This Blogger Chooses To Humiliate Herself In The Name Of Charity

DSC_1320 Do you have a stack of yearbooks lying around the house at all? Mine were stashed in a chest in our room and going through them for this entry was one of the first times they’ve been opened since I graduated in 1993. Flipping through them was so much fun, and I even hated large chunks of high school. Still – great memories came flooding back, with the pictures and the words. This stack brought me many smiles tonight.

Even if you don’t have a stack of yearbooks, chances are the yearbooks were there for you to buy in high school. Maybe you opted not to buy them, maybe you lost them. Maybe you bought them and then burnt them in a ceremonial fire to symbolize your hatred for the years they represented. (What? You didn’t at least think about it?) Either way, chances were that there were yearbooks somewhere to be had. Right?

But what if they weren’t? What if there were no yearbooks for your to buy and then lose? Did you know some high schools can’t afford yearbooks? Some kids leave those four years with little-to-nothing to remember them by. While looking for projects to support for the Donor’s Choose Blogger’s Challenge – I found just one of those schools.

When my students see yearbooks from other, more affluent schools they get a little saddened. They don’t quite understand why our school doesn’t feel it necessary to honor the students by having a yearbook…My students need a good SLR digital camera to take photographs to produce a yearbook for the first time in over 10 years!

One digital camera. That’s all they’re asking for. One digital camera for an entire high school here in my home state of Alabama. With that, they’ll have their own yearbook. And we can help them get that. Imagine this…you donate five dollars to help this school get a yearbook. In 15 years, one of those students will sit down to look at that yearbook like I did last night. And 15 years from now, your five dollars lives again. And it will surely live again years after that. Please – visit my donor page and help give these students what I took for granted. What we all probably took for granted. Please?

To reward you, I have several pictures of myself from my own yearbooks to share with you. Shouldn’t every student be able to post an embarrassing entry like this 15 years after they graduate? I think so. Or, if not post a blog entry, every student should at least be able to have these books hidden in a drawer somewhere for their kids to find and laugh at years down the road.

Freshman year. Illegal quantities of hairspray used in this photo.

What? I don’t look like an athlete?

Powderpuff Football. LOVED THAT.

Junior Year. Lighter on the hairspray.

Look! I was a good Catholic once!

Most Dependable. Of course.

Senior Year and An Assortment of Bizarre Information I Don’t Remember

Now, wasn’t that fun? I would not have been able to humiliate myself with such fantastic photos from my high school career if it weren’t for my yearbook. I’m fairly certain you could do a similar entry, unless you were one of those rare timeless good-looking people. In which case, you need to go away before I beat you.

Help these kids get their yearbooks, please? Visit my donor page and help out these kids in my home state. Five dollars. That’s all it takes. And these kids could have their high school fashion choices documented for eternity.

Edited to add: I am going to try to add more challenges to my page throughout the week. I don’t have the readership of some of the other participants so I just chose one project. It has since occurred to me that the point of “Donor’s Choose” is to give you all a choice, so even if there’s just a few of you who donate, you should still have a choice. Duh. I’ll work on that.

Teenagers will be Teenagers


Sometimes I realize that I may not be completely honest in my depiction of my oldest child. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the guy is completely awesome in every way. But – I neglect to tell the typical stories that parents of teenagers have – so sometimes it seems like he’s just too perfect. I don’t tell those stories because I have too much respect for him and don’t want him to one day ask me to take this site down. And then I’d have to choose between my blog and my child. And that’s not a good place to be.

(Kidding! Child would totally win! I swear! Child does chores, blog does not. Easy call.)

But this week? My son did such a stereotypical teenage thing, I just have to share it.

I wake him and his siblings up at the same time. 5:45am. I wake him up and then I get his brother and sister ready for school and feed them breakfast while he grumpily drags himself to the shower and back to his room to get dressed. I usually don’t glimpse him until he goes to grab breakfast five minutes before we walk out the door. And sometimes? He’s dragging slow enough that I don’t even see him then, I just yell, “We’re leaving!” as I walk out the door and he has to dart out of his bedroom, grab something To Go for breakfast, and meet me at the van. Some days that To Go breakfast is a piece of bread, which is where his motivation lies to get ready on time. A REAL BREAKFAST.

The other morning I was about to yell, “We’re leaving!” when I realized the door to his bedroom was open and HE WAS STILL IN BED. He didn’t actually wake up when I came into his room and turned on the lights at 5:45am. He slept right through it. And here we were, ready to go, and he was still asleep. STILL ASLEEP.

I hustled him out of bed by screaming about how he was, “going to make me late! Get up! Get up!” and just left the house to take the kids to school. I found someone to come get him later that morning so I didn’t have to be late, but not before giving him a 15-minute lecture about how that could NEVER happen again. NEVER EVER EVER.

Funny thing? I think I was most disappointed in the cliche. I mean, sleeping late? That’s so typical. I expect more creative disobedience from my firstborn. There’d better be spray paint involved with the next outburst of teenagedom, that’s all I’m saying.

(Kidding! Again! Please don’t spray paint anything, LilZ!)

It’s All About The Blog Fodder


LilZ and I saw this at the grocery store the other day and we spent our time in line discussing the bizarreness of such a cover story. I mean, “The secrets she tells her dolls”? REALLY? What the hell? My favorite was jaclarke21’s comment on flickr that said, “I wonder how much they had to pay the dolls to rat her out?” SERIOUSLY.

As I took the picture with my cell phone, the lady behind me was just looking at me very oddly. You could tell she had no idea why I would be taking a picture of a magazine. I mean, surely she could appreciate how bizarre the cover was, but why document it? From a non-blogger perspective it does seem like and odd thing to do. But me? I’m all, “This is going to go on my blog.”

Have you ever found yourself in that situation? Taking a picture of something weird for your blog? There’s a new addition to our part of town. It’s a guy wearing one of those neon yellow sandwich board signs that says something like, “Repent or BURN.” It angers me greatly and I’m dying to take a picture of him to show you guys. I’m not sure if I can find a good situation to do it though, since he’s at a very busy intersection. (It’s important to have high traffic if you’re preaching eternal damnation, you know.) But every time I see him I think two things: 1) If he doesn’t find somewhere else to stand soon I’m going to stand next to him with a sign that says “Smile! I Love You!” and 2) I need to take a picture of that guy for my blog.

Although, I’m now thinking if I do #1? Then #2 will be much more of a priority. Because a picture of me wearing a sign that says, “Smile! I love you!” next to the guy wearing a sign that says, “Repent or Burn”? THAT would make a good blog entry.

Parenting Highs


These are photos of my kids from the culture parade their school had on Friday. AndyZ is wearing a hat made of the American flag and the German flag as that is his predominate lineage. I think. It’s the predominate lineage of MrZ and there’s some German in me somewhere – so I made the call to use German when asked his heritage.

NikkiZ’s class was in charge of Ireland, but they’ve been without a teacher for almost two weeks so their “costumes” weren’t that detailed. Some of the classes had shirts and hats and even props to carry in the parade. It was all very cute. Of course, that didn’t keep me and another Mom from snarking a little. Because that’s what some of us do when we see our kids in funny hats. We just couldn’t help ourselves. I’d like to think my Dad did the same when I participated in such events.

Although – for the record? He most assuredly didn’t. I’m just pretending he did so I can feel less guilty about making fun of my own children.


Because, seriously…how can you not say something snarky about this situation? Isn’t that in the parenting handbook somewhere? That mocking your child is allowed in extreme situations? If it’s not – then I’m rewriting the manual to include that law. And I’ll also add that it’s okay to eat their Halloween candy when they’re not looking. We have to teach them to protect their belongings somehow, right?