the waiting


And the question on Facebitch, er, Facebook today is: how many people will you get behind in the drive thru at Starbuck’s instead of parking and going in?

We all been there at one time or another. We all have found ourselves stuck in what seems to us to be an ENDLESS line in a drive-thru.

OMG! The waiting! It just might kill some of us I am sure…like my facebitching friend.

So do you have a limit? Three cars? Six? Twelve?

On Facebook it would seem that six is just too much…and fodder for judge-y shaking of one’s head as they park their car and get out to go inside to get their latte. Twelve or more is just absolutely, positively ridiculous. Ain’t no one got time for that.

Right?!

But then again parking and getting out with two or maybe three or, oh dear god, FIVE kids to go inside might give one pause; especially if kids in car seats are involved. It also will guarantee that the family-size police will jump all over that…extra points when it is the vice principal of one your kids’ schools because he’s like the captain of the family-size police.

Or perhaps the weather outside is frightful and the seat warmer in your car is so delightful.

Maybe you just finished a 5 mile run and , well, you’d rather not share that sweaty, stinky, hot messiness with anyone…that is if you sweat so bad running five miles or more that you look like a salt lick. It’s a public service you are performing. You are welcome Starbucks’ customers!

You just might be THAT mom who drops the kids off at school while you are STILL in your jammies. No one needs to see that…except your favorite barista. Y’all know they can see all of you in the car as they hand you your order? The former baristas I birthed have told me stories. Oh dear glob! And my favorite barista loves to tease me when I do manage to put on clothes.

Oh, and then there is  my favorite barista. He handles that twelve-plus car line like nobody’s business while the counter guy is still trying to figure out how to spell your name on the damn cup. Just in case you were wondering, counter guy never spells my name right. But my favorite barista knows what my favorite drinks are and will often just ask if I want it hot or cold. I pull up to the window and it is there ready for me. Counter guy, on the other hand, would be asking me to repeat my drink order to him…for the third time…because a non-fat white mocha, no whip, two pumps raspberry can so freakin’ complicated.

Then there are the times where I just enjoy sitting in the long drive thru line. I have come to appreciate the time in the line to just be still, not be in such a hurry and to just get lost in my quiet thoughts and meditations.

I’m thankful for the waiting sometimes.

Bonus when everyone is paying it forward…okay except when the guy behind me ordered four drinks and pastries.

 

 

things that don’t go together


A weekend in a hotel for the Hollywood Vibe Dance Convention and Competition and YOU have to study and take the online portion of your Neonatal Resuscitation Program renewal test. Doesn’t that sound like a workable thing? Oh, I forgot, you are bringing along your 12 year old boy because your darling husband is working through the weekend. You know, the sweet boy of yours with sensory processing issues? Don’t forget that your grandgirl, who also dances, will be there for part of the weekend too.

No! YOU thought this would be totally easy and doable.

Of course you did. Until you got there at the hotel…where the dance convention is being held…crowded with lots of other families from lots of other dance studios there…with lots and lots of very excited kids because OMG!!! Kent Boyd is here too!!!! A lot of dance moms were overly excited too. Still, you imagine this will be doable. The kids will be in dance classes from 7:30 AM until well into the afternoon and then they dance competitively through the night until around midnight all weekend long. You’ll have time for sure you tell yourself.

Heh!

Did you forget the son you brought along?

But there’s a pool. He can swim. He has video games. He can keep himself entertained while you are studying and logging on to take that 9 part test. He’s a good boy. Your husband will be picking him up Saturday afternoon. You end up repeating that last sentence over and over again because he is a 12 year old boy and the last thing he wants to do is entertain himself. Your husband will be picking him up Saturday afternoon…

Did I forget to tell you that there is a hockey tournament happening here too and there are all kinds of hockey teams here with hockey players the same ages as all those dancers? Oh, and with hockey teams come hockey parents. Hockey parents who are more than okay with letting their kids play hockey IN THE HOTEL ROOM NEXT TO YOURS in the evening…until you asked them not to because it sounded like someone was being murdered in the next room which distracted you from studying and REALLY stressed out your 12 year old…the one with sensory processing issues. Apparently hockey dad didn’t think this was a problem until you told him that you thought that it might be…so he sends the kids out into the hall to play hockey. Yes. Because apparently on every floor there are kids playing hockey. They are also playing hockey in the hotel lobby too while their parents are doing celebratory shots Saturday night because their kids won the tourney.

YEAH Junior Kings!!!

Did I forget to tell you that the Internet connection is very spotty? The Internet connection you have to pay for because of course this hotel isn’t going to offer complimentary wi-fi to their guests.

So the connection keeps dropping while you are taking your test. There are hockey games, loud hockey games happening everywhere. Your son wants to go back to the pool an hour after he decided that he was tired of swimming but can’t possibly wear the swim trunks he wore because he wore them and they are wet. Any parent with a kid on the Spectrum gets that. If you don’t get that all I can say is, I’m sorry. Your grandgirl is REALLY upset because she can’t go swimming because her day is filled with dance classes and dance competition. You’re very thankful that your dancer is old enough to get herself to and from her dance classes but there are still the dances she is dancing in…and the grandgirl is dancing in. What kind of dance mom/mima would you be if you didn’t watch these kids dance?

You know what? None of this mixes well together at all.

Not.

At.

All.

So the next time you find yourself in hotel with your kids for a dance convention and there are also lots of hockey teams there too with hockey kids and hockey parents and you have work you must do for work that requires Internet access DON’T DO IT!!!

Just don’t.

Dance convention and competition is enough. It really is.

I know that my dancers think so. Hang in there girls…only five more hours to go then we go home.

YEAH!

Excuse me, I have to get back to trying to take my test before the wi-fi cuts out again.

 

no Self, you are lame!


#tutusrock is trending today and here’s why:

From Glam Runner’s Facebook page-

Excited to see our tutus in SELF Magazine … but shocked to see that running tutus are classified as lame. Especially considering the fact that this picture is from last year’s LA Marathon when Glam Runner founders Tara and Monika ran together as superheroes … because Monika was recently diagnosed with brain cancer and was running a marathon in the middle of a year of chemo.

Never mind that Self is a few years behind the trend, this BS meter is what’s really lame.

Because runners do run through the city wearing tutus…

and in Central Park.

They even put on a tutu to run their very first half marathon on their 48th birthday. Yeah they do!

Tutus are even spotted running in the mud.

Yes, Self, you are correct. Sparkly, frou-frou skirts don’t make us run faster. We already knew that. But they often make running fun. They empower us. They make us smile. They make other people smile.

 

photo from Glam Runner

The real story behind this photo is not that tutus are a “lame” fad. Despite what SELF Magazine published, it is not that “people think these froufrou skirts make you run faster.”

The real story behind this photo is that Tara and Monika, pictured here, are board members for Girls on the Run San Diego. They founded Glam Runner, a business that sells running tutus, to raise funds for the council. They are dedicated to helping grow the program in their community. The real story behind this photo is that the awesome duo were running the LA Marathon while Monika was receiving chemotherapy treatments for brain cancer.

One of our core values is to stand up for yourself and others, so we are standing up for Tara and Monika, as well as every other runner who has finished a race feeling awesome in a tutu.

Unfortunately, when Self reached out to Monika Allen for permission to use her photo in the April 2014 issue, they didn’t bother to get the story behind the photo, why they were wearing tutus dressed as Wonder Woman and Super Woman. I wonder if they even noticed that it says “Die, Tumor, Die” on Tara’s race bib. But the story wouldn’t have fit well in their mocking and declaration that running while wearing a tutu is lame. Of course that fits in perfectly with Self Magazine’s mission to help us love our healthier, happier, more confident selves; right along with their photoshopped covers.

The thing is, Self, the running community is tight knit, accepting, encouraging and we stick up for one another. Whenever one is down, another one is there to pick them up. Girls compete against each other, women and men empower each other. Rather than poke fun at women (and men) wearing tutus and running through Central Park, perhaps Self should be celebrating the fact that they out there being active, striving for goals that helps them become their all around best. Perhaps when Self contacted Monika through GlamRunner, they should have taken the time to look through their site a little more closely and see who and what they are all about. Then maybe Luci Danziger, Editor In Chief of Self, would have never had to apologize in the first place; because she would have known what Monika has been through. Yes, it indeed was an error, a stupid mistake and it never should have been run in the first place.

That, Self, is what is lame this month!

maybe it’s just me but…


Iowa dad, Alan Andersen, like many other parents, including myself, picks up his kid from school every day. Such a good parent! Still it can be tedious waiting and waiting for your kid to come to the car. I know because my darling son takes the time to say good bye to all of his teachers (past and present) and the cafeteria ladies and the yard duty workers and the crossing guards at dismissal time every day. I try not to complain too much after all because that was something I wished for him a couple years ago when I was fighting for the school district to not move him to yet another school campus. It can also be stressful because as any parent knows the school pickup/dropoff queue can be insanity on any given day. A parent can get rather stabby while trying to wait and navigate this mess that is the school pickup/dropoff. So I usually try to find things to do to keep myself entertained while lined up with all the other parents. There’s always a good book, or emails or Facebook or Twitter or Instagram. For Alan Andersen it seems that this is what he does.

For nearly six minutes he video recorded his daughters’ classmates slipping and falling on a patch of ice next to his car. Does he offer assistance? No, of course not because, um, it’s funny? Maybe. Perhaps. But six minutes?! He is recording this and laughing hysterically, mocking these kids with his daughter joining in. “We’re kind of bad people.” , they seem to agree with one another as they continue to laugh hysterically for nearly six minutes. Thankfully, it seems that no one got hurt. I would hope that if someone did he would have put the phone down and got out to offer help.

Hopefully.

Meanwhile the video has gone viral with everyone agreeing that it is hysterically funny watching kids slipping and falling on ice.

Well, except for me.

I agree with the dad that yeah, he is kind of bad people laughing at children slipping and falling on ice right in front of him.

But that’s just me.

because doing your taxes (or your kids’) isn’t nearly hard enough


Arrrggghhh!!!!

Tax filing season! It’s got to be done, whether I want to or not. FAFSAs have been filed and well, mom and dad’s tax returns are needed to complete that little bit of fun. So receipts and papers are gathered and tax prep program purchased and ready to download…

Four and a half hours later….

still trying to download…

then thirty more minutes pass and there is this.

WTF???!!!

I seriously wanted to cry.

I did cry just a little.

Who cares about FAFSAs and taxes I know that we will owe and helping the kids file their EZ taxes.

Who the heck cares about any of that?!

This screen makes me want to cry.

My picture files….

My ancient, slower than my granny paced running time laptop with my precious picture files and my writing and, and, and, and…

:::SOB!!!:::

I shut down the computer, wait a minute or two, or more then restart it and…

pray….

Please, oh please, please, please, please….

It takes forever to turn on and start because this laptop is old and decrepit. Hazel wasn’t  even born yet when this laptop was fired up for the first time.

Finally!

It’s up and running.

I spent the rest of the evening before dinner backing up over 7,000 picture files from 2013 and the first two months of 2014 onto my external hard drive because…priorities, people!

Then after dinner I try one more time to download the tax prep program and…

…twenty minutes later it is downloaded, up and running and ready to prepare the taxes here under the Big Top. And I am a quivering, Jello-like mass of feelings and stress and tears.

So much for a tax prep program that wants me to be comfortable when filing my taxes.

The taxes will have to wait for another day.