I take my daughter to speech therapy twice a week for an hour.  The office is less than five minutes from my house, and because of the whole homeschooling thing, I have to bring my soon-to-be 10 year old along with us every time.

Which, you know, on the grand scale of things, is not really that big of a deal.  They have an observation room that we sit in, and we either read books or play games on the Kindle.  Well, usually it is me reading a book and him playing the games.

For almost all of my upper elementary years into high school, I was a stereotypical latch-key kid.  I would take the bus to my grandmother’s house, go into the backyard and over into the garage, where the house key would be waiting for me, tucked into a compartment in the water heater cabinet.  I would let myself in, watch television, maybe get a drink, and my grandmother or grandfather would be home from work in two hours or so.  My grandparents were very young, and didn’t hit retirement age until I was almost in high school.

I never had any issues or problems during those latch-key years.  No person trying to rob the house or salesmen knocking on the door.  Or, if there was someone purporting to be a salesman, I simply didn’t answer the door at all.

Even though he will be 10 in less than a month, my son has a fairly good head on his shoulders.  I know he is definitely not the type to light something on fire just for the hell of it, or make prank phone calls.  He just doesn’t have that type of temperament, and never has.

I was toying with the idea of possibly leaving him here for the hour that I am away at speech therapy, what with being so close and it admittedly being quite boring for him during the sessions.

My state has no age limit as to when a child can legally be left at home alone.  It’s more of a “you can make the decision yourself, but there will be hell to pay if you make the wrong one” type of thing.

At what age, if ever, did your parents leave you home alone?

77% of you reacted favorably to Harrod’s attempt at a more gender-neutral toy area.  13% said it was easier to shop when there was a clear demarcation between girl and boy toys, and 4% of you didn’t think it was a good idea.  I am all for a bit more neutrality when it comes to the toy section.  Girl things don’t all have to be pink and purple and boy things don’t all have to be blue and green.  I purposely bought my daughter a bunch of “boy” colored toys because all that pink grates on my nerves.  I actually kind of hate pink.

Now I want to now what you think about one of the newest Facebook apps, Unbaby.Me.

I must admit, I am highly enjoying the whole silver fox tangent I have embarked upon.

John Slattery FTW!

Now it could be argued that our next contender is not a true silver fox due to the lack of silver, but I don’t care.

VERSUS

My dears, I have been out and about for the past few days, leaving me tired and exhausted at the end of the day instead of chipper and full of cheer, ready to write something that I daily pray is even mildly entertaining.  We have also had an extended heat wave here in Glinda-land, which has tried the patience of even the most optimistic of my loved ones.  Oh yeah, and out-of-town relatives coming in to visit, which will always be more attractive to me than sitting at the computer.

So, to make a long story short, sorry about the unexplained and unanticipated absence.

I suppose though, that many of you are beginning to gear up for the start of the new school year and are just as busy as me.

One of the things that I don’t miss from our formal schooling days are the damned supply lists that the school would email two weeks before the beginning of the semester.

I was buying everything from Kleenex to dry erase markers and everything in between.

Of course, it is technically not legal to send this list out, as public schools are supposed to provide students with everything except perhaps writing utensils.  Is it better to have the families pay for it than the teachers?  I guess so, except that I am sure there are some people who cannot afford everything on the list, which totals to about twenty-five items.

In my state, the idea that the state would actually pay for all needed supplies is a large joke which would have every parent doubling over with laughter.  Hysterical laughter, most likely, but laughter all the same.

Does your school send out a list as well?

Oooh, John Slattery just handed Sting’s hat to him and ushered him out the door.

Figuratively speaking.

Ladies, today our next contender is a well-known movie star who was famous way back when I was a kiddo.  But dayum, he still looks good.

VERSUS

I could totally picture my son writing this in kindergarten.

via

When I recently accompanied my son and a friend to our local county fair, I got a glimpse of my future for the next few years.

You see, my presence at the fair with them turned out to be that of a wet rag, a damper on all the fun they could be having if it wasn’t for grumpy old mom pointing out that they had run out of money for games, or that no, it wasn’t worth walking across the entire fairgrounds just to eat some chocolate covered-bacon.

But yet, I was also a necessary evil, as I was also playing the role of chauffeur, line stander, and ATM.  But my son pretty much tried to act like I wasn’t really there most of the time, which is good, really.  I mean, if he was holding my hand and begging me to ride the bumper cars with him, it would probably be some kind of red flag.

On the other hand, I’ve got my toddler, as needy as all get-out.  She is an affectionate child, so I am often the recipient of hugs and kisses and sometimes elbows in the stomach, it all depends on just how affectionate she is feeling at the moment.  She is still of course dependent upon me for a great many things, although she is much more independent overall than her brother was at this age.

It’s just really odd for me to have one child figuratively pushing me away as he gets older and tries to find his own footing in the world, and at the same time have this greedy little time-suck known as a toddler to deal with all in the same day.

Motherhood is hard, y’all.