Ginger Unplugged

A post-it note stuck to a Scholastic Book order and placed carefully on my bed: Dear Mom, Since I know it might be 1:00 am by the time you finish watching LOST, I wanted to tell you why I wanted Inkheart (and yes I know I already have a copy). Reason #1: It is a book, not a remote control light switch [Ginger's note: a remote controlled light switch is also mentioned in the catalog, which she knew I wouldn't buy for her.] #2: Have you seen my old copy? It's torn to shreds. #3: The cover is way cool. #4: I was thinking about buying it at Borders but it would cost me $20.00. This copy only costs $5. I hope you see my reasoning. Sincerely, Princess P.S. If you don't buy it, my old copy will fall apart then you'll need to get a new one for $20.00.

Yeah, so just this morning I was blissfully admiring my amazingly bright children while organizing their cupboards, wiping off their counters, cooking their dinner, falling in the Wal-mart parking lot buying presents for their friends (Wal-mart and I have a hate-hate relationship--unfortunately we're stuck together). But it was all worth it! Because they (my children) were Turning Out . They were blooming. They were nearly BRAG WORTHY. And I really hate bragging. I even wrote that last braggy blog in all my "their blooming" bliss. And I didn't even mention how Butterfly has won the best behavior award in her class for two months running. How she got the coveted WOW award at school and is still floating around on cloud 9 about it. How she's better at being social than Oprah Winfrey (once she got over that meowing thing). Nor did I mention an email I got from Crash's teacher yesterday (you know, the "Can we please stick a shocking dog collar on him s...

There was a time when I knew everything that Princess knew and I knew where she'd learned it--generally from me. Or Elmo. Suddenly, here she is playing violin and I'll say, "Wow, that was great." "Oh yeah? I wrote it," she often replies. I wasn't even sure I believed her until I found her musical writings--scraps of paper with music staffs written on them covered with notes. "What's this?" I asked. "Oh, we can't figure out a good intro to Silent Night in Orchestra so I'm writing one." And then there was the whole orchestra and the teacher announcing that Princess had written the intro. And it was a very impressive one, too. She definitely didn't get that from me or Elmo. Then she came home the other night. "I'm in the Geography Bee," she said. This is even scarier than the music because if there is a disability for Geography, I have it. Especially on the local level. As in, "Where is my ...

Not my pregnant pain, not my hang-nail-chapped-lip pain or even the weird girl pain I get when not following the strictest diet known to man... but Amazon.com PERFECTLY understands my "Child's Astrophysics" pain. Last night a friend of mine asked if I'd ever considered writing a child's guide to astrophysics. This is because I pester him constantly about things like black holes, infrared light and the special theory of relativity on behalf of Crash (my nine year old). I think my friend is trying to get me to do my own research. Anyway, I figured maybe there were already twenty or so such guides and wondered why I hadn't thought of that. I searched Amazon's books for "Child's Astrophysics" and came up with nothing relevant for my boy's search for meaning. But still, they understand my pain. Here are some of the titles that popped up: Helping Your Unique Child Thrive in a Cookie-Cutter World An Adult's Guide to What's ...