I DId it Again. Sorry.

> Dear Zoe's Teacher,

> Yesterday I enthusiastically cleaned off all the papers on the
> counter and mistakenly tossed out Zoes wordlist, rendering her
> incapable of doing tonight's homework of putting those words in
> alphabetical order.
> I know this is her responsibility, but I feel awful.

> I watch Hoarders too much and have been overcompensating.
> Sincerely,

> Melissa (Zoe's Mom)

According to My Rules

....this is cooking from scratch.

I had to even get out some aluminum


I am trying something brave bold and new.

Instead of picking my kids up at carpickup, I've parked my car and
I'll meet them in the courtyard.

Because I'm trafficphobic, I arrive twenty minutes early and back into
an easy to get out of spot.

So far three minvans (white, blue, copper) have slowed to a stop in
front of me, scowling slightly into my unfamiliar vehicle.

I think I might be in someone's usual spot.

I imagine a tow of ponytailed khaki wearing brunette usually park
here, next to each other, and my presence has wrecked their afternoon

Because of me, theyll probably drink too much tonight, maybe one of
then will burn dinner.

I could be wrong.

Either way, I hold my ground, sitting in my car alone and furiously
write something important. (This).

Hot and Young

I'm wandering the aisles of Target with Zoe and Zack in tow, lingering in the airconditioning because our house is so hot.

We walk through shoes, toys and belts and end up where we never go -- the baby section.

The kids ooh and ah over the tiniest shoes, the softest blankets, the sweetest pictures on the packages.

Zoe pulls my hand so I bend down a little so she has my full attention.

"Look YOUNG," she commands, "so that people will think YOU can have babies..."

I straighten up and laugh at her, then   lead them out of the baby section -- from which I've happily graduated summa cum laude --  to the chocolate aisle, to the wine aisle and back to the unairconditioned  house, happy to be old and wise and hot.