Let's Start a Book Club!

I am a reader. Unabashedly. Always have been. Always will be. Want to read with me? I'm going to start a book club. Right here, right now. Maybe I will be the only person in it. Maybe you will join me. Either way, I'm going to pick the first one. After that, I can entertain options from anyone who chooses to join me.

Since it is almost summer, the first book will be a summer read. This means light and easy and romantic.

Soooooo...

This. From Sophie Kinsella of Shopaholic fame. Her books are always lighthearted and easy to read. I'm going to start it right away. It's already out in libraries and I don't think it will be so popular that you won't be able to get ahold of it. It's already out in paperback, too!

Air Travel These Days

We travel. We have one home in California and one home in Illinois and we go between the two. DH and I have family in Ohio and Virginia, Kansas and Missouri, South Carolina and Florida. We want the girls to see all fifty states before they leave us for their own adult lives. They have been to 23. (Holy cow, we better hurry! A leaves us in five years!) We fly a lot and, as a result, I have become a jerk.

"What do you mean this airport doesn't have a United lounge?"

"What do you mean this United lounge doesn't have oatmeal?"

"What do you mean I'm not in boarding group 1?"

"What do you mean my purse counts as a carry on?"

"What do you mean I have to pay for my dinner? This is a six hour flight - from 4-10 pm - for crying out loud."

"What do you mean we have to walk to the Uber spot? Why can't Uber come to me where I am standing?"

"What do you mean we have to choose between these rental cars? Why can't I have that one over there?"

These are questions I find myself asking, and then I feel like a poop.

I have to work on remembering that I am privileged to live here, privileged to travel, privileged to teach and be a mama and a wife. Shut up and smile.

Are We Pushing Too Hard?

It took me eight years to graduate from college with a B.A. in Sociology. This is not normal. What we are supposed to do is graduate in four years. Because every kid knows what they want to do with their life when they are 17 years old, right? This is reasonable...or not.

In many countries other than ours, a gap year is the norm. Students graduate from high school and then take a year to travel, work, clear their head, sow their seeds, fulfill some sort of religious or familial obligation, or figure out what they want to do.

Many parents are concerned that this will lead to their child not going to college. Not true. In fact, not only do they still go to college, but they go with more of a laser focus and get better grades than they would have if they had gone directly from high school. Look it up. The studies are out there.

When I went to school, I entered as a psychology major, changed my major to English, and then changed it again to sociology. I graduated with every intention of going into federal law enforcement and then became a teacher. Because, duh... Teaching is actually very similar to law enforcement if you ask me.

So here I am, saving for my girls to go to college. I am married to a man who is currently studying for his MBA and I already have my MSEd. If my girls come to me and want to take a year off, will I let them? Yes. Will I still encourage them to further their education? Yes. In their own way and in their own time.

It Was the Tornado

So, for toots and giggles, I thought I would see if my blog from years ago was still out there. It is! It has been five years since I posted. What?!?

First thing I thought about was whether or not the title of the page still fits. It does. We are NOT in Kansas anymore (some of us never were, but that is aside the point) and DH's job still moves us with a frequency of every 3-5 years or so. Not sure why or how it happens, but it does and every time we think we're done moving and set down some roots, we get ripped out of the ground again and moved to an entirely new state. With new people. And culture. And weather. Good thing I grew up moving every three years for my dad's job. This is old hat to me, and it is proving to be old hat for my daughters, too.

A & J are surprisingly good at this. We moved, most recently, from Illinois to California. HUGE. BIG. FAT. DIFFERENCE. We might as well have moved to Mars. We live in NorCal (get with the lingo, folks. Northern California) in the bay area. We are surrounded by homes that cost millions of dollars. MILLIONS!! And they are two-bedroom condos. No, seriously! Where these people get their money is beyond me. I am a teacher, and so I signed on for a life of destitution. Luckily, D is not a teacher, and so we can eat and not be naked and things like that.

The girls are adjusting beautifully. A is growing ever more proficient on the flute and it is such a part of her life that she is not happy without it. She is in 7th grade at a public middle school and is in both band and choir. She is, in fact, the ONLY student in her school who is doing both sides of music. You see, they only get two electives per semester and they are only supposed to take one music because they last all year and it eats up half of their electives for the year. Abby is taking two musics and so she gets no other electives. She loves it, but gets a lot of questioning glances from teachers and parents alike. Probably because, here in Silicon Valley, it is kind of expected that kids take rocket science, or neurophysics (is that a thing?) or something like that, with their free time. A is smart - she is in advanced math. Everybody breathe. She loves music. She wants it to be part of her career someday. I'm gonna let her do this.

J is in 4th grade and going into 23rd grade next year. She is smart, sassy, passionate about equality, and a model and actress. Hoo boy. That's a whole other blog post. She loves it here. She is thriving. She is meant to be here. We will not be here forever. I am experiencing anxiety over the impending implosion that will happen when we have to move - be it in one year or five years. It will happen. We cannot stay here forever. It doesn't feel like home. It's lovely. And sunny. And smart. And fast. And tense. But we don't belong here, and by "we", I mean me. I love it but it doesn't feel right. We'll stay as long as we can. But not forever.