Thirteen Things On My Desk 1. My 3rd cup of coffee. In the great mug that Kristin gave me that says “Smart Women Thirst for Knowledge” 2. Three phones. Count them three! The business line portable. The home line wired and the homeline portable. 3. An electric pencil sharpener. I just plugged it back in since school started. 4. Post-its. In a terrific yellow-gold color. 5. A coaster that says “Biscuits Champagne Lefevre-Utile. The coffee cup is not sitting on it. 6. Rosh Hashanah cards to send out. Maybe this year I really will. 7. The brochure from The Pearl Day Spa listing all the services and classes. I’m considering taking the Cardio Striptease class. Anyone want to join me? Someone 44 or older please. I can’t bear to be the oldest one there. 8. Two tiny little spiral seashells that Reed found for me at the beach. 9. A peace sign made from those little plastic beads that you iron together. Like this. 10. An extra pair of reading glasses that my mom bought at the flea market in Florida. 11. My hole puncher. The one I’ve had for as long as I can remember. College maybe? 12. All five pens from my new Gel Pen set that I got free from Staples. Blue, red, green, black and purple. I love them. 13. The Scholastic Book Club order form. The first this year. Davis wants The Fire Within and Icefire by Chris D’Lacey and the new Ripley’s Believe it or Not book.

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I’m too tired to fight. Or talk. Or even type. (Horrors.)

All day clients, friends, family needed something from me. I tried. I really did. I have a list for the wee hours of the morning with 4 things left on it to do to keep up. Other than those, I think I squeaked by. Sorry if I didn’t give you enough attention. Or answer your question in my usual thorough manner. Tomorrow is another day.

Before you start thinking I was neurotic about the middle school backpack or that it was like the lunchbox episode, think again. This is totally different. And the only reason I am telling you this is to discuss economics. Not to let you know that I have spent more time at Staples than Eric, the manager of store #1051. Let me start at the beginning.

When my son told me that he’d like a new backpack for middle school, I said no problem. His old one lasted several years and really is worn to shreds. And, because I know how it is in middle school, I was even willing to buy him a really nice one. In fact, the one he choose with all the bells and whistles was $59.99. Since I’d seen ones like it in L.L. Bean for twice the price, I bit.

I don’t know if you know, but at Staples, if you return an empty printer cartridge, they give you a coupon for $3.00. And you can use 3 coupons with a purchase. I had returned a boat-load of cartridges so have a virtually unlimited supply of those $3.00 coupons. So I got $9.00 off the backpack.

Well Orientation Day came around. Seems that the lockers can only hold a backpack that is 10.5″ wide by 9″ deep and the one I bought was quite a bit wider. Live and learn. I went back, alone this time. I found one the same brand, with one strap, lots of groovy pockets. Very nice. $39.99. I returned the first one, bought the second. I used my coupons. $9.00 off.

Come to realize that the three-ring binder that we’d bought previously didn’t fit in the new backpack. Could we live with it? No, not really. Okay. Here we go.

So we went back to Staples and together picked one that measured correctly to fit in the locker and that would hold the binder. I returned the second one, bought the third one and used my $9.00 worth of coupons.

Now before I show you the math, I must say I bought extra things each time. They got me with all the displays and impulse buys. So it’s not as bad as it seems. But still, I think I need to send a check to that manager of #1015.

backpack 1 $59.99
- discount $9.00
total $50.99

backpack 2 $39.99
- discount $9.00
coupons from backpack 1 $9.00
total $21.99

backpack 3 $9.99
- discount $9.00
coupons from backpack 1 $9.00
coupons from backpack 2 $9.00
total $(17.01)

So Staples paid me $17.01 to take the fricking backpack and never darken their doors again. But they can’t possibly be as sick of me as I am of them!

Seriously, they were great. I didn’t realize that the coupons kept accruing. But I know I spent at least that much on gas….

Fall Baseball Season has officially begun. This man, behind the chain link fence looking a little shady, is my son’s coach. He is quite the coach.

This guy coaches, I don’t know, about 15 teams a season. Okay, maybe a couple less. But a lot. Trust me. You’d think he’d be spread too thin between all his kids and all their teams.

But he’s the best coach my kid’s ever had. My kid, who started out shaking in his cleats every time he came to bat. And who now stands there boldly. I even saw my little guy show some other kid how to hold the bat yesterday. He’s grown. Big time. This coach has given him confidence and taught him what being on a team means.

Honestly, I don’t like baseball all that much. I would bring a book to games and practices if it wouldn’t make me look like a bad mother. (It would.)

But Reed loves to play. And he’s learning a lot more than how to hit and throw.

I found a huge stack of photos in my 11 year old’s desk yesterday. We were cleaning it out in preparation for Middle School. The snapshots were almost all of him. Some of his little brothers, but mostly him. And in every single one, he was smiling. He was, and is, a really happy and easy going kid.

Davis was about 1 year old in the photo above. I had taken him to New York City to see my sister-in-law and to hang out. He loved it there. Well, he loved it everywhere. You can see him holding his “lovey” White Bear.

He took White Bear everywhere he went. He slept with it, ate with it, played with it, even took it in his backpack when he started preschool.

Unbeknownst to him, there were two of them. Two identical bears. That way, when one got dirty, the other one was available. That way, there would never be a time he would have to do without his friend. (This was a valuable tip I learned from a great friend with kids older than I had. Always great to have one of those…) But I digress.

Davis didn’t know there were two White Bears. We worked hard to keep it a secret. Otherwise, we feared, he’d want both all the time and we’d be sans a backup.

He loved this bear so much that the fabric started to wear. On both. We started to worry that we’d need a third. And in fact, we did buy a third, but no kid is dim enough to confuse a pristine new bear with a well-loved one. So it’s brand new in my memory box as I write.

The fabric wore so much that I bought premie onsies for the bears. And hoped that would save them from totally disintegrating. But still, the bears wore out. Well, not out, but surely wore. Here they are today.

Of course, Davis knows there are two. (Three, actually) He figured it out before we told him, but didn’t tell us so we wouldn’t be disappointed. He never did seem to mind.

As he moves into the next phase of his life – Middle School – I wonder what will be the constant. What will be his White Bear? I hope it’s the openness that we encourage here at home and the indescribable amount of love we have for him.

He seems fine. He’s not outwardly concerned at all.

Now me? That’s another story.

How can it be Friday? I haven’t come close to finishing what I intended to finish this week. Company will be here for dinner in, well about 15 minutes ago. I don’t know if the boys’ school clothes fit from last year. I have server issues to work out for our company website. I have a huge project with a huge deadline next week. (Fortunately, I have some great people working with me on that one!) I am behind on laundry from being away. The house is a bit sandy. At least it’s nice to have that “still at the beach” feeling.

But it is Friday. And I’ve finally sat down. The kids are playing until our cousins get here for dinner. Andrew poured me a nice glass of Solanera. And I’m trying to put the week behind me.

In a little while, we’ll light the candles and do the Motzi. And eat the homemade challah. And the weekend will begin.

Whether I’m finished with the week or not.

A young woman I admire in real life was featured today on DC Blogs. Her blog, Sugar, Spice and Sometimes Nice is a smooth read – her voice is so easy to hear… Check out Starbuck’s High Maintenance.

When I was little, my family went to Ocean City, MD every summer. We stayed right on the boardwalk in a motel. It had 2 double beds (where did my brother sleep?) and a sliding glass patio-like door that opened to the beach. There were chairs on the patio – the kind with plastic lacing that you could fall through if you stood on them. I thought it was terribly fancy. I don’t know that it was. I do know that the places that look like that now are real shit-holes. But it was a long time ago and it was probably nice.

I remember going to Phillips for dinner. Now that was fancy. And it was a long time before they opened about a jillion locations. Other highlights were salt water taffy from Candy Kitchen and ice cream and funnel cakes and…well you get the picture. Food has always been an important part of fun for my family.

But the pièce de résistance was Frontiertown. At Frontiertown, there was a Main Street shoot out. There were can-can girls in the saloon and the bad guy would burst in aninterruptpt the show. A fight would ensue. Thsheriffif and deputy would save the day. And the girls would be free to show their butts and their legs once again. Whew. Peace is restored.

But this is not a peaceful place. We took the train and robbers jumped onboard to rob the passengers and steal the gold that we were transporting. (I really was scared, but it is a bit embarrassing to admit.) We rode the stage coach and there was a fire on the path. We walked through the Indian Village and saw the skins and the crafts. We even found a cool old shack that was so crooked and confusing that we could barely make our way through it.

It was an exhausting anexhilaratingng day. Did I mention that we all got deputy badges? The metal kind that clip on by folding down the tab. Oh, and lots of the kids there had cap guns. See those often these days? I thought not. But you remember how good they smelled, don’t you?

I went back there with my guys this week. Nothing had changed.

It was like going home.

So we took the kids out for dinner after a tiring, exhilirating wonderful day at the beach. To The Hacienda. What a huge disappointment. We’ve never spent so much for so little. I, personally enjoyed the pitcher of margaritas, but Andrew thought they were weak. I guess all the tequila ended up in my glass. Lucky for me. Or for him, depending on your point of view. Now we’re co-blogging back in our kitchy, but oh so spacious condo. Drinking SOL and listening to the boys watching the first season of Survivor in the other room. We’d be there too, but who needs to see Richard Hatch’s butt a second time around? But I digress.

The beach and the waves. It was awesome watching the boys find their bravery in the waves today. They were awesome. And yes, Mom, they were careful. (yeah right.) They body surfed every wave in. You would not believe the amount of sand they retained. We found sand in every nook and cranny. And then some. There is even some sand rash issue that we would be better off not discussing here. (But I should tell you that sand friction can make some little body parts swell a bit. And hence, make some little boys freak out.)

Andrew says that it’s a good thing that the fashion police were not out today. Otherwise there would be a flurry of tickets issued. Shall we begin with the 40-something “blonde” in the pale blue see-through bikini (hence the quotation marks) whose breasts were a bit out of proportion. We suspect surgery. (Not a tough call)

Where is a good strong wireless network when you need one? I had to park in several lots before getting a good connection. In fact, I didn’t get a great one until I paid the $2.95 at McDonald’s (along with the $1.59 for the Diet Coke – YIKES no Pepsi). Admittedly, it was a great and powerful oz. I mean network.

Andrew says when did American youth get so lazy that they were willing to forgo a modest salary and a summer at the beach for what? Today, as you may have noticed, the working class at the beach is from Eastern Europe. Not that he begrudges a working person who is willing to travel over 6,000 miles to better themselves, but he says when he was a kid (a long, long time ago) he’d have given a lot to have been able to work at the beach and meet hot chicks. Wendy chiming in here….It’s not as if these beautiful Russian girls were all faring so well. We saw a few simply reducing themselves to barely more than posessions with overbearing Russian, American, and Latino men. We were horrified. If these girls’ mothers knew what they were doing here, they’d be sick. Truly sick. Maybe these mothers aren’t as overprotective as American mothers, but I can’t believe they’d condone this behavior. These girls are not doing themselves any favors.

Anyway, back to our lovely trip to the beach. Fortunately, the boys have become old enough and wise enough to understand the double entendres of beach names to “get” the jokes. Such as “BIG PECKERS” or “MOTHER CLUCKERS” or “BIG JOHNSON” but I don’t think they get “HOOTERS” yet. Not sure actually. I’m so pleased to see them grow up and develop additional insight into fratboy mentality. Yikes.

Here’s the funny part of this post. I am typing (Wendy here) and Andrew is hoping there. Hoping that I’ll stop typing and start paying attention to him instead. Tough call, as I haven’t posted in days. PLUS the fact that I’m reading this great book about a writer and can’t stop thinking about writing. So sorry Andrew. You are SOL and I don’t mean the beer.

Summer is almost over. Goodbye to the carefree days. And to swimming until the boys are blue and wrinkly. Goodbye to the luscious tomatoes and sweet, sweet corn.

I’m not ready to say farewell. I am rebelling. I’m packing the car and we’re going to the beach for one last hurrah.

Don’t tell me it’s over. I want to see the boys laughing in the ocean with their pink cheeks (all six sets). I want to see the sand castles and the sand crab refuge.

I want to eat steamed crabs like only Marylanders know how. And to drink Sea Breezes on the porch after the kids fall asleep exhausted from the sun.

Only then will I be ready to say adieu.