Tuesday, August 29, 2006


Today was The Peanut's first day of her second year of kindergarten. Last year, buckets of tears were shed (by me) and much pulling of hair and rending of garments (also...by me) was experienced in the weeks leading up to the first day of school. I had nights--to be fair only one or two, because I am a Master Sleeper--when I stayed awake leaking love out of my eyeballs feeling fully sure that I was sending my sweet, innocent firstborn to the wolves. Never mind that we sent her to a somewhat snooty charter school that adopts the philosophy of a play-based kindergarten and the teachers sing all instructions to the children and at the beginning of the year hand made dolls are presented to each child and they are named and generally referred to as "little ones." They come from a magical place and the children are encouraged to experience new things or to work things out through them, if such an approach is needed by the child. My child? is a damn wolf. Seriously could rip the jugular out of any other kindergartener with her teeth. She loves her little one but when asked about it on her first day back, she was all like, dude. What little one?
So anyway, last year I took her to school for the first week or so. Every day drove her little self to school, went home and four hours later drove back. 30 minutes each way. This year? Forget it. Husband drove her on her first day. No tears were shed by me or anyone else. The door may actually have hit her on her way out this morning.
We all love The Peanut and although it felt like the summer went way, way faster than it should have, we're glad to have her back at school. Now The Bean would like to know when he's going back to preschool. I'm not sure how to tell him NEVER, MWAHAHA. Or, more likely, not for a couple more months. Which, for the 3 year old Bean, is like never.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Pretty, pretty words

So. Tired. Today.
Yesterday, with the flurry of activity and the getting done of things. Today, with the attempted nap. Couldn't even finish a nap properly. Also, being able to see my words, my pretty, pretty words on display for all to see has rendered me completely incapable of saying anything.

Friday, August 25, 2006

I learned something yesterday

Mamasan is what the madams in Philippine sex clubs are called. Apparently, they are easy to spot because they tend to be the oldest and fattest women in the joint. I used to have a landlord who called me Mamasan, and I'm pretty damn sure that's not what he meant. I was a new mom, and I thought it was a sweet nickname.
But oh, no longer. I will keep the -san, because I need the illusion of respect, but I don't need the reputation of being the oldest and fattest...although, in this house, I am close...