This is Why I Don't Scrapbook

My kids were not thrilled to be going back to school. They don't hate school. But we are not organized, nor are we morning people so getting to school on a normal day takes immense effort on everyone's part. Their dad leaves for work early so he asked me to snap a photo of the first day and I tried to oblige. I envy all the moms with smiling kids or funny faces and hand made signs indicating each child's grades. The brushed hair, the matching clothes, and the special Back-to-School breakfasts. We scarfed down some toast and cold cereal and as the kids were climbing into the van I said, "Wait! Your dad wants a picture!" My daughter (naturally) refused. I grabbed my phone quickly and managed to snap this before she climbed in and slammed the door. This girl will take silly selfies all day. She makes videos with her iPod Touch and wants her own YouTube channel. But when I want a decent snapshot, I get freakin' Linda Blair Hairy Eyeballs.

ID-10-T Problems

Someone tell me how I ended up an IT person. Not a paid IT person, mind you, but the person who has to troubleshoot the wi-fi, problems with the laptop and figure out who has hacked our Minecraft server?

Last week, our Charter internet wasn't working. Seemed like a complete outage and Charter was not very helpful about when they woudl be back online. I used my phone to check out Facebook and see what others in town were doing. A link to Reddit helped me find out what was going on. A Denial of Service Attack was going on with Charter's Domain Name Servers. The DNSs are the servers that sort out website addresses--if you type in web address, it has to be changed into a number address which leads you to the correct server where the information you want is hosted.

Since our wi-fi router was trying to go to Charters DNS address, we kept getting bupkis. But reprogramming the router to go to any number of other free DNSs out there resulted in a quick resolution of the problem.

Then the kids' Minecraft server got hacked. We pay Beastnode a small fee to host our server and provide an easy (ok, less difficult) control panel so our kids can play remotely with their friends. It's whitelisted, which means only the players we put on a list can access the server to play. However, we kept finding strange, rude, signs threatening players and then players would randomly get banned (only people with operator access can do this). I emailed support and they said someone was running a force op hack on the server--there are programs out there which allow you to force your way onto a private server and wreak havoc.

So I spend a few hours finding a solution--choosing a new server program that offered a command that would ban any person who tried to do run a force op hack. In the process of all these changes, I had to reconfigure the server settings and the whitelist got screwed up so I had to figure out how to fix that on the server console.

This is not in my nature. I am neither technologically inclined, nor meticulous about solving problems step by step. I like to push buttons until something happens. Which drives my husband bat-shit crazy. Software is not always perfect. The code doesn't always seem to run every program correctly all the time so you have to be prepared to try something different. My husband want to push the exact same buttons and get the exact same result every single time. In a perfect world, that would happen. But in a perfect world, I wouldn't have had to wipe asses for two years after I potty trained my last kid.

Strawberry Picking: Child Labor is Overrated

The strawberries are finally ripe here in Central Wisconsin and I finally decided I was going to get my ass out to a strawberry farm and pick me some berries. There is something almost religious about the treks to these self-pick places. I have no idea if they are a great price savings from the farmers' market. I paid $32 for four gallons, which is about $8 a gallon, or $4 a half gallon, which is $2 a quart--so the price is at least comparable to super market prices.

But the berries. Oh, my lord, the berries. They are bright red, ripe, sweet, and delicious. I told my kids (8 and 10) that we were going berry picking and they sort of agreed but looked at me like I was a little crazy when I suggested we leave at 8 a.m. on a Thursday morning. They had a friend spending the night but I figured an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt so I brought him along.

We left the house closer to 11 a.m.

The weather was beautiful. Not too hot or too sunny but warm and partly cloudy. We drove 20 minutes to a small patch set in idyllic farm country. The patch was well staffed, clean, mowed with well-tended fields and portable toilets with hand washing stations. A pleasant, barefoot guy in a wide-brimmed straw hat drove us up the hill in a golf cart and handed us our buckets.

I asked for four, because there were four of us. But honestly, I was trying to calculate how long I could keep my kids outside, working on their hands and knees before the first complaint was aired (10 minutes) and how many buckets we could fill up before they went all Cesar Chavez on me so I settled on four one gallon buckets.

The farmer pointed out a red flag and our row and told us to split up and work towards each other. He later explained to me this was so I could go back over the kids' picking in case they missed any berries. This turned out to be a good idea.

My son filled a bucket half-way. His friend, a sturdier little fellow managed to mostly fill his before my son's face started getting red (despite my attempt at slathering him with sunscreen before we left). My daughter, bless her, was a born field hand--maybe the act of berry picking appealed to our shared OCD tendencies. She and I filled my bucket and hers and then topped off the boys' buckets in about 40 minutes total.

I really thought I'd get more work out of them. Small hands, young backs and knees and they failed me, utterly. They were hot, itchy with mosquito bites and probably hungry for lunch. Granted we're not outdoorsy folks, my son especially. But they're old enough to tell a ripe berry from unripe and to avoid the mushy ones. They're just lacking in stamina.

I could have probably picked some more before we left but since I don't can, and I need to figure out what to do with these besides eating them right out of the flats and making strawberry shortcake. The clock is ticking on the gallons of berries in my fridge. Don't they look beautiful?

In Which I Almost Starred in a Political Ad for Wisconsin's Gubernatorial Campaign

I am a political junkie. Like Nate Silver Fan Girl political junkie and I pull no punches about my lefty-liberal leanings, either.

I am no fan of Wisconsin's current Gubernatorial Douchebag, Scott Walker. I have thrown my support behind Mary Burke, for a number of philosophical reasons. Mostly because of Walker's War on Education, his attacks on public unions (especially educators) and the massive cuts he has made to state education. I believe his cuts have adversely affected my kids' school, the district, and the state of Wisconsin.

My friends are mostly liberal lefties as well--so it really wasn't a surprise to me to get a text from a friend asking if I would talk to someone from the Burke campaign about education. I always ready to share my opinions so I had a chat with someone on the phone and agreed to let some guys from the campaign come and scout me, my kids, and our home for a possible commercial.

Two nice, geeky looking guys showed up--they seemed like characters from The West Wing--causally dressed but polite, erudite and sympathetic. We talked around our kitchen table for an hour, while the kids drew pictures and piped up with their precocious opinions on politics. (I have NO idea where they get it.)

Then they walked around the house and took some cell phone photos, thanked us for our time, and our story, and said they would be in touch. I even got a request for a photo selfie--for a potential make-up artist in case they decided to use me, I'd definitely need the help of a professional.

As it turned out, the younger of the two, Gabe, sent me a text and left me a voicemail the next day saying they wouldn't be down to Stevens Point and therefore, couldn't use us.

I'm pretty sure they can find someone more telegenic and more eloquent to express my feelings towards this state administration's stance on public education. At least I hope they do. Burke should be attacking Walker on this. His cuts were brutal and they were made worse by a cap he put on property taxes so that individual districts couldn't make up for budget shortfalls by raising local property taxes.

I have a straightforward philosophy on pubic education: It is the first level playing field our kids encounter and it is the most important one. Education is the magic bullet for EVERY social ill; crime, poverty, abuse all go down as education increases. Why would you not want that fully funded? Why would you disrespect the system that educates our youth and the people that do it?

I honestly believe that there is a war on intellectualism in this county. And that somehow, people see educated individuals as elitist snobs, or rich idiots. But education is the bootstraps that conservatives have such a hard on for. If you want someone to pull themselves out of poverty, THEY HAVE TO GET A GOOD EDUCATION. By denying everyone a FREE, quality education, they are undercutting their own moral code that people can help themselves out of poverty.

Edited because this article came out after I published.

Wisconsin Second Only to Alabama in Cuts to Education Funding.

Save Me from Thoughtful Children

While I was getting my hair colored, my daughter thoughtfully reorganized my iPhone apps.

Now I can't find shit.

http://giphy.com/gifs/11HuVIMHWQ0cJG

Curriculum with Costumes

With six days left in the school year, my daughter's second grade class got a chance to dress up like "pioneers" for school.

I've known about this event for two weeks but let's face it--I was counting on my daughter forgetting about it or just wearing a skirt and peasant top and being satisfied.

Besides, I had roller derby practice the night before and we've been trying to paint her bedroom for the last week. This doesn't leave much time for looking for pioneer costumes on Pinterest.

But fueled by last minute fear she would feel like a failure if I didn't dress it up a bit, I did what I always do: Kick Ass Procrastinated Project.

With not a single cup of coffee (NO TIME!) and less than an hour before school, I folded and sewed two yards of scrap fabric into a passable bonnet and tied the rest around her, apron-wise, with a scrap tie.

I'm not ashamed of the results, even if Liv does not look overly thrilled. Perhaps she is getting into character?

I could have just sent her to school inher brother's   Oregon Trail T-Shirt that says, "You have died of dysentery."

The Talk

My 10 year old son gets "The Talk" in school tomorrow. The class on Human Growth and Development starts with covering puberty (I HATE that word for some reason) and hygiene.

A few months ago, I recall my son saying something to the effect of "Puberty? Whew...I hope I don't catch THAT."

Oy.



I'm fairly sure it's come a long way since I saw this Disney animated gem as a fourth grade girl in 1980. I can certainly say with some pride that my kids are much more aware of anatomy, sex, and human development than I was at the same age. I try very hard to stay cool and matter-of-fact when discussing the topic or answering questions.

At least I know I won't be nervously perched on the side of the bathtub with a psychotic smile as my daughter sits on the toilet in shock saying, "I know this is exciting! Do you have any questions?" Because that was the ONLY single time my mother and I EVER discussed puberty or sex. At all.

This memory makes me nauseated and sweaty. I have sworn on a stack of Tampax boxes that my children will not go into this stage of life unprepared or handicapped with a nervously twee mother who can't say the word "penis" or "vagina" in front of her kids. They will be nervous or who knows--maybe the combination of a modern curriculum with professional, honest delivery will get them through. I just want them to be comfortable asking the questions before they decide their parents are lumpy, old creatures without a sex drive or any knowledge.

Is it too much to ask that I raise two relatively well adjusted, kind, honest, moral kids without a bunch of sexual hangups or emotional scars?

It's not, right?