Careening between Katrina and the PTO
We are parents, and we have the meetings to prove it. Two last night, in fact. The first was a picnic at the Zervas School for parents of incoming kindergarteners. Sarah took it all in stride, disappearing like a shot to climb to the top of the monkey bars and introducing herself to strange children. I met the principal and one of the PTO vice presidents. I tried with moderate success to schmooze and network and comforted Becky, who was totally not in the mood to sit on the grass and chat and nibble on bread when others around us had pizza and she also had to pee. So I took her home to satisfy both basic human needs and then trundled off to the Riverside Children's Center meeting with parents and teachers in the Discovery Room, to which Becky has matriculated after graduating from the Turtle Room. I did a bit of schmoozing but mostly listened to the teachers lay down the rules while the girls colored in the corner.
It was another landmark along the long and winding road into The Land of Parenthood. It's a continuous journey, of course, but it's days like these that give a little jolt of recognition that singlehood and childlessness were long ago and far away. How did I get here? ...this is not my beautiful house! ...where does that highway go? ...my God, what have I done?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch in Crawford, the Lizard of Oz has no brain, no heart, no courage, no vision and no fucking clue. He's an insensitive, inarticulate, mindless teenager who makes coarse jokes to try to be popular but who does what rich and even more insensitive people tell him to. Cheney is simply an evil asshole. For details, browse events of the last five years -- but in light of recent happenings (i.e., Hurricane Katrina), see Derrick Z. Jackson's column in today's Boston Globe. Nero fiddles while Rome burns. Then of course there's dear matronly Babs, the First Mom, who commented that the evacuees are enjoying their lifestyle upgrade in the cozy, warm and dry shelters in the great state of Texas.
I just hope this winds up being a major political black eye for the administration. But a slim majority of Americans didn't seem to think four more years of Shit-for-Brains and His Scheming Buddies would be a bad thing, so I give up. Let's all move to Nepal now, OK?
It was another landmark along the long and winding road into The Land of Parenthood. It's a continuous journey, of course, but it's days like these that give a little jolt of recognition that singlehood and childlessness were long ago and far away. How did I get here? ...this is not my beautiful house! ...where does that highway go? ...my God, what have I done?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch in Crawford, the Lizard of Oz has no brain, no heart, no courage, no vision and no fucking clue. He's an insensitive, inarticulate, mindless teenager who makes coarse jokes to try to be popular but who does what rich and even more insensitive people tell him to. Cheney is simply an evil asshole. For details, browse events of the last five years -- but in light of recent happenings (i.e., Hurricane Katrina), see Derrick Z. Jackson's column in today's Boston Globe. Nero fiddles while Rome burns. Then of course there's dear matronly Babs, the First Mom, who commented that the evacuees are enjoying their lifestyle upgrade in the cozy, warm and dry shelters in the great state of Texas.
I just hope this winds up being a major political black eye for the administration. But a slim majority of Americans didn't seem to think four more years of Shit-for-Brains and His Scheming Buddies would be a bad thing, so I give up. Let's all move to Nepal now, OK?
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