The New American Vacation

Is not very different than it was from the past. I am not yet the world traveler that I dreamt I would be. I had that whole Ernest Hemingwayesque worldview before I met LawyerBoy - lots of time in Paris and Italy. That whole thing, you know.

Instead, I am the mother of two American teenagers who have grandparents with a beachhouse. God bless them. For years, our vacations have consisted of beach trips, just as long as we could get there and back. Sweet.

Thanksgivings were covered, too. Nothing like celebrating the Pilgrims with a beach walk after turkey.

So, all this doom and gloom? Not so much here. Yes, the electric bill came and while I was mildly shocked, I had to remember that it is not as bad as it could be.

Now the things that bother the hell out of me while I travel: first, letting go and letting PrepGirl drive. I have a horrible time letting go of anything, so letting her drive is absolutely painful for me to do. But I let her drive all the way down I-16 to Savannah. Does she scare the hell out of me? Yes, yes she does. But only because I am not driving. And when I take over, she and BrownBear start doing what I do to Prep: "Too close, too fast, do youseethatcarinfrontofyou? Is that a policeman? Oh My Goodness!!!!!!!!!"

And people, when you are traveling and you let your son go into the ladies room at the Chick-Fil-A, make damned certain he needs to be in the ladies room. If he is 12 and not with his mother, I don't think he needs to be in there with his sister. And I especially don't think he needs to be in there if he is peeing all over the seats. Seats I will need to be using because PrepGirl has just scared the piss out of me. Thankyouverymuch.

All Sentimental

Happy Day, LawyerBoy!! Here's to many, many more.

Back at The Beach

But don't be haters, because this time, I'm here with four girls, ranging in ages from 16 to 11. Everyone has a friend except me. I feel like Julie the cruise director. The big girls are pestering me about driving everywhere. And I am all, uh, no. Not my car. Do I look like I need a lawsuit?

The younger girls are all about going down to the beach alone. Again, uh, no.

So, I have organized a trip down to George Street in Old St. Augustine. If you see me, I will be herding cats. That's what it feels like.

Enough Said

Last night, as we were coming home from the movies, BrownBear asked if we couldn't possibly stay home from Sunday School. We were supposed to go back to the beach today, but we can't go until Monday, so they had told everyone they weren't coming and yada, yada, yada... you know the kid stuff, do I hafta go, can't we just stay home?

A car pulled in front of us and the bumper sticker quieted her questions. It read: "Choose Jesus Right Now." She began to laugh so hard, she couldn't catch her breath. And then she said she had answered her own question.

Get Thee to the Movies!!!

I forgot how good it is to go to the movies and laugh out loud. People, I am a product of the Cold War and Get Smart. Yes, the old show used to make me cringe, but people, the movie is golden. At least for someone with a warped sense of humor like mine.

Training Teachers

I neglected to mention that this class that I took this week also has a year long component. I have to mentor a new teacher and then meet monthly with the group I spent this week with. The upside? We get a stipend. Cash, American. And I also get an endorsement on my certificate. Now, do I get a raise or anything like that? Uh, no. But, I don't have to worry about renewing my certificate until 2016. I think that is when BrownBear is in her sophomore year of college.

Some of the teachers I watched this week, though, scared me. They talked over our instructors, didn't read instructions and did assignments bassackwards. And then they asked me what to do. These teachers were supposed to be some of the best in the system, and they were acting like the worst of our children. No wonder we fail them.

This Week in Review

I was going to post something tragically beautiful about Tim Russert's funeral - the ukelele playing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and then how everyone went outside the Kennedy Center to a double rainbow spreading across the sky of Washington or how my brother and sister stood in line at St. Alban's for hours just to walk past Tim's casket - but my brother, ever the stoic, said that there were more people waiting to see Tim than Reagan and he just couldn't do it. I very politely pointed out to him that the weather was lovelier than during the Reagan funeral and, please, get a book and get your ass in that line for me.

So, my children have given up on me - they won't even turn on the NBC affiliates in front of me anymore, in case there's one more mention of Tim Russert. Or Meet the Press.

I've been in Professional Development this week. I've gone with a dear friend to learn how to mentor new teachers. (Is anyone else a little scared to have me for a mentor?) Our teachers are actually very good - but thank goodness this class ends tomorrow, because I'm pretty tired of standing in a circle and singing "Kum ba yah." I have been pretty inspired about lesson planning and things like that, but my mentee had better be prepared for me. If you're doing something stupid, be prepared to hear about it. I don't have time to sugar coat it, honey. Listen hard and fix it. Kum ba yah.

Other than that - hallelujah it is vacation!!! PrepGirl has started lifeguarding at the pool and yesterday, I just had to go down and take a look. How sweet it is to see one of them actually making money and not just taking it from you.

An Irish Funeral Prayer

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Everything remains as it was.
The old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no sorrow in your tone.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting, when we meet again.

(I found this but I don't have a citation. I think it speaks volumes and not just about Tim Russert.)

One of the True Heroes of the Business

I loved to watch him during the election season; I can't believe he died today. God bless his family as they cope with their unexpected loss.

They're Back (and Just in Time for Father's Day)

In case you were going through Founding Father (and Mother) withdrawal, you can purchase your very own copy of the John Adams HBO miniseries today (!). As soon as I drop Prep off at the jobsite, I will be at the Costco, scoping cheaper gas and cheaper John Adams. Does vacation get any better? Only if the tomatoes get cleared.

No Tomatoes?

I have just heard that we are to hold off on these beauties until it can be determined where the breakdown has occurred in the recent salmonella outbreak. What? How has bacteria gotten in the skin of tomatoes? It is freaking tomato season. I live in the freaking south. I need a white bread, mayonnaise, tomato sandwich, people. I am on vacation. Seriously.

I Know What Day It Is Now

It is the day I told the Princess no. And now she's pissed. We came home from the beach and she took off with her friends like a race horse. A high strung race horse.

Tonight, she wanted to go to the movies with a friend - granted a guy friend - but I have had enough. He lives all the way across town and here in the big city, that is far, far away. They decided to meet at a "central" location. Not central enough for me - and I was going to be driving.

Now, I have had to drive them all over creation today. Not to mention that she has already gone to the beach with her friends. Not to mention that she has been to the beach with her family. Not to mention that I spent $25 on about 5 gallons of gas. And so I just had to say no. For crying out loud.

What Day Is It?

I don't know if I could live this close to paradise. I tend to lose track of the days when I am at the beach. Dressing in real clothes is also a problem - my father once went to a funeral visitation in his shorts and tennis shoes (he told me they were his good ones), and he told me he wasn't the only one. My father still hasn't turned the calendar around to June. So, don't cry for me, Argentina, but I am confused, sunburned, and finally, well-rested. The water sucks - you know beach water - but other than that - all is well.

Day One

I burned like a bitch yesterday in the one spot I was trying to avoid a three-peat. I apparently always burn right under my chin and above my bosoms, no matter what kind of sunscreen I use. I am also apparently allergic to something in tradiditonal sunscreen, so I was looking for something that wouldn't cause me to burn and something that wouldn't cause me to break out in this area of my body. Someone (who is white as a ghost) swore up and down about this miracle sunscreen - and I bought it, hook, line and sinker.

I also slathered on the Coppertone #8 on the rest of my body- the rest of my body doesn't have this breakout/burn problem. (My dermatologist and I are both in a quandry.)

I also read a novel in the pool. A whole novel. Might also have something to do with the burn, but I tell you, the rest of me isn't burned.

Discuss.

Beach Bound, Baby

I'll try to blog from my father' s house, but that is particularly hard, what with everyone looking over my shoulder. Have a great week!!