Look at My Kid

No, really. Look at her. Both of my kids are hypermobile. Some people call it double jointed. It’s a good thing to have for sports, Jane can pull her arm back a little further than most kids so she gets more momentum when she’s hitting the ball. Alexander can do wacky stuff with his elbows when he’s throwing a baseball and then there are the parlor tricks when they both just start wrapping their bodies into odd shapes solely to creep me out. Lucky me. Yesterday I pulled out the …

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 …

It’s 10pm. Where is Your Child’s Cell Phone?

  In an effort to make my teenage daughter hate me (because really, what other motive could I have?). I gave Jane two options regarding her cell phone at night. Option 1: She can leave her cell phone plugged in downstairs Option 2: I can add back parental controls and after 10pm she will only be able to call or text me, her grandparents and 9-1-1. There is no option 3. We had tears and threats. I wasn’t spoken to for two solid hours. If you’ve ever met Jane you’d …