My dearest Nate, It’s time for your annual birthday letter… nine months late but who’s keeping score? Well, you probably. You’re very good with points. But it’s my blog. I’m the head ref. And you know better than to argue with the ref. Your twelfth year is a bit of…
On November third, Nate had his third x-ray. After several ambiguous days filled with mysterious computer imaging problems and consecutive telehealth appointments with nothing to report, I demanded a disk, picked it up, and FedEx’d it overnight to Santa Barbara. Our PA, Raquel, calls me on Thursday and cheerfully reports…
Every night around the dinner table, the boys engage me in some sort of intellectual question along the lines of “Would you rather…?” Apparently this never-ending stream of brain teasers originates in Jacob’s noggin. I’ve always thought there was no “right answer,” but lately it’s clear there is some sort…
The first weekend in October, Grandma and Granddad came to visit. They had just read my latest Elon post and Granddad was itching to bring his trap– literally a cage to my figurative cage match. Now it must be noted, Granddad has a long and illustrious career battling skunks. Over…
Here I was, victorious in Round 1 of the cage match that was Jaimie versus the skunk. From what I’ve heard about the social media publicity stunt that is Elon versus Zuckerberg, I was definitely Zuck. Clearly favored and ready to display my victory in my trophy room… also known…
When I’m not taxiing around teenagers and hurling my resume into the job black hole they call LinkedIn, I’m still building a house. We’re making progress and as you might imagine, I learn something new most days. For example, when it seems like you’re a million months from needing a…
Folly. Food. Football. Fathers. The final installment of our England trip rehash wouldn’t be finished without a story or two about fathers. Or as he’d most certainly say, “Dear ol’ Dad.” This was, of course, our first big trip with dad in spirit. Just a few hours in, I realize…
Folly. Food. Football. As I was wading through the never-ending internet versions of “24 Hours in Manchester” and “11 Instagram-worthy Spots” (for the record, you will not find me clicking on the latter), I came across a blog by a local Mancunian I can no longer find. In any event,…
Yes, I started writing this on June 7th, the day you graduated from eighth grade. And yes, today’s August 17th, your first day of high school. *Uh, what??* You showed up with parent homework for ME. Good thing I love high school. So here I am, finishing my self-assigned homework…
Our trip to England began with folly and fell face first into food. Jacob’s fourteen and his interests are eating and sleeping. And eating. So, I embarked on the spontaneous planning of a Man City Mother Son Food Tour. Now it’s important to note the following Eighthgradeish ranking scale: Before…