Fifteen Years

Today is our fifteenth anniversary. Minutes ago I submitted my first article to Parenting Magazine. It’s a short essay about how I actually love my Mother In Law. Marrying him was so much more than just the two of us. Now there are four of us and anyone who wants to marry our kids will also get us, though that’s all very far off. I wish I was home but I’m still with the girls here in Arizona. They’re having the time of their lives playing volleyball, hanging out at …

Dinner With the Pope in Hell

I love Phoenix in the summertime. 110 degrees… what arthritis. I’m running up and down stairs here just for fun. Volleyball is disastrous in ways I really can’t begin to explain. The girls are playing horribly, their coach showed up two hours late after sleeping through an alarm clock, numerous phone calls and her assistant coach pounding on her door. She then proceeded to melt down when the girls didn’t play well. The owner of the club isn’t responding to parents anymore and to say I’m dissatisfied is a gross …

She Just Wasn’t My Dog but Jane is 100% My Daughter

Today was the first day of actual volleyball (don’t even ask me why I had to leave my house before dawn on Monday) so we scheduled a dinner on the hotel property. We thought driving the kids around Tempe might be a little bit much. When you walk from The Grand to Aunt Cheladas (could I make that name up?) there’s a golf course to cross and then a tiny bridge over a manmade canal. The girls were walking ahead of me and I was hanging back to have a …

Chaperoning is for Suckers

This morning I was up at 6 so that Jane and I could get to the local high school by 7.30. Buses pulled out at 8 and we arrived in Blythe midday and then Phoenix, Arizona mid afternoon. Blythe was predicably disgusting with men sitting on milk crates rolling joints and drinking from brown paper bags while we decided which fast food restaurant we’d poison ourselves at. We arrived at the hotel in the hottest part of the day, 119 degrees to be exact. We had four busloads of volleyball girls disembarking and not …

The Saddest Story Ever Told

My housekeeper and I have a strange relationship. I fire her, she refuses to leave. She misses a day for something totally legitimate like a doctor’s appointment or a school meeting and I feel abandoned and freak out that the house won’t be clean on schedule or ever again. We share each other’s joys and commiserate when times are tough. It’s an odd relationship, because of the balance of power (she seems to have all the power) it has to be. My housekeeper brings her own lunch. She neatly packages …