I have been scarce on the blog lately.

A lot has been going on with the people around me, some of it good, some of it not so good. I have been feeling like a rock in the middle of a moving stream, watching the water rush past in all directions, but standing still and firm. Some days it feels like my rock steadiness makes a difference — like I shouldn’t move or the water might get too strong and drown something or someone downstream. Other days it feels like the water doesn’t even know I’m there, and everything would keep flowing just the same if someone came along and moved me out of the way.

So basically I’ve been busy being a rock, and rocks don’t often feel like writing.

[Now I'm thinking of the children's book "Sylvester and the Magic Pebble," by William Steig. If you're not familiar, it's the story of a little boy who discovers a magic pebble that makes wishes come true. He finds himself confronted by a dangerous situation (a lion in the woods) while holding the pebble, and subconsciously wishes he was a rock so that he couldn't be harmed. Poof - he's a rock. And rocks can't hold pebbles and make wishes, so he's stuck. 

When our daughter was about 14 months old, we got a free copy of that book in a box of Cheerios. (And, yes - I was such a newbie neurotic mom at that point that I was cutting the Cheerios in half before giving them to her. The Mr. would NEVER let a reference to Cheerios from that phase of our lives pass without commenting on that particular neurosis.) Anyway, I used to flip through the book with our daughter, even though the story was far too advanced to read to a child of that age. Instead, we would look at the pictures, and I would give a very brief explanation as to what was happening on each page.

Once Sylvester becomes a rock, his parents are heartbroken and they send all the villagers out to look for him. There is a picture of everyone (including animals) looking for him in the woods. Whenever we would look at that page, she would say, "Vester! Where ahhh you?" in the sweetest little sing songy voice. I still love that book, and we still have the free copy from Cheerios.

When our son was in Kindergarten, his teacher read the book to the class. Then, she had them complete a worksheet that said, "If I had a magic pebble I would wish for......" Our son completed his to say, "....a baby brother and a baby sister so I could play with them."

Thankfully, he never did come into possession of a magic pebble.] 

So lots of what’s been occupying my mind lately is really someone else’s story, of which I am a part – but not the main character. Blogging doesn’t always feel right in those situations, as you might imagine.

The regular stuff is going on as usual, of course. A little pre-spring sprucing of the joint — carpets cleaned, fresh pillows and cushions in the family room, a new quilt for the guest room. A bit of writing for a paid gig that comes up every so often. A lot of shuttling kids around to various sports and activities. A touch of volunteering at school and in the community. (I am actively NOT volunteering for a drop-off event at school on Friday night so that the Mr. and I can get a date night out of it. I am trying to avoid contact with so many different people and e-mails to avoid caving in on this one. Now that I found a new Mexican restaurant AND TEQUILA BAR to try instead, it’s feeling easier to stick with my original answer of NO THANK YOU.)

I’ve also been running a lot and doing a better job tracking what I eat. The holiday, January birthday double punch took a little toll on the waistline, as it always does. Have no fear, I’m getting my butt in gear.

I ended up loving the Barbara Kingsolver book, “Flight Behavior,” though it took me awhile to get into it. The beginning starts off with a bit of a religious tilt, which didn’t grab me. Plus, I was very mired in the rock business from above at that point, so my head wasn’t really in the game. But of course, I worked my magic on the library lease books and managed to get 2 consecutive copies of the book to read it all for freeeeeee. And once I got into it, I loved all the commentary on politics, religion, climate change, education, etc. I definitely recommend it. Now I am onto “Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk,” by Ben Fountain. I’m intrigued, but anxiously awaiting some more action in the plot. It’s a National Book Award finalist and so far (1/3 of the way in) a very good character study — but I’m hoping to get a little more hooked by the story soon.

On that note, I’m off to read some more. Leave a comment to say hi, or tell me what you’d wish for with a magic pebble. 

Yesterday was quite a day. It started with an outing with some friends to visit a local establishment for brunch. At this brunch, I imbibed two bloody marys. The first one was really good. So good that it convinced me to get a second, but in retrospect – the first one was enough. Eh, you only live once.

There was a drag queen performance during our meal. It was a HOOT I tell you. Lots of fun, lots of hysterical photos, lots of belly laughing at our table. You can see how the atmosphere was conducive to ordering a second drink. It seemed like just the thing to do in the moment.

It wasn’t until I was dropped off on the corner of our street with 3 other moms, as our designated minivan driver rolled away, that I started to second guess myself. As I approached the front door, I saw the dog anxiously awaiting my arrival. Behind him was our son, wrapped in a fleece blanket. Next in line was the Mr., wielding a wooden spoon from tending the soup pot on the stove. Our daughter appeared last, holding a pencil from working on her class valentines. And what’s with the sun shining so damn brightly??

I am not a good day drinker. This whole scene, which is a totally normal Sunday afternoon scene, threw me for a loop. I coped by hiding in a corner of the kitchen and shoving cell phone photos of drag queens under the Mr.’s nose as he was chopping chicken at the counter.

Then, I decided to go upstairs and lie down for awhile….maybe catch a nap. 

HA! I’m not a napper. No go.

I was back downstairs within 15 minutes, this time to brew a cup of coffee. I got the idea from having watched “Flight,” with Denzel Washington the night before. I mean, sure – he drank for days on end and sobered up with cocaine (both snorted and smoked in a “cocoa puff” prepared by John Goodman) – but the concept of balancing out the downers with an upper was the same. (Humor me….I’m trying to sound like a bad ass.)

Anyway, the coffee worked and I was almost good as new. Good thing, because it was almost time to head out to the next performance of the day.

Instead of drag queens, this one featured our daughter and 4 other kids (all slightly older than her 11 years) in a rock band performance. She is the lead singer of this rockin’ band put together by her piano instructor. They did a 4 song set last night, and holy cow – she was fantastic! Her dad and I were so proud of her for getting up there and doing it, and then blowing everyone away with her talent. In fact, I think her talent created some sort of magical spell over her dad….he even indulged her in getting to school late after waking up with a post-gig headache. 

Final performance(s) of the night were thanks to the Grammy telecast, which I plopped my butt on the couch for once dinner was over and lunches were packed for school. I was reading a lot of commentary over Facebook, Twitter, and a live blog from my favorite NPR podcast. As I read all of this, I determined that these musical experts were mostly irritated and disgusted by how mainstream the awards and performances were. Which promptly led me to the conclusion that I am an unapologetic cookie cutter consumer of mainstream music. I enjoyed the performances and took no issue with the awards given. Of course, I’m not a fan of country music – so I could have done without that one performance (who was that? The Band Perry or something like that?). Carrie Underwood was ok, because I was distracted by her fancy projector like dress with butterflies. And then at the end….that Frank Ocean guy that all the experts were touting. What the hell? He sang a song called “Forrest Gump,” and there was actual footage of the running scenes from Forrest Gump playing behind him, and he had a weird headband, and it looked like his yellow pants covered legs were running instead of standing behind a piano, and I just. didn’t. get. it.

Must be too avant garde for a consumer like me.

So Performance Sunday was fun. And now it is Mundane Monday. You take the good with the bad.

No more USPS snail mail on Saturdays?!? YIIPPPPEEEEEEEEEE! That’s one day less of clutter on the counters! I despise mail and no matter what systems I put in place, the mail seems to own me. So, I’ll take this small weekend victory in the ongoing war against clutter and be pleased. Mail Clutter 5 vs. Turningreen 2.

Yesterday was a day of acquisitions. Supplies for bake sale, foam board for a school project, book for a report, replacement cushions for chairs in the house. But the cushions have to be returned, and some of the baking supplies I bought turned out to be “made in a facility with peanuts and tree nuts” and a whole host of other allergens, making them unusable in our house. I hate when they label things with possible contamination by every single allergen. Clearly that’s their way of covering their asses, but what mom with a food allergic kid is going to just take that chance despite the labeling? Not this one, that’s for sure. 

Did you read the part where I said bake sale? Ho hum. I had no idea that our son’s foray into school politics would demand so many home baked goods. Last time, he baked brownies and then slathered them with gooey frosting and heavy sprinkles. They were impossible to wrap and not that attractive, either. This time, I threw some money and laziness at the problem. I bought a gigantic box of individually wrapped Rice Krispy Treats and popsicle sticks. The kids unwrapped the treats and speared them with sticks. We dipped them in some melted white candy coating and then in some entirely nut-free sprinkles, which were not quite as cute as the not-entirely-nut-free Valentine sprinkles I had acquired yesterday. But they were easy and they look festive and they are all wrapped and ready to go and the bake sale isn’t even until tomorrow. BOO-YA. Nutty Sprinkles 1 vs. Turningreen 1,000. (I’m taking some liberties here and giving extra credit for early completion.)

Have you seen that series of Target ads for their “Every Day Collection?” The ads feature women dressed in form fitting white clothing who are accomplishing basic household tasks. One of the ads shows a woman walking on a catwalk in a slinky white dress, as colorful cake mixes explode around her and she cracks an egg in her hands. According to Salon.com, these ads are designed to spotlight Target’s grocery aisles while playing on their reputation for fashion. The voice over for that ad is, “Dominate that PTA Bake Sale.” Eh, when I saw it I found the ad to be absurd. I mean, sure, things explode and egg cracking gets messy when there are kids involved. But who in their right mind would wear a white dress to bake with kids? Haha. I kid, but seriously – I find these ads to be less fashion forward and more feminist backward and insulting. And it takes a lot to get me to say anything negative about Target, because I love me some Target. Target 0 vs. Turningreen 1.

Apparently, I’m in a fighting mood. The laundry had better be afraid. Verrrry afraid.