Wouldn’t It Be Nice…

Fri., February 6, 12:08 PM

Wouldn’t it be nice if there really wasn’t any news more important than Janet Jackson’s disrobing in public? (And to think of how I had to fight to nurse my babies in the “public” of my mother’s living room!) Somehow, our local newspaper found it more important than the story of the child killed in Sarasota, which was hidden on an inside page. Wouldn’t it be nice if journalists just reported the news instead of believing that they controlled it?

Reminds me of an old joke, quoting a graduate: “Just think, four years ago I didn’t even know what a journalist was, and now I are one!”

And how come the darned grammar checker didn’t catch that?

Anyhow, this is another lost day, which puts me in a foul state of mind. I only worked two days this week because I had extra doctors’ appointments, and I needed this day for errands…and it is now sleeting on top of the new snow that fell just before sunrise. I can’t go out in this – at least not until this afternoon, if then – and I am mentally reshuffling all the things I have to do, not to mention trying to figure out some kind of exercise I can do within the confines of the Cheesebox. Up and down from the cellar a few times may help. I want to scream. I am so tempted to sit at the computer and play games all day – not that it solves any problems, but at least it makes me feel good.


Well, my reliable snow removers have been here, and the drive and the walks have been cleared. But the street hasn’t been plowed yet and, meanwhile, I’ve already messed things up by eating because I was going to have blood drawn this morning and now I can’t. Which throws off my once-a-week pill because I can’t take it on the proper morning and will have to readjust the schedule. Sometimes the little things annoy you more than the big ones.


At the risk of another bunch of mothers taking it personally (as happened last year around this time), I am going to make another comment about the task of a parent.

The task of a parent is
to teach her child to get along
without her. It always boils
down to just that.
The addition is this: you have to prepare your child for the world that’s here, not for some utopia you wish for. Unless you have the wherewithal to provide him with lifetime care, he’s going to have to learn to care for himself. That will include:

Okay, that’s it. I am not specifically targeting anyone who reads my posts. If you don’t like this, you may leave. If you have a method I haven’t heard of, I’ll be glad to listen. And don’t give me any comments about disabled children – mentally disabled or otherwise. That’s a story for another time.



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