Adventures In Motherhood

I prefer to admire reptiles from afar, so scaly and cold-blooded, with unpredictable movements that give me the heebie-jeebies. I'd sooner have another baby than one more pet to remind my kids to feed, until now. It seems our 10-year-old son made us an offer we couldn't refuse like my husband on our Cancun vacation, and now I find us with one more mouth to feed and wondering how we got here! It's key to put the question up front, or was that the answer? Regardless, he had my attention. Employing basic salesmanship 101 techniques, the kid hit us right between parenting guilt and Covid-19 pandemic. Though I'll admit I'm a sucker for a Google Docs presentation during 'summer brain drain' with more facts than the White House press secretary.  Sure, my youngest son and his 15-year-old brother had tried before, from snakes to lizards. The answer was always Hell No. We had no time for that!  Honestly, when you got down to brass tacks, the fourth child was vying for...

Be careful what you wish for, I'm reminded time and again on our RV extravaganza. The newness has worn off and we're now in it for the long-haul. From 115 degrees in Las Vegas, Nevada, to Portland-rain-soaked Bryce Canyon, Utah today with thunder, lightning and flash flood warnings. We wished it was cooler as the kids grew nauseous driving in the back of the bus, windows open and papers blowing from Paris to New York down the Las Vegas Strip without a generator for air conditioning, now I only hope this boat can float! I had cherished the RV resorts without WiFi when our four kids had no choice but to swim in the refreshingly cool waters of Lake Mead, or bike ride the red-orange canyons of Zion National Park. Of course our Schnoodles were along for the ride, whether doggy paddling after ducks or barking away the menacing deer, we turned Covid-frowns upside down with canines in bike baskets, ears flapping in the breeze. Besides, Schnoodles suffer from a serious c...

Last night I lay on the warm, rock-hard black top driveway of the RV park. The reek, reek, reek of crickets over the babbling, bubbling hot spring creek was meditative. Zipping across the sky, I saw flashes of light belonging to fading stars or comets. I felt like a 10-year-old child watching the curvature of the night sky like a planetarium sprinkled with stars. A meditative moment alone, I pretended I was on a Cancun beach listening to waves crash, minus the comfort of a lounge chair. I can't believe the kids are missing this, I thought to myself, which is how I know I am certifiably insane, and Cancun, minus children, the only place I can relax. As car lights approached from the right, I sprang to my feet and walked back to the RV with determination. I can't believe my kids have never seen stars in Portland, or laid on a blacktop staring at the sky! Opening the RV door I spied four kids fixated on electronics who refused to give me the time of day, let alone entertain an...

My alarm sounds at 7:45am. Still dark outside, I remind myself I am doing this for my children. The pitter-patter of rain in the gutters makes me want to roll over and snuggle in, freeing myself of parental responsibility today. I imagine it would be easier if unlimited screen time weren’t an April Fools' joke. I shove my feet into cold fuzzy slippers and mentally prepare for Covid Mom-School. What really gets to me is the lack of order. Our days blend together without a semblance of schedule. Is it taco Tuesday or take-out Thursday? Without my iPhone I'd never know. Now there's Covid homeschool. My four children, 4th grade, 7th grade, 9th grade and 11th are my educational responsibility. It's telling what happens to public education when left to the states to decide. On week three of our endless 'spring break', frustrated teachers assure us Portland Public Schools is working on a plan for online learning but have been given 'very little information' o...