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With every thing that the Teen finishes up, I'm all, "thank God that's done." And then the next day, "ohmigod, that's DONE!" College decisions, made. AP tests, taken. Prom dress, selected. And the killer, last high school performance, completed.

Performing Shakespeare's Antony & Cleopatra was an incredible undertaking for a high school. I'm not usually one to comment on how many lines are memorized - actors know that's the easy part - but in this case, let's give credit where credit is due. For A Midsummer Night's Dream, the leads Oberon, Puck, and Titania each have in the neighborhood of 250 lines. In this production - with a few cuts to the play - Antony and Cleopatra have about 700 each. So, yeah.

Top off that incredible bit of memorization in about two months with incredible, emotional performances by both leads. Of course I'm extremely proud of my Teen, but I have to give credit also to her Antony without whose commitment she couldn't have shined so brightly. The student critics described their chemistry as impeccable, excellent, impressive, intense, dynamic, and unfaltering. And from someone who clearly needs a hug, “fairly believable.” Not too shabby for two teens who aren't dating but need to present one of the most passionate couples in history.

Back to that critic thing. Our area participates in the Cappies program where student critics attend each other's plays and submit reviews for local publication and for local theatre awards. Teen's reviews came in with wonderful acclaims that pass a parent's glowing accounts. She was noted highly in just about every review (with the exception of one where the critic seemed to find the actors a necessary focal point for the lighting) described as a "driving force" with "vibrant physicality,"and "amazing, both sensual and insane," with "constant energy" and a "broad range of emotional acting." And the line that sums it up, "Possessing both a vice-like grip on the audience and a brimming amount of confidence, Coughlan held the audience’s attention from her extravagant entrance to her tragic end."

So yeah again, I'm proud. And glad the practice and performance is over, because it was intense. And sad that it's over too. It's hard being a mom of a Senior, but especially of a theatre kid. She plans to do some Shakespeare in college, but who knows how she'll be able to compete there. But honestly, if this was the last thing she did in theatre, it would be such a high note that I'd take it.

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It's been an intense, soul-searching time for the Teen and I as we analyzed, compared, deliberated and ruminated on colleges. I'm excited to say that she's decided on George Washington University!

It fits everything she is looking for in a college, put together in parts. It's an urban campus offering the city of Washington, DC to explore. Yet, it also has a smaller, greener campus that is mostly residential and a short shuttle ride away from the main campus, four blocks away from the White House. It offers the resources and variety of a large university, but being admitted to the honors program gives her a small, nurturing community of advisors and intellectual challenge. There are great programs in political science and public policy, which is where her interests are leaning, and several combined programs for earning a Masters degree. She was offered a large scholarship that puts the school in our price range, plus they'll take enough of her AP credits that she may be able to knock out a semester. The school is very focused on internships and since she lives near, she may be able to turn one into a summer job. She'll be close to home, but the environment is completely different from the suburban area where we live.

And omigod the dorm! The honors program offers housing in a dorm that has four single rooms that open into a common area with shared bathroom in a hall with a full kitchen and laundry in a building that houses the dining area and - I swear it's true - a black box theatre space. Could it be more perfect? Oh yeah, the Shakespeare learning community is housed in the same campus.

Okay, that long description was indulgent, but it's for the five or six people who may be interested in the decision process. I'm available for personal college consultation on request. I also do children's parties.

I'm happy that things look so ideal for her, and also that we're done. Honestly I'm ready to have my brain back from thinking about colleges and you know, her "future." It's tiring. Deciding whether to read the new teen book OR the adult bestseller is more my speed. (Answer: duh, both.)

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March has been an anxious month waiting for college acceptances to arrive, and I suppose I don't write when I'm anxious. I can't say what else I was doing, besides churning over the same college information and cleaning out the computer/storage room. Oh, and shoveling snow, which was flippin' weird in March.

But the results are in, and they are good for the Teen. She didn't quite make her reach school Columbia, but was admitted to its sister school Barnard. She swept our Virginia colleges with acceptances from University of Virginia, University of Richmond, and William & Mary, along with UNC at Chapel Hill. A last minute addition of George Washington University is looking promising with an admittance to a selective honors program and a large scholarship.

With such a variety of good schools to consider and such a big decision to make, I can't say how present I'll be online this month either. Though there is a significant difference in the tension of not being able to move forward because you have no idea what to decide among, and the tension of having many good choices to decide among. If it's any indication, this nagging lower back pain I've had for weeks is suddenly gone.

If you have anything to share about the schools, I'd love to hear. Especially about GWU or Barnard, where I don't have any insider view. William & Mary is safely covered by its two alumni in this very house - which is probably killing Teen's view of it - and Richmond is too expensive.

All right, I'm going to move on because I could write for hours comparing what we know of those schools and how they fit my daughter and what that could eventually mean for her future and if any will affect her potential as President...

Oh, yeah everything else is fine. The Kid is on a chorus trip to DisneyWorld and auditioned for a summer theatre program of Legally Blonde, which should be fun. My mom is doing fine from her recent follow-up appointment and got a new kitty friend. The husband and I are coming up on our twentieth year anniversary, and will likely have to pretend that it is actually occurring at a more convenient time to celebrate. Like 2016.

If you're reading this, thanks for staying around. I haven't been a great citizen of the KidLitosphere, but I love my friends in it too much to disappear entirely. Just sometimes, for odd stretches of time. Be well!

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If you've been following my involvement with my mom's health issues, I have a positive update. We went to a follow-up visit at Johns Hopkins that started early and ended late, but yielded some good news along the way. The whole story is in the middle, but jump to the end if you want.

In review, my mother had a stroke two years ago that primarily damaged her language and cognition centers. She recovered language elements pretty quickly and improved steadily. The cognition aspects made some basic things confusing, but again improved quickly and steadily. Two years out her language issues are primarily in mixing up names or having some trouble finding the right word, but is generally good. The cognition problems are minor in everyday life as they are established with routine. New things can still be a challenge and numbers are difficult for her.

In the MRI for the stroke, they found a large, benign tumor that caused the stroke by closing a main artery. The slow growth of the tumor probably constricted the artery over time, allowing other arteries and blood vessels to compensate. Otherwise the effects from her stroke would have been worse. However, the tumor was pressing on her optic nerve, and unless it was done growing would eventually damage her vision, perhaps entirely.

Thus started two years of visits to one of the premier medical institutions available to us, Johns Hopkins, which is about an hour and a half away from my house. After numerous visits, tests, and consults, the best advice was to watch and wait, hoping that the tumor didn't grow and press further on the optic nerve. Surgery was extremely risky and radiation would be very difficult, given that she would have to live in Baltimore for weeks.

Things didn't change significantly with the tumor until this past spring, when a deterioration in her visual field was noted. At this point she could do nothing and accept that she could go blind or go through the radiation process with hopes of stabilizing her vision. Over the summer she went for radiation treatment every day for six weeks. Since neither of us live in Baltimore, it involved an expensive hotel stay and a series of extended visits from my brother and me to help. It was not pleasant for anyone and we couldn't even know if it worked.

But finally,good news. While the new MRI didn't show a significant change in the tumor - which would be vaguely positive - the extensive visual tests show a slight improvement in her visual field and in the image of the optic nerve itself. The best we had hoped for was a stabilization, which would have always left the question of whether the radiation had stopped/shrunk the tumor or not. But the slight improvement, while not obvious to my mom, shows that the tumor is not pressing on the optic nerve as much as before. So the radiation - and that terrible summer - was worth it.

She will continue with six month follow-ups, but hopefully we are done with this aspect of her health issues. It's a great relief and an answered prayer.

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While it was frustrating to be offline for much of the month, it may be just what I needed to get back on track. Or at least to find the track. We'll see how it plays out.

My schedule at work is settling a bit, now that I'm not covering summer vacations, and with the girls at school, I'm enjoying having a place to go, work, and earn money. I'm on the committee to select books that we'll promote for next year's summer reading program. I'll also be moderating a panel at Fall for the Book, so I think they like me.

Teen got the coveted - by her - role of Tatiana the fairy queen in her high school's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. We worked on her callback material together, and she's going to be great. She also was selected as the lead critic for her school's Cappies program, probably due in part to the three reviews that she got published as a critic last year.

In the first week of school, the Kid finished a fantastic performance of 13: The Musical. It was so professional these teens could have gone on tour with the show. The next week she got the part of Mayzee, the amazing bird, in Seussical. As soon as I heard her sing the bluesy "How Lucky You Are" I knew she was getting that role.

My mom is feeling much better back at home, completely recovered from the radiation side effects and back to herself. She negotiated getting her house painted and is able to drive again. Though she restricts herself to the doctor, the supermarket, and the animal shelter where she volunteers.

Without books on the brain, I've been tackling some long overdue household organization. Still a lot to go, but it's a process. Also I'm feeling less nervous about the election, so that's a relief.

So that's what's been going on. Now that we're all caught up here, I hope to be a little more present - mentally and virtually. And hey, on Friday I'll be heading to New York City for KidLitCon! Can't wait to see everyone!

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I had hoped that I'd be able to tap into my Reader side this week, but the Mother part of me is crowding out everything else mentally. The difference this time is that it is being the mother to my mother.

So again, we have another personal post instead of anything to do with books, reading, or libraries. (Though to be fair to myself, it is my personal stories day.) I had thought I'd sit her in the business center room of the Radisson and tidy up some notes into a review or two. But instead there's a steady flow of Muzak that may be damaging my psyche and all I can think about is my own experience, right now.

I wouldn't talk about this openly if my mom read my blog, but she doesn't understand the Internet. Honestly though there's nothing that we haven't talked about anyway. Especially now that we're here in Baltimore beginning her treatments at Johns Hopkins. I never thought it would be easy, but I didn't think it would be this hard.

I couldn't have predicted the heat wave that makes it impossible to go outside for any length of time, nor could I have planned for a nearby water main break that has shut down some of the local eateries I was counting on. Maybe I should have been more realistic about my mom's strength in being able to walk a few blocks, and I could have been less optimistic about the side effects of treatment. I know I've been too hopeful about her ability to handle more on her own, and that worries me.

I have faith in the radiation therapy done with the best doctors in the best hospital in the country. But the fact that she's not feeling good or strong now, at the very beginning, is not a promising look at the next month. I feel bad for her, certainly, but I kind of feel bad for myself. (And feel guilty for feeling that way.) It's hard taking charge, making decisions, missing work, and leaving my kids behind to manage all this in another city. Talking among my friends, I know I'm not alone in the sandwich generation - taking care of kids and aging parents simultaneously - but haven't figured out how to manage it. Except, perhaps, one day at a time.

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It's past time for a personal post, if for nothing else than to explain myself for the last month. I have all these blog-worthy events, including Book Expo America and my own 48 Hour Book Challenge, without the time to blog about them. But I am coming to the end of the month of crazy, and hope things will be a bit more functional.

Starting back at work in mid-May was wonderful, but certainly a new time drain at the most difficult period of the school year. On my fifth day of work I was doing a solo booktalking session at an elementary school, so it seems obvious that my first week at work was busy getting ready for making those presentations along with all the other new job stuff.

But nothing compares to the next two weeks where I went to BEA, did a school booktalk broadcast, went to a booktalking session, did and ran 48 Hour Book Challenge while arranging and/or attending Also-Teen's voice recital and dance practices. Then the second week I worked most days while helping my kids through the work and/or stress of finals, and gave a talk at the Children's Book Guild of Washington D.C. (thanks for having me!). Closed that week out with a teen sleepover at my house and then took my seventh eighth grade Girl Scouts to Great Wolf Lodge for their cookie money event.

This week I simply have to work while getting Also-Teen to her dance rehearsals and three recitals while finalizing her paperwork, course selection, and hopefully housing for the Broadway Artists Alliance program she's doing in New York City in August. (If anyone in the city will not be using their apartment during the week of August 5th, you could help a future Broadway star and her mother.)

Only then can I fully address the looming problem I've been avoiding all month. My mother will need month-long radiation treatment at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore where neither she nor I live. I'll be figuring that out in the next week, God help me.

There's a lot of good stuff there that was making the last few weeks crazy. Seriously positive, exciting, wonderful events. So I can't really complain. But I can explain the chaotic feeling and be ready for a calmer summer.

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Last week I was speculating on going back to work in the public library system. Now with two work days behind me, I can say that it's all good.

My main worry had been not knowing what I didn't know. Having done the job for nine years, I was aware that subtle but significant changes can take place along over time. Different procedures, new databases, and branch particulars could influence the things I thought I knew. Then there are the things I've forgotten almost entirely, like trouble-shooting the Internet sign-ups and print jobs.

As it turns out, that wasn't as much a problem as I feared. The books, the library, the customer service are all coming back like riding a bicycle. If the other parts keep me a bit off-balance, then maybe it's like riding a unicycle. But either way, it's not stressful. My co-workers are nice, helpful, and understanding. The patrons have been patient, even when I lead them in the completely wrong direction in the library. (Oops.) There are definitely some things I need to learn or relearn, but I'm getting back in the game quickly.

In fact, I'll do my first book talking session in a week! I had been planning to do this as a volunteer anyway, so I did have some books planned. My Fair County puts together a list of books for the Summer Reading Program that used to consist of new titles, but now pulls from years of great books. The good thing for me is that they are titles I've used before, making the work that much easier. Of course, I never write these things down, so maybe not that much easier.

Since I'm starting with a kindergarten through third grade, my focus is on picture books today. Sharon Creech has written the perfect booktalk title with A Fine, Fine School about a principal who thinks school should go all the time because he's so proud of his students and teachers. Reading about keeping school going all year long is so much fun to do in a room full of kids days before summer break. I'm also looking at Bark, George as a read aloud, because it's first title I ever booktalked. Yup, really. I already have a stuffed rabbit to wear on my head to introduce A Boy and his Bunny, which I'll pitch as a beginning reader as well as a picture book. I'm also looking to the wonderful Steve Jenkins for Prehistoric Actual Size and the new Just a Second. Of course, it wouldn't be me if I didn't bring the magic of Mo Willems to my booktalk with the Elephant and Piggie series. I'm still pinning down my early chapter book selection

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Recently things have been falling into place. So of course, I'm very nervous. It seems about time to find out that my attic is infested with bats or that Ted Nugent is my half-brother.

First, a friend told me about a local theatre doing Tween's new favorite musical, 13: The Musical, with auditions starting right after she finishes her musical revue show. It's a very exciting possibility for a summer program, so wish her luck. Also, she's no longer Tween but also-Teen. We'll see if it sticks.

Teen and I went to a driving information session together, and I left feeling pretty good. I saw that I have a conscientious, careful, and intelligent girl I'm sending out on the roads. I also kept my head down and doodled through all of the scary, crash videos, because I don't need that. Though the music video at a crash site was quite something. Teen deadpanned a comment to me about the new trend of musicians showing up at accidents, to which I added, "Like flash mobs, but much smaller. And really, really sad."

But other than our obvious bonding time, I realized that Teen will be driving soon. As in driving herself and her sister to places. As in I will not always be the one driving Teen and also-Teen around the greater Northern Virginia area. Which leads me to my next breakthrough: a working mom schedule is now a pretty workable thing.

Actually, it was another friend who helped me realize that I was being overanxious and rigid about my responsibilities and what I can do. While I have commitments to the needs of my daughters, my mom, and my Girl Scouts, I also have a desire to work and a need to earn some money. I mean, Columbia isn't going to pay for itself. (Actually, according to their financial aid calculator, it kind of is going to pay for itself, at least in part. So besides the whole "getting in" thing, we could do this.)

If I were going to make a toast - and let's say I'm doing that with a bottle of Funky Llama I picked up at Safeway - I'd have to raise a glass to friends, to perspective, and to falling into place. And what the hell, to Ted Nugent. Cheers.

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My home library branch has recognized me as a star volunteer to my Fair County. I feel very honored and also a little bit guilty. After all, I spend maybe three hours a month on the Science & Stories program and an hour doing it. Now granted, when I do a children's program I am flippin' on fire, but I'm not sure about Star Volunteer. Meteorite Volunteer seems closer.

It is a well timed distinction for my service to the library system as I am thinking of going back to it. Not that it has been a choice in the last few years, because it hasn't. The system was still in the process of layoffs or the few random openings were too far from my home. But things may be changing in the near future, and I can only hope that my years of experience, my work in children's literature, my obvious passion, and hey, even my Star Volunteer recognition can trump some adjustments I might need in scheduling.

Leaving my program today, I felt so energized. Completing a great session is such a rush for me. I remember talking to colleagues who were ready to take a nap afterwards, but I always felt charged after storytimes. It's something I've really missed about my job. Honestly, I had more energy at home when I was working than I do now and I was also forced to budget my time better.

Anyway, I don't know what will happen or when, but for today I feel a little bit like a star. How about you? What's making your day?

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I am so ready to get back on track, if only I could find the track itself. I wouldn't have thought that when I wrote about taking a bit of a blogging break that I would be writing it from a high point of my search.

Then I felt like I was being pulled back into the working world, not altogether reluctantly. Yet didn't know which form that work would take. Well, last month was a tsunami of stay-at-home mom responsibilities that gave me pause. Teen needed glasses for the first time and started driving lessons. Tween had organizational issues with homework and you know, not turning it in, that needed addressing. Also Tween was cast in a community theatre musical revue, which is fantastic, but does require someone to drive her there a few times a week. (Pssst! Guess who that would be.) My husband hurt his back, and is still struggling with pain and stiffness. Meanwhile, I was both leading and managing cookie sales for two Girl Scout troops because my co-leader for each troop were having their own issues.

I came into this Spring Break week like I was sliding into home base - exhausted, relieved, and elated to have made it. All through this I was struggling with writing. Like, anything. I was getting writer's block on review summaries and Facebook updates. Even now, with most of the problems past, I feel clumsy on the keyboard. I'm not finding the flow I've always counted on. (Well, except for my Grow-Up post which I'll count as one of my new favorites.)

So today's post is one part explanation and one part inquiry asking this:

In terms of writing, how do you get back on track?

I'd love to hear from my writing friends, which is to say any or all of you.

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All right, so a post on summer's end is a bit overdue, but I was desperate to hold onto those last days almost to the point of denial. With the girls in the second day of school and the temperature hovering around sixty-five degrees, I think I might have to accept the close of my favorite season.

We had a good run, summer and I. There's no arguing that. Spent several days going to the beach and had my niece with us for a total of three weeks. Having a five year old around gave me and my big girls a chance to check out the new American Girl store, go to the zoo, splash in the pool, and basically visit all the things we used to do when they were little. We even dug out the Barbies. It was kinda magical. If a bit exhausting at times, because My God the boundless energy of a kindergartener was a shock to my lackadaisical system.

Of course, the New York City trip was amazing. Spending two weeks there very gave us a feel for the city and really, the city life as we negotiated the subway and carried our groceries up two flights of stairs. The tween had the most fantastic opportunity to learn Broadway skills from actual Broadway actors/singers/dancers, choreographers, and agents. It was thrilling in every way. The teen and I spent our time exploring the city and enjoying each other's company. And there were shows, museums, and stores - oh my!

Here at home, we simply hung out. Sometimes there would be people in town to visit or a sleepover to attend, but we spent a lot of time just being around each other. Watching movies, reading books, playing video games, hitting the mall, and taking a swim. I really, really like being with my girls and feel extremely fortunate to be able to say that. j

Which is why the end of summer and the beginning of school is so hard for me. I really miss them during the day. But I have to admit that I do better getting on a schedule in terms of housework and well, blogging. So I hope to be back here with more consistency and let's say, effort as the KidLitosphere lights up with Cybils, KidLitCon, and fall season books. It's go time!

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For our summer vacation we went to New York City. Generally it would be an odd choice for late July, when the heat of the concrete brings the temperature most closely approximate to that of Hell. And that's not even counting the smell...

But we had a purpose in the tween's Broadway Artist's Alliance two week program and a drive to enjoy the city to the fullest extent. With our previous visits, we no longer felt the need to hit the tourist places, but instead to experience the city life and try new things.

Tween had a wonderful time at BAA, honing her performance skills with some illustrious Broadway faculty. Her favorite moment was practicing her song "Lamest Place in the World" by singing directly to Adam Kantor - of RENT fame. Our favorite was seeing her monologue in the final showcase, which she delivered perfectly. Truly, I found the showcase for parents and industry astonishing in that every one of those kids was fantastic. There was one boy who sang well but looked nervous, which just reinforced for me how amazing it was that seventy kids under fifteen years old performed well and with confidence.

Teen and I had a blast exploring the city. We often feel like best friends, but even more so on this trip where we were really travel buddies. Together we'd figure out what we wanted to do, we each made compromises for each other, helped sooth over each other's cranky spells, and looked to find the humor in things. We walked until our feet hurt. We shopped, but bought very little. We laughed a lot, and treated ourselves to cupcakes, cookies, and chocolates as needed.

I don't even know how I would go into everything we did, or who would care to read it, so I'll go for a summary of our adventures. We window shopped at Saks, Tiffany's, FAO Schwartz, Apple, Prada, and American Girl. At Bond #9 we decided on our signature scents and wished we could be "job creators." We went to the American Natural History Museum, Museum of Modern Art, Tenement Museum, and the Museum of the Moving Image in Queens. Teen toured Columbia University (loved it. oh, no...) and New York University (great film studies program) and NBC studios (possible future page postion).Teen and I took a dance class at BAA with Tyrick Jones, watched Broadway on Bryant Park, and toured the New York Public Library.

We saw RENT off-Broadway, and would have liked it better if our seats hadn't been so bad. Teen and I saw Avenue Q, which was funny, brilliant, and quite raunchy for a show with puppets. We all went to see two Broadway plays, Catch Me if You Can - which was fun - and How to Succeed in Business - which was ridiculously entertaining, especially Daniel Radcliffe who was working as hard as I've ever seen an actor work. No phoning it in for this kid. Look at him dance:



Over the two weeks the family sampled street fairs and sample sales, gelato and gyros, The Strand and the High Line, Rockerfeller Center and Fort Tryon Park. Our home base for the first week was a friend's apartment in the peaceful, lovely, birdsong-filled Washington Heights. We spent the second week in my cousin's place in the accessible, lively, city-at-your doorstep East Village. There was no drive to purchase "souvenirs," but we bought books, sund

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I am freaking out. I've known for six months that we'd be going to New York City for two weeks, but it didn't seem real. I've arranged housing, with grateful thanks given to a kind friend and a bi-coastal cousin. I've met program deadlines and booked theater tickets.

But with the ending of the school year, taking care of the ailing cat, hosting my niece for a week, and having my dad for a short visit, I haven't had time to really think about the trip. Which I'm doing now. And freaking out.

It's for business and pleasure, but the business end has nothing to do with me or my husband who won't join us until later. The trip is undertaken for the benefit of my twelve year old daughter who was invited to return to the competitive theatre program, Broadway Artists Alliance. For two weeks she will work on voice, acting, and dance with an audition/performance for agents and casting directors at the end of each week. She will put in long days, with endurance sort of part of the training. After all, kids who can't hack this kind of intensity aren't ready for Broadway.

My job is to get her to and from the program, go over her audition pieces with notes from her coaches, and most importantly, to be a calming, gentle refuge at the end of each day. Sounds simple enough, but the anxiety of a new, stressful place in the city heat can tax the most patient of people - of which I am not. But I will do my best.

In any case, I just don't feel like I've thought about this trip enough. Other than our theatre tickets, I've made no plans for me and my older daughter during the days. I don't know if/when I will be switching apartments, which will effect other aspects of the trip. I'm worried about the new pieces that tween is learning and also if I remember the right keys to get into the apartment. I'd like to see some New York friends but in the era of Facebook friends, I honestly don't know who'd like to see me. So I'm putting it out there that I'm free business hours all day with the most charming TeenReader - who could also use a friend or an agent.

I'm not sure what I will be doing on the blog, though I'm accepting guest bloggers. Again, if you're interested get in touch. I'm finding it hard to write anything of bookish value. In fact, I'm finding it hard to even read anything. The best literary thing I've done is start watching all of the Harry Potter movies over again with the family in preparation for our viewing of the final movie on Sunday. The next day I'll go to New York with my girls, three suitcases, and perhaps a bottle of Jack. Wish us luck.

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Lately, I am surrounded by need, and I am overwhelmed by it all. A beloved and sick cat makes another mess. People close to me who are struggling with depression tap my energy stores. The homeless shelter that gratefully took the forty-five individual art supply bags for their resident children and teens, asks us to return. A local family has extreme needs that I cannot solve.

I've helped my kitty as much as I can, and I accept that her time is sadly near. For those struggling with depression, I can offer my support and counsel. I can call and visit, be cheerful or thoughtful. For the shelter, I can feel proud of our accomplishment in my Girl Scout troops giving so many kids something a little nice that may help pass the time. I can keep my opened eyes aware of other ways I can contribute, and alert others to the possibilities.

But this needy family is a problem I can't solve, and I could use some counsel. I've been involved for a few months, enough to know that the mom is mentally handicapped and manipulative and untrustworthy. I've given the family furniture, which promptly disappeared. I gave them food once, so I get asked for food now whenever the mom doesn't feel like going to get it. When I offered to drive her to a local food distribution center, she said she'd get another ride. They run up a phone bill, and then ask me or another friend of mine for hundreds of dollars to pay it - which, of course, we can't. Drugs may or may not be involved in the household, where I see far too many adults hanging around. To the best of my knowledge, social services is involved.

While I've talked of the difficulty with the mother, I can never forget that this is a family of school-age kids, with two girls and two boys. I have a connection with one of the girls through my daughter, and we go to pick her up for activities. I don't know the boys at all, except for the way they hover around me like eager puppies wanting a treat whenever I come by. They seem to crave even just a few minutes of conversation. I try not to come empty-handed, bringing a few books, art supplies, or clothes that "maybe they could use."

But the more I come, the more they want from me and I'm not sure what more I can give. Over the summer we planned to keep up with my daughter's classmate, because we have a relationship already and can build on it. Since they don't have a phone, we have a weekly playdate to go swimming or to a movie or come over and play video games, and always to have dinner with us. Another mom is doing the same with the younger daughter. But what to do with the boys?

I literally don't have room for all of them in my car, for one. I don't know them, and I don't do boys, so I'm at a loss for what I would do with them. The mother's manipulative and dishonest nature scares me a bit in taking any responsibility for them, because I don't put it above her to lie in hopes of getting something out of me where my developed trust with the older daughter precludes that. And frankly, I feel emotionally and financially stretched enough.

I would love to get more help from my local community, and yet getting others involves puts that person at the same risk I went through to realize the limitations of the help that can be given. There's also the issue of privacy in a relatively small community.

I'm mostly writing here as a catharsis, but would be happy for any advice, suggestions, words of wisdom that can be offered. What do you do when the needs are so great that you are weighed down by them?

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When I told my good friend about my wonderful experiences at Book Expo America, she replied, "Yeah, you do work a convention floor like no one I know." Her statement made me wonder what precisely I do that helps me make connections, meet authors, and sometimes get me some free stuff. And I can I share that knowledge with my readers and fellow convention goers? Well, I've been thinking about it for a few days and I think I've broken it down to three factors for success.

Be Friendly
It is important to understand that being friendly isn't the same thing as being nice or polite. Everyone on the convention floor should be polite and frankly nice. But being friendly is a step up. It's thinking about the other person's comfort as well as your own. It can be approaching someone because they seem alone or in need. It can even be phrasing things so that the person has a chance to do you a favor and to be appreciative.

I really wanted a copy of the promotional piece being done for Chanukah Lights, but I had arrived too late to get tickets. As the line got shorter, I went to the publisher there and nicely asked if there was any way for me to get tickets, as this was one of the only ticketed authors I had wanted to see today. I asked if I might be able to wait until the ticketed participants had gone through, but she was able get me a ticket. At the signing I shared how happy I was to be there and Michael Rosen and Robert Sabuda signed the lovely image of old-fashioned apartment for my Grandma's 100th birthday, which made everyone feel good

Be Sincere
In a world of hyperbolic marketing, sincerity comes through. In the above situation, it was true that this was one of my highest priorities, and the publisher could tell. Also it wasn't as much a hyped author and illustrator as some, and she knew that too. So both my honesty and delight were genuine. Generally, as I go through the exhibit floor, I comment and complement a lot. I look through books and tell the publishers specifically what I like about the author, illustrator, or art. If I see a good promotion or swag, I tend to mention it. If I enjoyed a conversation, I say so. I do so without expectations, and yet often leave with books, swag, and contacts. And when I don't, that's also fine with me because I shared something that maybe makes their day a tiny bit nicer.

During the last hours of the show, I mentioned to the woman there how much I liked Lulu's business cards - that I thought they were very eye-catching. The woman seemed unimpressed by my compliment, but a young man leaned over to tell me that he designed them. That gave us a chance to talk about the cards, promotion pieces and the power of good design. The next thing I know he's giving me a couple of hats for my daughters.

Be Resilient
I thought a lot about how to define this third trait. Was it about being confident? No, because I'm always surprised if people know my blog. Is it about being fearless? No, because I do get nervous, flustered, and embarrassed. But I trust in being resilient. I'm not afraid to do something wrong because it's the price of often getting it right. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That's true, but putting yourself out there means that sometimes it doesn't go right and you have to let those experiences roll off you

Coming

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What happens on Wednesdays, stays on Wednesdays.

This week both of my girls are engaged in the theatre. In fact, though one of them is still in sixth grade, she is playing a child in one scene of the play opening tomorrow. The teen doesn't have a speaking role, which isn't surprising for a freshmen in a huge high school, but is the understudy for the lead.

The lead who was sick yesterday in the middle of the dress rehearsal.

Teen and I were up late last night preparing for the possibility - now much more real - that she will live the famous statement, "the show must go on." And yet, she also may not. Actors recover, dig deep, and go on anyway. Thus is the anxiety and thankless task of the understudy. I have to say that I'm not even sure what to wish for. I'd love to see her get a chance, just one performance, and at the same time I know how scary that would be for someone who hasn't had the practice onstage. I'll let you know what happens.

For me, today I'll be selling tickets at school, running carpool for actor kids, and later making cookies - hopefully with bite marks in them. Oh, I need to mention that the play is Dracula. Cool, huh? Here's the teaser trailer that teen made for the morning announcements. It's had the school abuzz. Enjoy.

Dracula - Teaser from Tohubohu Productions on Vimeo.

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What happens on Wednesdays, stays on Wednesdays.

I call the little front patch my Darwinian garden, because I throw a bunch of things in there and see what survives. But that designation isn't entirely accurate, because I do attempt to keep the weeds down as whatever I've tried to plant has a chance to grow.

This spring has been unusual, it seems, in the amount of rain and the continuing chilly weather - with the rain urging the weeds to grow and the cold keeping me from yanking them out. At the beginning of April they were a pretty addition to the garden, covering the dirt and tangling the dead leaves in a carpet of green with delicate white flowers. But now the weeds have taken over the little patch, thwarting any efforts to plant by making me Do Something About Them.

Yesterday as I spent a second hour in the dirt, I was thinking about how much these weeds are like so much else in my life. I saw the signs and could have done something earlier, but it wasn't going to be pleasant. So I avoided it, and now the job is much harder. Now these things have roots, and I have to get in the dirt. I have more to carry out, and I've left new seeds behind that I'll have to deal with later. The task seems overwhelming. Oh, and all this digging around makes me sick. (Allergies, you know.)

Sounds like everything else I've avoided. Clutter. Decisions. Relationships. Even the friggin' economy fits the weed metaphor.

So maybe that's why, when the weather gets warm, I don't mind the hours in the garden. Because there, with some time, energy, and a willingness to work, I can see concrete results. All the digging makes the soil ready for something new to take hold. What I plant is up to me, and how those plants grow is always somewhat of an experiment. The pumpkins might peak too soon, or the cantaloupes may take over the mums. Last summer morning glories just showed up, curled around what appears to be a new flowering tree.

A tree that grew, I may note, because I simply left it alone wondering what it would turn out to be. Because the clause that makes the rule so much more complicated, is that there are occasions where leaving something alone is the right choice. That's life in the garden. That's life.

How are you tending your garden?

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What happens on Wednesdays stays on Wednesdays.

You may have heard about Senator Jon Kyl’s remarks condemning Planned Parenthood because over 90% percent of its funds go to providing abortions. Of course, a quick media fact check found that abortion procedures account for closer to three percent, which is a pretty large difference from the Senator’s statement. The response from Kyl’s office was extraordinary in its brazen disregard for truth, justice, and the American way — or outright lying on the Senate floor. The response was that his comment was “not intended to be a factual statement.”

Both Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert have taken the Senator to task on their shows, segments of which are shown at The Huffington Post. But Stephen Colbert has turned it into performance art with his series of tweets under the tag #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement.

A sampling:

• Jon Kyl thinks no one can see him when he puts a paper bag on his head.
  #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement
  
  
• Once a year, Jon Kyl retreats to the Arizona Desert and deposits 2 million egg sacs under the sand. #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement
  
  
• Jon Kyl can, and will, deny that you’re a jolly good fellow.
  #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement
  
  
• Jon Kyl developed his own line of hair care products just so he could test them on bunnies. #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement
  
  
• John Kyl is 90% prune juice. #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement

The hashtag has been taken up by the Colbert Nation with a slew of humorous or would-be-slanderous lines, though few have topped the pithy, perfect tweets of Colbert, including the top tweet so far:

• Jon Kyl bought a SodaStream so he could drink *carbonated* tears of the poor. #NotIntendedToBeAFactualStatement

What’s your favorite one on Twitter? What would you add to the list?

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...stays on Wednesdays.

Recently I started a decluttering process for the house. Well, that isn’t completely accurate, because I feel like I’ve been making decluttering attempts for most of my adult life. But now that I’m not working, I actually have the time and energy to deal with things on more than a superficial, get-it-out-of-the-way level.

It hasn’t been easy, and it’s certainly slow going. I’ve always had an attachment to Things that makes it very hard to get organized. Getting rid of things is the hardest, but I’m gaining ground. I’ve donated a bunch of books to a local organization that puts them in the hands of needy children. I’ve also brought them my daughters’ outgrown clothes. I’ve recycled piles of magazines that were pushed “out of the way” but now seem in the way as I want a cleaner space.

Sorting various things is the hardest job so far. It takes me forever, and when I’m done — no matter how much it seems that I’ve thrown out — it doesn’t seem like I’ve made much progress. But at least in this job there is one mini-bonus: It’s like a little archaeological dig.

I tend to keep “important” papers together to deal with them and shuffle through them from time to time to find what I need. In this shuffling, some get tossed or used or filed and so the pile shrinks. It’s like compost. All the leftover papers end up in a plastic filing drawer, pretty much in the order they were as I was kinda sorta dealing with them. So now, as I’m going through these drawers, I’m finding three-year-old school essays, birthday cards, random photos, news articles, report cards, and my daughter’s drawings.

I love this.

It takes a lot of time to shuffle through it again and remove things that are now useless and/or bulky. Old class catalogs, random magazines, school newsletters, junk mail, and reminders for events long past. But I love these little looks into the past all contained in handfuls of paper. What we were doing in 2008 is reflected in this seemingly random collection of paper that includes an editorial about Obama’s election, several drawings of fairies, a presentation about the solar system, a map from Disney World, a photo of our baby tree, and flyers from school plays.

I’ll keep decluttering. I’ll keep culling papers. But I am keeping my piles.

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stays on Wednesdays.

Today I need to talk about hamster racing. Yes, really. I saw a flyer at my local pet store about a hamster-ball racing event on Saturday and I came home all charged up. The idea of incorporating two things I love, hamsters and humor, was intoxicating. We started training the hamster, Cookie, and she isn't at good at hamster-ball running as I may have thought. Though it has led to some great moments. Like me sighing at the end of the evening realizing that we had forgotten to do our practice, and my teen saying with perfect comic delivery, "What?! Don't you want to be the mother of a champion?" Then there are the times that we encourage Cookie by singing the Rocky theme song, including when my husband comes in playing it on the iPod. Or when we refer to the hamsters' quick back-and-forth yard-long runs as similar to Rocky's runs on the stairs, and the teen starts laughing and says, "see, it's funny because Cookie hasn't even seen the movie!" (Actually, Cookie did see the movie and she found it rather derivative. She recommends Etienne! for discerning viewers of the rodent art film.)

Certainly this is a scene of some silly, family fun, but it's also a strategy. Not for the hamster-ball competition, which we are sure to lose at this point, but for injecting fun into the dreary times. I talked last week about feeling off-balance, and I truly appreciated your responses. But the venting and connecting can't be the end game, or it's all too easy to sink into misery. It's tempting to look over our legitimate reasons for being down, taking our comfort in commiseration and validation. But while we may feel better about our right to feel down, we don't actually feel better - and that should be the ultimate goal.

We need to allow ourselves, force ourselves even, to take a break from the heaviness and replenish our strength. Take a nap, draw a picture, watch a show, make a collage, pull the weeds, buy some flowers, arrange a closet, or (duh) read a book. You may even engage in the rising sport of hamster racing. In that case, Cookie and I will see you at the next meet.

Yes, we actually had this calendar hanging over Cookie's cage and it was hysterical.

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stays on Wednesdays.

A child bit my child yesterday. This would be another normal milestone in the parental path except for the fact that my child is eleven years old. And the biter was twelve. Sixth graders, biting and being bit over sharing a hula hoop at recess. What is going on here?

It defines in one scenario the way that everything seems off kilter, in big and small ways. In the world we went from uprising in Egypt to devastation in Japan to bombing in Libya. In the United States, one man takes away the rights of multitudes and the conversation is about the lavish salaries of teachers while we ignore the compensation packages of executives that the taxpayers bailed out. In my area, two of the richest counties in the nation are looking at reducing contributions to programs that serve homeless children in our community. In my home I am wrestling with the limbo that is my mother's condition even given access to the nation's best physicians, and a situation with my daughter's friend in great need and a family who seems unable and somewhat unwilling to provide.

And some kid bit my kid in sixth grade, which isn't such big a deal really, but somehow puts into focus the sense that everything is off balance. I think my newfound drive to tackle household clutter is coming from a need to organize and straighten my surroundings in a chaotic time. The earthquake in Japan shifted the earth's axis. I feel mine shifted as well.

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