one-- watching the patt...

We recently went on vacation. A traditional family vacation, which is something out of the ordinary for us. We went to the beach. Not just any beach, a big, crowded beach. There were as many people as there were sand grains and I admit at first I was devastated. "I can't believe we spent all this money to be with so many people." Obviously I'm not a big-city girl... I said to Ryan during one of our walks between blankets and umbrellas, "it's strange how the ocean and the beach is such a part of nature, how it's a natural wonder, and yet people don't really consider it like that. It's not like going to a forest or a national park, but it's still the same thing-- people really loving to be out in nature." And even though I was sun weary and sand worn, I think I made a lot of sense with that one. Sure, the thousands of beach-goers weren't thinking they were at one with nature...but they were. Each and every one-- watching the patt...

When the guests had left and the few remaining pieces of cake put away, I sat down and convinced myself I had thrown my daughter the perfect seventh birthday party, which is really saying something when your evening consisted of 16 kids and a bucket of water balloons…and you live to tell the tale. Wanting to savor the last breath of childhood before I go from being “fun-mom” to “dork-mom” I decided to go hog wild with an old-fashioned birthday party. We had face painting and beading and lemonade and individual bags of popcorn. We had party games that involved the aforementioned water balloons, not to mention buckets of water, a full-on obstacle course and personalized medals when the games ended. We ate hotdogs and chocolate birthday cake that I made completely from scratch served with ice cream that I had pre-scooped into little muffin cups. Looking back, it was so perfect it almost makes me sick. The honest truth is that I don’t like perfect people. I don’t like the mom whose clothe...

As a kid, I spent a lot of time driving to and from a family cottage sitting between my parents in the front seat of our wood-sided station wagon. The trip was two hours each way, which made for countless games of I Spy and the ABC game, as well as more than my fair share of country music. Roger Miller must have been one of our favorites, because even now I can flip on a song I haven’t heard in over 20 years and still know every word. We must have worn that cassette tape out completely over the years, and if it still exists and runs, it would be a miracle. One of Roger Miller’s most famous songs was a goofy little song that told about things that you couldn’t do, such as roller-skate in a buffalo herd, drive around with a tiger in your car, go fishing in a watermelon patch. Stuff like that that makes the average seven year old crack up and lose some orange punch out the nose. There is one verse, however, that has become part of my parenting motto. “You can’t change film with a kid on y...