end of summer

The babies start school tomorrow. Littlest will be in eighth grade, and the Boy in tenth. Yikes.

The school has advisories, small groups of students with an adult advisor, and it is a seriously great system. It’s kinda like homeroom, but with really cool teachers and food. Your new advisor is supposed to be a super-secret thing, that the kids find out about on the first day of school, or the day before via e-mail at the Upper School.

The Boy has one of his top-pick advisors (the other being the Monkman — but lucky Boy gets to have both awesome adults in his life). He’s off on another year, and truly in a good place, where it’s okay to be smart, and a nice guy, and hug your mom. I’ve known who the Littlest’s advisor will be since last spring, as the teacher (who we love) told me. Double-top-secret and all that.

So here’s the thing: the babies will be in really good places. I am completely at peace with that. But summer ending? It’s sending me into a tailspin. I’m a glass-half-full person, but this school start is kicking my ass. It’s all going too fast.

When I was two I knew what I wanted to be: a mom. Plus a veterinarian/rancher/Barbie Clothes Designer– but first and foremost a mom. So here I am, and loving almost every minute, but the world she’s a-spinnin’ faster.

Growing up

It seems like most parents forget what it’s like to be a teenager. Or maybe I’m basing all my conclusions about parents on my own set of parentals. Whatever– it seems like the whole world thinks teenagers are straight from hell.

I do remember being a teenager. A huge part of it wasn’t fun, but whatever– some bits were great, and anyway I made it through.

I challenge anyone who doesn’t ‘get’ teenagers to read/watch “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” and remain bitter towards teenage girls. Me– I hit the kleenex halfway through and don’t stop for an hour.

So my babies are both teenagers, and school is starting. Each year grabs more of their time, and I’m truly happy for them. But me? This whole growing up process makes me very sad.

Movies

One to avoid at all costs: “Open Waters” — holy shark fins Batman! So WHY did I think this had a happy ending? Could it be because movie companies don’t go for stories where the two main characters float around for two hours then get EATEN BY SHARKS?

A major keeper? “Stage Beauty”. Hello.

home

It is SO GOOD to sit in my air conditioned house and catch up with my BlogBuds. The past few days weren’t the best, and culminated in a major cold sore on my lip. But nobody wants to hear about that shit. Especially not me. SO, I’m going to be like Bookhart and Google for “(my name) looks like”

Results:
Amamgets looks like she was rather gruesomely preserved in the airless atmosphere of a perfectly irreproachable existence.

Amamgets looks like a garuda (defined by Webster’s as ‘an eaglelike being that Vishnu rides as his mount’).

Amamgets looks like the Queen of Sheba.

Amamgets looks like Amamgets.

Itty Bitty

Just finished the third “Bring It On” cheerleader movie (rented by the Littlest and her buds, along with the remake of that TERRIFYING movie I saw as a teen, when the guy keeps calling the babysitter and threatening her– then the police finally trace the call and HE’S UPSTAIRS WITH THE CHILDREN!!!!!!!! AGHHHHH!!! That movie literally shortened my babysitting life by two years).

Anyway, how do the cheerleaders keep all their bits covered in those uniforms? One group had on skirts that covered the three inches above and below Ground Zero, with yellow satin panties underneath, and I’m thinkin’ “HUH?”. In the real world that shit would shift around mid-hurkey, leaving a girl’s parts hanging out for all to see. And cheer about. So, do they have some special cheerleader uniform glue that keeps everything in place? If so, all I can say is, “Ouch!”. Poor cheerleaders. (Words that would never have crossed my lips at my high school).

In all my years of dancing I never had to worry about whether my leotards were going to stay put. Who knew then what a luxury that would be twenty years later?