For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard conservative Americans crowing about their patriotism. I’ve heard them bragging about their support for the military, telling lefties like me that “Freedom ain’t free” and that real Americans aren’t afraid to fight for it.
I’ve read countless comments about what a bunch of bleeding hearts we are on the left. About how weak we are, how fearful of getting our hands dirty and doing hard work. If you ask them, all of us progressive ‘snowflakes’ just stand around wringing our hands and waiting for people to give us handouts.
When my middle child was about 5 years old, I found his name awkwardly scratched into the surface of my mahogany storage chest. “M-A-T-T”. Right there for all the world to see.
When I confronted the little culprit, he was silent. After a moment, he raised his tear-filled eyes to me and said, “Mommy, I’m trying to tell a lie, but I can’t think of anything.”
I was so touched by his innocence that I let him off the hook.
Aw, so sweet. He didn’t know how to lie.
Wowie, wowzers, Jeff Bezos! You made yourself a nice big, comically shaped rocket ship! And you put on your awesome cowboy hat and rode that rocket all the way up to the edge of almost space!
Whoo-hoo! You must be so excited!
I watched your fun adventure on TV this morning, while I was making breakfast for my little grandkids. They thought it was super awesome that you took your exciting flight up into the air. At the age of 6, our Ellie was impressed that you managed to stay up in the air for almost TEN MINUTES!! Yikes! That’s…
A few years ago I noticed that a lot of my friends were wearing big, rubber-encased watches. I saw those friends gazing at their watches as we strolled through various gardens and along a few beaches.
“This is a Fitbit!” one friend told me. “It measures my steps, keeps track of my heart rate, counts calories and reminds me to drink more water!”
As a confirmed non-athlete, I was unimpressed.
Fast forward several years, however, and I found myself the slightly abashed owner of my own pink Fitbit. Covid was raging, and as a good Italian woman, I had…
It’s really, really hot outside. It’s so humid that going outside feels like taking a nice long walk through a bowl of soup.
A hurricane is on its way up the coast, washing away our planned boating trip off of Cape Cod.
My local hospital and doctor’s offices have been completely screwing up the first potentially serious procedure I’ve ever had to have done.
And I just finished an 8-week excruciating process to wean off of a medication that helped me with pain, sleep, and anxiety.
I’m cranky, kids. I’m wicked cranky.
But you know what?
We got bunnies this…
When I was a teacher, a great deal of my time was taken up with helping children to manage their social lives. A lot of time was spent helping the kids deal with their anger and frustration as they interacted with other kids.
I have a very clear memory of one intervention. A little boy had been somewhat unkind to his classmate. He didn’t think he’d been mean, of course. He thought that he had just stated the obvious. But his “obvious” was painful and cruel, and his classmate was in tears.
I let each of the kids express themselves…
What a great day I had today.
It was very close to 100 degrees here in Northern Massachusetts. Not a good day to do yard work, but definitely a perfect day to go to the lake nearby.
Our small town doesn’t have a lot to offer in the way of culture, or the arts, or fine dining. We are a small, semi-rural community of folks who kind of scrap our way to a decent living. We have lots of woods, tons of deer and rabbits and fox, and more than a few black bears.
We tend to vote Republican, and…
Dear Ms. S,
Today I stood in the hallway outside of my bedroom door, listening in as my sweet Ellie had her last kindergarten lessons.
I stood there in the hall, listening through the door, letting the tears flow free.
Oh, my goodness, my dear Ms. S
I have no idea how you did it!
As I stood there, eavesdropping shamelessly on your classroom, I felt as if I had stumbled into a strange time travel machine.
Wasn’t it just the other day when I stood in this very same spot, anxious and afraid, sure that remote kindergarten would be…
I’m not teaching anymore, but I still feel the intense emotions of June. I remember 22 years of “last day of school” tears and celebrations. For teachers, that last day is a profoundly exhausting combination of delight and grief.
Every year, the nest would empty. Every year, the hugs got me through, and the promises of staying in touch helped me to let go.
Every year I cried my heart out all the way home, then threw myself into the pleasures of summer with a sense of accomplishment. …
Boy howdy. I haven’t been this excited about UFOs since the 1960s when my big brother used to insist to me that aliens were hovering over our house all night.
I could hardly sleep back then, partly because I was afraid that I’d miss all the UFO excitement and never get the chance to meet the alien beings. And partly because I was convinced that a Martian was going to crawl in my window and eat my brains.
Either way, the prospect of a UFO sighting dominated a lot of backyard conversation back then.