Just a quick snip here. I am stealing a moment to brag about one of my children. He did a triathalon this morning. This is his second one. I am so proud. He swam a mile, biked 3 and ran 1 & a 1/2 miles. He improved his time by more than a minute. What a trooper. I followed through the whole thing. He pushed so hard and tried not to complain. He told me he can't wait to do it again.

It's summer, so we scale down the 'acedemics' and focus on what really matters in summer - swimming! Today was our first day of swim lessons and we have succesfully completed one week of swim team in the early morning. We're off to a good start! Now if we can keep up the routine. If the heat continues like this it'll be a tough gig.

Swim lessons are always an adventure for our hero, Me. People watching abounds. I know I blend well with my surroundings, but it's still fun to look in the mirror and make fun of oneself. I was perked by the following conversation today. I 'read' my newspaper and listened in on the 'meeting' going on behind me. It went something like this.

Mommy #1 - "Those shorts are fantastic. Don't you just love the long look. I am so excited that long is the new syle."

Mommy #2 - "I know I don't have to tuck anymore. And with the long t-shirts I can cover up the back too."

Mommy #3 - "I get so sick of tucking from the bottom. If you pull to hard, they ride up to far and if you tug to hard they hang out the bottom."

Mommy #2 - "Have you tried the lycra design?"

Mommyy 1 & 3 - "Yes, I love them!"

Mommy #2 - "I know! They don't stretch out. It's such a blessing."

If you live where I live this conversation is perfectly normal. Based on the running dialogue in Molly's head, you are aware of what I was thinking. It's a good thing this was a gaggle of women. Sorry, I just couldn't help it. You do know that this conversation was about underwear, right? (The Mormon long john kind) I'm not kidding. I don't participate or wear it, but it makes it comical none the less. I had a little giggle.

Did you ever have a thought that the world is OK with your decision to home-school? Let it go, they're not. Which, of course, I was so helpfully reminded of recently. (Why I contiue to choose my current state of dillusion, I will never know)

Where I live, we have to, by law, notify the state that we home-school. If we excercise any other of our multitude of options (heavy laden sarcasm) we of course are required to do..........? Nothing.  (Forgive my prolific abundance of verbeage. My alter ego site is down and I must publish somewhere.)

Back to my adventure. I have to notify the state. So, I receive an affidavit in the mail and, in the past, I have had this affidavit signed by a district individual and then I mail it in. Said individual has always been at the local elementary school. Usually the vice principal. Never an enthusiastic individual, but none the less accomodating. Recently we decided to drop the accomodating aspect and just go for down right pain in the a$$. (Take a deep breath, and move on...)

Now, one would think that this task of having a home-school affidavit signed once a year would be eased by the fact that my neighbor is one of three school secretaries at the elementary school located across the street from my home. (The irony is not lost here, I home-school and I live across the street from the public school that my children would attend if they went to a government institution.) We recently exchanged friendly conversation at our annual block party. When I arrived at the elementary school to have my little paper signed, she was there. We'll call her Betty. Betty looked right at us and then looked back at her work. She said absolutely NOTHING to us. The "head" secretary looked up and said, with not a little disdain in her voice, "Can I help you?"

"Yes," I said trying to be friendly and polite, "I need to see the principal, I have some applications for him to sign."

"He isn't here." Was her dead pan response. Followed by an uncomfortable silent pause.

"Do you know when he will return?" I ask. By this point I was suspicious, she wasn't offering any information and was obviously perturbed by our presence.

"He just called and is five minutes from the school," Uncomfortable pause, she then looks up and says to me "You can wait." And, like a timid puppy, for some reason, I did. Why I didn't just say to her, "Well, thank you, we'll come back," I'll never know. But I didn't, I sat down on their sofa with my kids and waited. Fortunately the principal did arrive very shortly after my lovely exchange with his secretary.

"Hello, my name is Mr. Baird. Can I help you?" He said very politely. Could my ears mistake me? Was he actually treating me like an adult. An educated adult. Earth shattering, I know. My neighbor was still cowaring at her desk as though she had never seen me before.

I handed him my paper, explained my purpose and he looked right at me and said, "I've never signed one of these before."

"Excuse me?" I inquired

"In my twelve year career I have never had to sign one of these. I don't think you have to have anyone sign it. Who told you that it needed to be signed by a district official?"

"The last principal here at this school." I answered.

"Interesting. Well, I'll call the district for you and double check, but I think that all you have to do is sign it yourself and send it in every year."

He disappeared into his office, made a quick phone call and appeared back at the counter.

"No," he said, "you don't have to have anyone sign this. I am so sorry you were misinformed." He handed me back my affidavit and ask the children how they like home-school. They piped right up and gave a full explanation with side notes. I don't think he expected them to give quite the diatribe that they did but he was sweet and polite and bid us good day. We left with our papers as the secretary shot her pins and needles at us all the way out the door. And I am sure continued her stream as we crossed the street and made our way home.

I thought about her when I arrived home and I wondered, why did she even give a #$%? If I wanted her opinion, I would have ask for it. Hmmmm, I struggle with ignorance. And as I always say, just one of 101 reasons we home-school.

Yes, well, be careful what you wish for Molly. It really is such an all encompassing title. And I do mean title. I don't think in my case it will amount to much more than that. Our hero has hesitantly agreed to take on the prestigious position of "President" of our swim club. Don't get any delusions of grandure. It amounts to a neighborhood pool. But based on the attitudes of a select group of members, you'd think we were all part of the Salt Lake Country Club. (Insert eye roll) Wouldn't they all like to believe....ha ha.

The behavior that permeates so much of my immediate surroundings (and some of these surroundings are not by choice, they are strictly by circumstance) is truly a fiasco to behold. I live in an area that is dominated by one religion. I don't share that religion, but that's OK, it's not like these people are Baptists (heavy laden sarcasm...don't get your panties in a twist). Truly it could be worse.

Consistently in my life I witness the same strange habits. 1)We, that being the populous that I am surrounded by, like to get something for nothing. That is, cheap people, not frugal. As the saying goes, bending over quarters to pick up pennies. 2) When it involves oneself the deal must be the best and cheapest for the most expensive item. When involving ones neighbor, not so much. 3) I live in the bankruptcy capital of the U.S. Need I say more? 4) One's spiritual status is directly correlated to the altitude at which one lives. (It may be Happy Valley, but you don't want to live in the valley.) 5) And finally, when something doesn't work for you religiously, legislate what you think does work. That way it will work for everyone, right? Or at least convert them (insert second eye-roll)

There in a nutshell is a well composed, broad generalization of the religious fanatics that I am surrounding by. This loving, family oriented group makes up about 50% of the membership of our little swim spot. Based on the assertion, one would think that it was 100%, but again, delusion runs rampant. Our current president, we'll call her Edith Enthusiastic, wants to do a little "make over" on our haven. All this should of course be carried out with all the above rules in place. Materials and labor for free, any and all time access for Edith and all of her friends. (It, our little swimming pool, sits at the appropriate altitude, so that should just seal any and all desires. Blessing should abound, should they not?) And let us not forget, that if you don't like it, you can always go elsewhere. Unfortunately for Edith, you don't always get what you want. And what she wants is systematically pissing off everyone she encounters, with exception to the those in her unique little "clique". (I sometimes wonder if we are all still working with our highschool mentalities)

The manager of eight years in this case, is one of a dozen people who have politely refused Edith's sense of entitlement and so, Edith is out for her job. That and the job of every other poor sap foolish enough to cross her. Said manager called me, Molly, and ask if I would consider taking over the job at the end of the summer. The board (That's the club board) would back me up.

True to my name, misadventure, I said yes.(Did you hear the Homer Simpson, "Doh!") Because when lacking sufficient reason or situation to get oneself into trouble, take on more!! This could prove to be more pseudo-trauma/drama than I can handle. (Let's face it, only our hero could go to visit in-laws, have a good time, and turn it into a certifiable relations disaster in 7 short days.)

Next week we dive headlong (pun intended) into the adventure. It will be our annual member meeting. I'll have so many characters and goss, I won't know where to begin. I'll give you an advance run down of who to look for......you have of course, met Edith. We also have Viv from Long Island, Viv's daughter, Sophia. (Both of whom we root for!!) We have a host of lifeguards and more, but the cast is long and sordid. Our Soap Opera has barely begun, you'll have to be patient. Before our story is through you will be asking yourself, Are these people for real? Why does our hero let it get to her? (Trust me, I don't. This is purely for sick entertainment.) And of course, where do I sign up?

Stay tuned.

We've all experienced it. Our children's birthdays. Yet, each time we mark a new milestone I find myself asking, What? (simultaneously shake head and squeeze eyes shut.)

Today, was of course no exception. Six years ago today, at about this same time, I was giving birth to my youngest. Somewhere along the way, he turned six. I am....contemplative. I am.....baby hungry. (I said baby hungry, not kid hungry. HUGE difference) I now have a percocious, comedic child that likes to pretend that somehow they are not as smart as I know they are. (Who's fooling who, really.) A forthcoming individual who announced at 7:00 a.m. this morning, that on ones birthday, one should not have to participate in lessons. It is a leisure day. Hmmmm, OK.

And so, as we sing 'Happy Birthday', eat dinner at said child's favorite restaurant and indulge in a cake with way to many flowers, I ponder and then wish my youngest a very Happy Birthday. 

It is that time of year again. High School students across the country will participate in the age old right of passage we all call graduation. Recently, I had an acquaintance inquire whether this saddened me that my children would never participate in these experiences. They seem to mourn that my children would not be participating in this and many other institutional exercises and rituals. Wasn't I sad that they would never experience things such as kindergarten graduation, Jr. High, High School prom, sports games, first days of school, dances and all the 'wonderful' things that kids and teenagers do when they are in government schools. They wistfully shared stories of by gone days and expressed their excitement watching their own children follow similar paths and shared experiences as they climbed the ladder through public school.

I thought about it for a few nano-seconds and realized very quickly that, no, I wasn't sad for them and I didn't feel they would miss anything.  I felt that her pervasiveness was that of a sheep. Someone who didn't put any thought into what the institution itself would do to her children and their ability to think.

Oh, but that's so harsh and narrow minded you say. No, it isn't. My experience in these events was less than memorable. If I were lucky enough to participate at all. My experience was that of a puzzle piece that doesn't quite fit, or a sheep that is just not quite white. I couldn't muster the strength to "fit in". And it wasn't for lack of want or trying. I just fell to the bottom of the pool. I wasn't the "Lord of the Flies". You understand.

I didn't go to the Prom. I wasn't invited. And I was turned down for two "girl's choice" dances. Not a good memory. I spent 4 long years trying to be skinny enough, pretty enough, and have the right clothes and car. I struggled to be religious enough and find that epiphany that seem to elevate all of my fellow students. Unlike them I didn't find it in seminary.

Graduation was the anti-climax of 4 miserable years in an institution that I bucked from the moment I entered. (I am that kind of person, contradictory, if you think the sky is blue, I'll say that it is grey.) I realized as I finished my first year of college that all those rituals, didn't matter. It wasn't what real life was like. It was..life in a bubble. The experience did not prepare me to enter my first job, or make my first major purchase requiring a loan and it most definitely didn't prepare me for college. No, those 12 years that we expect every young person to endure, are not years that I will mourn for my children.

So, when witnessing the annual "rite of passage" and you mourn for those of us whose children will not participate, don't. We are making our own memories and creating our own rites of passage. We started a new one this weekend, the annual marathon in our city. My children participated in the kids marathon and immediately upon completion, ask if we could do it again. So we signed up for the kids 5k coming up in 3 weeks. Now that my friends, is a rite of passage. A first in a long list of races that they are planning to participate in. We 'graduated' to a new lane in swim team, that is our rite of passage. We 'graduated' to the next level in our curriculum, and we are celebrating. My youngest lost his first two teeth, we had ice cream. And on Wednesday my baby will advance to the age of 6. (6 is magic you know.)

Mine will hopefully create their own memories. On their terms in their own time. They will make mistakes, but theirs will be different from mine. They will have memories and new challenges but I hope they have what can be wholly their own, not mine. I can only live with them, not through them. They can not do for me what I may have missed out on. For better or worse. And I do not expect them to perform in those areas that I may have failed in....or even succeeded.

See, we are still passing off all the requirements of childhood. We're just making our own!

Unlike my my cyber personality, it takes some doing to ruffle my feathers. But some days it just doesn't pay to hover. My heart hurts today for the world that my children may face  as they grow up. My religion has been hi-jacked, politicized and is working like gang-busters to legislate any and all that seems morally fit.

I expressed my frustration recently to a sweet reverend. I could have kissed him when I was gently reminded to look to my left and look to my right, breathe, and just keep swimming. Thank you Reverend Goldsmith. And thank you to heaven for sending this wonderful man to my church, my city and this earth.

The ruffling began with this question and it escalated in the current events section from there. What a dismal picture I find when reading what people think of current proposals for legislation in marriage, immigration and so much more.

I find it ironic that I ask a simple question. A simple yes or no answer is all that is required. Good grief, 200+ responses later I find that I have opened up the proverbial can of worms. I didn't ask a loaded question. I am not that sadistic. I know not to even broach certain subjects let alone respond to them when others are brave or naive enough to pose them. Like I said, somedays it just doesn't pay to even get out of bed. I suppose my avoidance of forums is a good idea. I'll stick to my original plan, get out, stay out. At least for a little while.

Remember when.........you were in highschool and every buck, bruiser, jock and john you encountered, at some point in their short careers, dreamed of being in a band? They gathered in the halls and exchanged knowledge of bands, songs and singers. They sat in their cars and turned it up way to loud. They played 'air guitar'.

I wish I had a taperecorder. I would play the sound emitting from my basement. Try to imagine a radio transmitter circa 1942, and a humming loud speaker translating the latest dog howl. It is my children. They are putting Legos together downstairs and comparing their favorite tunes from 'Guitar Hero'. (It's a video game. I believe I have neglected my children to it in the past.) They are 'singing' songs to each other, complete with the guitar solos, accapella, and then telling the other to guess the title of the song. I should be scared. They are singing 'Bark At the Moon' by Ozzy Ozbourne. Hmmmm.

Oh the talent of my children. I really better go settle them down, the dog next door is joining in. Ohp, there goes the rotwieler two doors down. Happy strumin' folks. May all your educational journeys be as enlightning. But perhaps a little less peircing to the ear.

The title would allude you to think that we have been without one. Now that it is warm outside I think that my neighbors are of this opinion. My children can't seem to find the time to come indoors. For anything!!

I find them, frequently, dropping trough and lettin' it go where ever they stand. This tends to happen in our yard, thankfully and not in other public places. Today, though, one of my children decided to practice his long shot. Over the fence into the neighbors yard. This entertaining event just happen to take place as I was attending the new pond in our back yard and as my neighbor arrived home from work.

He stopped, looked at my son and asked "Markin' your territory there bud?"

I whirled around to find my son lettin' her rip on the neighbor's lawn. Thank God he has a sense of humor. Oh horrors.

Speaking of Bookstores, I envy writers. They're so good at it, most of them. And some, who are so good at it, don't write a book. Why? I peek at Books and Bairns from time to time and I am always awed at what simple events she can wind into eloquent prose. I liked her post, just thought I would say.

Then there are those out there, many listed to the right, who find the most wonderful things to share, I wish I could have a cup of coffee with you all. I dream of adult conversation. Without children interupting my every thought.(Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom........Yes, that's my name. Everyday of your life.) A conversation free of my screaming voice periodically penetrating the air as I herd them out of the room so I can say grown-up things. (Oooo, your neighbor did what?) Or stop them from doing those infernal 'kid' things. (No, the we don't eat cereal in the bedroom...on Mom's bed!)

Such a glamorous life we lead, eh? And we were possesed to add an education at home to the mix. I love insanity. Especially when it comes in groups. Birds of a feather will flock together. Oooo, maybe that means if I lurk a little more at these spectacular blogs, I might get better at myself...Hmmmm. Ugh, who has the time?