Category: Twelve Days of Summer
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Twelve Moments of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY TWELVE
On the twelfth day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: twelve plushies thrumming —————— We can trace it through the generations: the impulse towards creative expression. Paco’s paternal grandmother is an artist, a painter. Paco’s paternal grandfather is an architect, a photographer. Paco’s maternal grandmother is a hand quilter, a stitcher. …
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY ELEVEN
On the eleventh day of summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: eleven piped positives ———————————– From the start, Allegra was crazy about her little brother. Excited from her soon-to-be-shorn scalp* right down to her slow-healing umbilical hernia, she gloried in having a buddy for life. For “Brudder,” she had endless hugs, tickles, adventures, and…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY TEN
On the tenth day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: ten meringues a’melting ——————– When he was born, he was a big baby, fully 50% larger than his sister had been. That made sense: I’d carried him 41 days longer than I’d carried her. He’d had bonus snack time inside the sac. In the…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY NINE
On the ninth day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: nine sheep a’leaping —————————————– The past couple of years, I’ve been the faculty advisor for our campus’ chapter of Phi Theta Kappa, which is the honor society for two-year colleges. It’s been a fascinating experience–something that’s foreign to my ways of functioning in the…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY EIGHT
On the eighth day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: eight dropped balls a’rolling ————————– My summer teaching takes place online, allowing me the mercy of not driving to campus but, rather, typing at my students from a variety of places within my house. Always, always, I’m a better teacher when I’m not wearing…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY SEVEN
On the seventh day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: seven(teen) birdies a-falling ——————————————————————————- If I were a more protective mother, I might consider having tracking devices implanted in my children. Nothing ostentatious–just a tasteful computer chip inserted into the scalp behind the ear, a quick out-patient procedure with a “good job not screaming or…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY SIX
On the sixth day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: respite from my complaining —————————————— It’s a crappy irony, this business of having “been on a journey” with my body and spending four decades figuring out a kind of acceptance, and then, once I get to a point of feeling like I can lift…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY FIVE
On the fifth day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: five bike bell dings ———– Byron stood in the lobby of the YMCA, trying to get members to sign up as volunteers for a community-outreach event. He does such things frequently. I am certain his noble works compensate for my tendency to stay home,…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY FOUR
On the fourth day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: four flaming worksheets containing words ————————— I will not bitch about teachers. Governors and legislators like to rationalize budget cutting by asserting that teachers have it easy. I will bitch about governors and legislators. My rant to them begins with this: “Howzabout you become a…
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Twelve Days of Summer with My Twelve-Year-Old: DAY THREE
On the third day of Summer(mas), my middle schooler gave to me: three hikes through glens ————— We tried. By age four, we had Paco gliding on skis, running kids’ races, trailing the herd on a soccer team. We laid the groundwork for a life wherein his body moved. Then he reached an age where he could…