A guy walks into a bar....

So starts the story of how I met D. I think I even wrote about this before. I was out with friends even though I wanted to stay home. It was the weekend before my birthday and I was in no mood to celebrate, I wanted to be alone and figure out what to do with my life. It was almost a year since Starter Husband I had separated and I needed to get the ball rolling on filing for divorce before he wore me down and I went back to him. I was talked into going out dancing because I was too tired to say no. I don't think I even brushed my hair. As soon as we walk into the club this guy comes up to me and asks if I want to dance. I tell him "not right now thanks" and I go off to find my friends. I end up at the bar and the guy comes back, "Wanna dance now?" he asks, "uh, not now" I tell him. He starts to walk away and I tell him that he can hang and talk, I'm just not one for dancing. I kinda felt bad for him, he was cute and seemed like a nice guy. My friends went off to dance and his friends stood across the room giving him the thumbs up.

We had a nice conversation over the super loud disco playing in the background. We were in the same industry (entertainment, go figure) and talked about that for a while, honestly I can't remember what else we talked about, it was loud and hard to hear. I succumbed to the dancing after a while, it was easier than trying to decipher the conversation besides the drinks were starting to kick in which always helps.

We danced for a while until my friends decided they were done, they were bored and had not found any boys. I was happy to be taken off the dance floor but was actually having fun with Mr. Persistence. He gave me his number and for the first time in my life I gave out mine. I had met other guys before but never felt the desire to give out my information, if I liked them I called them, I felt safer that way. This guy was different, he seemed really nice, his friends high-fiving him on the dance floor was a little dorky but I wasn't one to judge. We said goodbye and I kissed him on the cheek, shocking my friends who had never seen me so much as wave goodbye to a guy in a bar.

Eight year ago today, I married that guy. It always makes me laugh when people ask how we met, they seem to expect a long drawn out romantic fairy tale or a story of epic proportions. Nope. We met at a bar. A completely modern tale of two people who happen to be at the same place at the same time. Was it fate? Destiny? Kismet? Nah, more likely it was the DJ at Kane who had a kickass playlist of groovy disco classics. D likes to tell people that he saw me there as soon as he walked in, that there was a light shining over my head but I think that it was the club lights reflecting off my dirty unbrushed hair.

Not that I don't believe in romance, our first date that next Friday (yes I agreed to a first date on a Friday, I didn't follow the LA dating rules) was wonderful. We learned that we had plenty in common including a love of football (even though our teams were mortal enemies) and sports bars. Our relationship didn't follow the rules either, we went from on again off again to friends only back to on again. I went from separated to divorced and moved from my cool but empty bachelorette pad to a duplex with friends until moving in with D.

We went from dating to cohabitation to engaged to married in three years.

It seems like it wasn't too long ago that I walked into that bar, I can still remember what I was wearing and how much I didn't want to be there. I can distinctly remember D coming up to me over and over again and feeling completely disarmed by his smile instead of annoyed by his persistence. I remember more about the night we met and our first date then our wedding (which is a blur to me sometimes). Luckily Earth, Wind and Fire wrote a song about that night, a song that I am positive was playing in the club on the night we met:

Do you remember the 21st night of September?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders
While chasing the clouds away

Our hearts were ringing
In the key that our souls were singing
As we danced in the night,
Remember how the stars stole the night away

on and on - say that you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - never was a cloudy day

My thoughts are with you
Holding hands with your heart to see you
Only blue talk and love,
Remember how we knew love was here to stay

Now December found the love that we shared in September.
Only blue talk and love,
Remember the true love we share today

on and on - say that you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - never was a cloudy day

on and on - say do you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - golden dreams were shiny days

Some bells were ringing
Our souls were singing
Do you remember,never a cloudy day?

on and on - say do you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - never was a cloudy day

on and on - say do you remember
on and on - dancing in September
on and on - golden dreams were shiny days

Happy Anniversary D!

I'm glad you walked into that bar.

New Math

Last year someone told me that second grade was the hardest for parents of elementary school students when it came to homework. All I could think was those are some stupid parents, how hard can it be do some reading comprehension and math problems? I was pretty sure I could handle it. I should have learned my lesson when I lost it doing homework last year. It's only the second week and already I'm annoyed.

I know that we lucked out in the teacher department, K is thrilled with Mrs. M and so are we. She's tough but kind, she's teaching them when they think they're playing. I already have a stack of paperwork from her informing us of the progress they have made in the class so far. Today along with the mountain of homework was a letter saying that while she hopes all the kids do the homework they way it's assigned she understands that kids are kids. That it shouldn't be taking longer than 30 minutes to complete the days homework, that if your kid tries and can't do it parents should just sign it and let the child hand it in. She also states that while homework is important she knows that other things can come up and just try to get it done the next day. OK so I felt better but I still feel the need to make K do what is assigned. I looked through the schoolwork that came back and was surprised that K got 6 wrong answers on an easy math sheet. Then I looked and saw that she she didn't get them wrong, she left them out. I have a feeling that her lack of attention got the better of her. I made her fill in the blanks and put the sheet in her folder which goes back in the morning.

Then we looked over what she had for the week. It was a lot but properly managed could be finished rather quickly. That would require no fidgeting and a steadfast attention. My daughter has neither. We got through the spelling, reading and "all about me" project. Then she really wanted to do the math sheet, I was glad she wanted to keep going, we needed to get ahead, she might be on a job Thursday which will mean one less day to finish the mountain.

The math sheet was fun for K. She had to make a graph of how many tickets were sold by students. She easily got through the graphs, answered the questions and showed all her work. Then we got to the end. The final question was to estimate "around how many" tickets were sold. While I understand what they were asking I didn't know why this was necessary in 2nd grade. K didn't get it either. She added them easily and didn't understand why they wanted to know the answer closest to the answer. I told her it was like taking one step forward and then two steps back. That made it worse. I understand the value of estimation but not when you're teaching kids addition. If they get the answer, great, end of story. There's plenty of time later for estimating.

Maybe it's me, I had a similar problem last year when they used doubles and "almost doubles" to help teach addition. K was good at math and had no problem with her addition problems. Then they started to ask what method she used to get her answer. She protested and demanded a "I just added it" answer. I then had to teach her a whole other way to add in order for her to get through her homework. That felt like one step forward and three miles back.

I remember when I was younger and had a question about a homework problem, my mother would always say "I can't help, I don't get that new math." Huh? Of course I know now that she didn't want any part of homework or maybe she realized that she couldn't help me, either way, I managed by myself, I also managed to help my sister who was only 2 years younger. Apparently math doesn't change in two years and that "new math' excuse didn't work when I tried to use it.

So here I am, years later, sitting next to my child and doing my best to help her. What do I get? New math. Actually new ways of doing math. I'm not going to tell her that I don't know it but I am going to tell her that I don't like it. I'm happy that she can add the old way, I'll do my best to show her how to use the new way but only for homework. Today after doing all the work correctly she was asked to figure out "around how many?" I can't get on board with this and it pisses me off. When I was a kid 10 plus 9 equaled 19, not almost 20.

New math? Sounds like lazy math to me.

It's going to be a long year.

Family game time

In a normal family that probably means Monopoly, Scrabble or even Uno. In my family it only means one thing: Football. D and I are ridiculous fanatics who are loyal to opposing teams. In fact our wedding vows include a few lines about our passion for the sport. When we had K all our friends were eager to see which team she was going to follow. Tradition was on my side, I'm a born and bred New York Jet's fan who spent Sundays watching my dad curse at the television while the Jets lost week after week, D chose to follow the New England Patriots as a kid after seeing Pat Patriot, their revolutionary minuteman logo. Either way a fan is a fan and I admired his loyalty following a team that wasn't just a cool team to watch. Then they won the Superbowl and it became annoying, then rivalry was back.

When K was three we decided it was unfair to make her pick a side and confusing for her to like both teams. I had received a sheet with all the team logo stickers and we let her choose (we took off the Miami Dolphins sticker because those fans were not allowed in our house). After careful deliberation she decided she was going to be a Detroit Lion's fan. Historically it made sense, she would learn the ropes of fanhood by following a team that truly sucked just like her parents. So for the next few years she watched her team lose with a disappointment that D and I knew well. Every year at the start of preseason she would ask if her team was going to stink, every year we told her yes. Still she happily cheered on her losing team making D and I supremely proud of our dedicated daughter.

This year D surprised her with an official Calvin Johnson jersey which she wore proudly (along with her hat and giant foam finger) on opening day. Even D and I got into the Detroit action as we both cheered and hoped for a Lion win. When a terrible call was made we yelled and screamed at the television, at one point I turned to D and said "honestly, did you ever think we'd be yelling about the Lion's?" It was a funny moment in the B household.

Back to D and I, twice a year, every year the Jets and Pats play each other. These games have traditionally hard to watch for me since the Jets always lose, not just lose but lose bad. It was OK because we were usually alone watching these games. We would always have a big kick-off party the first weekend of the season, one year we decided to have the party a week later for the Jet/Pat game (part was laziness and part was brilliant strategy) and suddenly the B Bowl was created. Friends couldn't wait to come over and watch us yell at each other, while it was all done in fun I think a few of our friends hoped for a brawl. I liked the tradition of having a house full of football fans watching us watch the game. The comments and jokes made it seem like we living in our own sitcom. I was always on the side that received the consoling pat on the back while D got the high fives. Then last year the unthinkable happened, in house full of friends the Jets won. Suddenly I was the one getting high fives while D got the "sorry bro" pat on the back. Now I'm not saying the Jets always lost these divisional games but it had never happened in my house with witnesses.

This years game looked like it was going to be a good one, the Jets were no longer the divisional jokes but an actual threat to the Patriots. We filled our house with football fans because neither one of us had the time to be gracious hosts, we didn't care who our friends cheered for as long as they knew that this was a serious moment in our house (not that we didn't have fun). Another tradition for this event was K's wardrobe, she was always dressed head to toe in the team that had home field advantage. Since becoming a Lion's fan she had the choice of attire. She usually obliged her insane parents by wearing the home team uniform. This year she was all Lions and greeted our guests in full Lions garb including face and hair paint. No one batted an eye, after knowing us so long it was inevitable that the fanatic gene would kick in. Friends now gave K consoling pats on the back about her beloved Lions and she took it like a B. We were so proud.

As the game went on people came and left but for the most part they all sat in our living room watching the game, now that K had her own team and her game was over she didn't want to waste the afternoon watching another game and went swimming with the son of a non-football fanatic, our friends L and D's kid J. L and D were gracious enough to watch the kids since neither D or I were able to. I won't go on with the specifics of the game (I know that D reads this and I don't want him to go through the heartache again), but the Jets won after coming back from a lousy first half. Our house was full and loud, non-fans always get in the action because it's easy to make fun of us. We don't trash talk or take it personally, we make comments here and there but it's not serious. At the end of the game the winner gives the lose a hug (which is always a win) and we make our predictions for the rest of the season.

I had a great time today, not only because of the "w" in my column, which is always a good thing, but because we've created a tradition. One that we all love. Within minutes after the game ended our phone were ringing, texts were flying and Facebook pages were filled with messages. My house was full of new friends, old friends and friends that we haven't seen in years. People that don't really know each other but get along like a big happy family. Which in reality is what that is for us. Family.

Some people love the holidays because it brings them together and that's cool. D, K and I have found our own way to bring everyone together in a way that's unique to us. We've created our own universal holiday and no one is excluded.

Well, except Dolphin fans.

Home atone

I never knew I was in a mixed marriage until I joined the synagogue down the street. I wanted K to go to the preschool there and one of the requirements (actually, it was the only requirement besides paying 10K of course) was to join the congregation. When I told the membership director that my husband wasn't Jewish she said that there were many mixed couples that belonged to the synagogue. Mixed? I had never really looked at it that way. I just thought that I was Jewish and D wasn't. Since he practiced no religion I didn't see it as any kind of mix. There was mine and that's about it. I never thought about how other people saw it. I told the director that D didn't practice any religion but he was happy to honor mine and had no problem with my desire to send K to a Jewish preschool. She asked if he had thought of converting, my laughter was her answer.

I was raised in a Jewish-lite household, around every six months we celebrated the holidays. That's about it. Starter husband's family was a little more into the religion and I happily obliged their way of worship. It was nice to have a Seder with 30 people yelling and screaming and sitting in shul was actually fun with my former sisters-in-law.

Then it was just me. The first year I was alone for Rosh Hashanah turned out to be the same day I was supposed to go the Emmy's, not to work but just to hang out with an all access pass. I decided it was better than sitting home alone and feeling sorry for myself. The next week I flew to New York in a last ditch effort made by started husband. Didn't work but I was spared a holiday alone. After that I manned up and bought tickets to synagogues near me.

When we moved to where we are now I marveled that I was a block away from a synagogue (I don't use the word "temple" for many reasons, one of them being I've never been a reform jew and they tend to use that term. The original or First Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians and was the site of sacrificial offerings. Just giving some facts.) The first year I went I was given tickets from a friend who wasn't going to use them and thought that I should. I put K in the daycare, which was the preschool, immediately I knew that she would someday soon end up there. I liked the service and felt very comfortable there even though they sung all the songs differently than back east.

I went back every year and when K was a student I went with my new friends and she got to sing and dance in a place she knew well. It was what I always envisioned except my husband wasn't there with me. He always asked if I wanted him to go, I always replied "only if you want to" and he never did. Which was fine, he was always there at school events and did the Shabbat lunches with great enthusiasm. I called him Jewish by association, an honorary MOT.

So that brings us to today. I let my membership at the synagogue down the street expire after the school director pissed me off by telling me that putting K in kindergarten early was depriving her of a year of her childhood. Not kidding. Even though we were no longer members we were welcome at the family service without a ticket, these services were so crowded they rented out a local theater to hold them. We go every year. We also take a walk back to our old shul for the final evening service, we've never been asked for a ticket there either.

Today D took K to karate and piano while I stayed home to atone in peace. I had time to think about what it was I wanted from my religion or any religion. I found no answer. D came with us to the family service and it was wonderful. It's not a deeply religious service (because it's for kids) but it's spiritual and meaningful. The rabbis explain the general idea of the holiday in a way that makes it fun and keeps their attention for the whole service. I always cry in these services. I look around and see the multi-generation families having a good time together. I always think of my paternal grandparents on this holiday. Not only because Yom Kippur is a time to remember those who are no longer with us, but I think of how much joy they would get from seeing K get into the whole thing. I know it's weird but every year on this holiday I can feel my grandparents with me, the tears are for sadness and joy and I get them every time I see K singing and dancing around knowing that they can see her too.

Every year I vow to be more involved in all things Jewish but what I really need is to be more spiritually involved. That does not require a synagogue. I spent a lot of time alone today, time spent thinking, reflecting and hoping. While I did enjoy the introspection there was something missing. Not sure if it was the location or lack of family. I felt complete when we all walked in the service even though we didn't know anyone there. Somehow I need to bring that feeling home. Sure it's great to honor the traditions of our fathers but that doesn't mean we can't start our own right?

So I'm feeling pretty good with the direction this holiday is taking me and then K and I go to the evening service down the street. When we walk in to the sanctuary we are both overcome by a feeling of peace. We found seats and K wrapped her arms and hands around me. She rubbed my back as I tickled hers, she grabbed my hand to come with her when the kids were called down, it was wonderful. We were in a room full of strangers and it still felt like home. When K saw other people cry she didn't ask why, she knew. When strangers smiled at her she smiled back, genuinely. She didn't complain that she had no friends there and she didn't make make me get a brownie for her when it was time to break the fast. She was acting like a big girl, a girl who was comfortable and proud to be where she was. Walking home she asked if she could go to synagogue again. After I brushed away the tears I said of course.

I'm not saying that we're going to run out and rejoin the synagogue but I will do my best to recreate the feeling we both got today. We are fortunate to live close to the Lake Shrine a wonderful place I took K when she was a baby. A place where all religions are represented, a place where that feeling of peace is not only mental but physical, the place is so beautiful. While I was thrilled to experience an old family tradition with my daughter today, I look forward to starting new ones and incorporating them into our lives. It will be a mix of this and a touch of that.

Mixed family? You bet. Aren't we all?

Don't look back

"Don't look back"
"Keep moving forward"
"Don't turn around"

I guess these could either be bad 80s song titles or words to live by. You all know me by now, I'm certainly not one to live in the past so this wont be a long rant about that. I was going to gush about K and how awesome she is but I did that enough this week. D and I went back to Dr. Phil this week but I'm not going write about that either, I'm actually not in the mood to rant about anything today. I'd just like to share a few things that we did over the summer. Let you know what went on while I wasn't writing. I thought I would be able to go back and fill in all the holes but that would only be to satisfy my OCD and I'm trying to not let that rule my life anymore. I'll deal with the gaps and lack of symmetry on my own time.

08/09/10
K ended up booking the "Confidential Project" I wrote about here, after a confidential callback and fitting (where I was asked to sign even more agreements making a grand total of 8 confidentiality agreements signed). At the fitting they told us what the job was but I already knew that, I guess someone didn't read their paperwork. We were excited it sounded like a fun project. Now here's the thing: I signed so many things and never got copies of any of them. I knew not to talk about it before it was filmed but I cannot for the life of me remember what I was allowed to say after. K's part was cute and honestly had nothing to do with the product. They shot at a cool house in Pasadena and of course K and I were early. She loves to follow the yellow production signs to the location. We checked in and sat with the rest of the cast: a few kids, a fake family and a little person (who we had met at the fitting). I can't remember his name but he's been in a ton of movies but pretty much kept to himself. I think I know the reason too. One of the other kids there (a dead ringer for that annoying Jerry McGuire kid kept pointing and laughing and very loudly telling everyone "that guys is FREAKING ME OUT!" K was so upset by this and repeatedly told him to stop talking like that. She explained that he was a person just like anyone else and didn't deserve to be treated badly. I was so proud of K for showing such compassion and disgusted with the mom who didn't say a word.

Once the guy left the kid settled down and sat with K as she played with her iPad, he was fascinated watching her and we were all grateful for the quiet. According to the shot list K was last so we had quite a bit of time to kill. I really need to thank D for the iPad, at first I thought it was dumb, why do we have to have every single Apple invention? Our trip to Mexico proved how valuable that giant iPhone without a camera can be. On this set it provided entertainment for some kids, was a reading buddy to K and even allowed some piano practice to get done even though we were miles away from home.

When it was time for K to go to wardrobe most of the cast was gone, it was us and the crew, just how K likes it. They dressed her in her outfit (which was a combination of her own clothing and something the stylist picked out) did little with her hair and used absolutely no makeup, the director said he wanted kids to look like kids, he even told K not to worry about getting too dirty, just have fun. Cool! When they were ready for her she went into the house and they asked me to come too, I told them that she prefers to work alone but I would stay right outside the door and watch the monitor. They were thrilled with that. She did her thing which again, I'm not sure I can talk about, then they decided she needed to be holding a list of some items she discussed in the shot. They called for the art department to get it ready, while that was being done the director had K make the list herself and that's what they used in the shot. Her shots didn't take long and soon she flew out the door saying that she got a round of applause and a bunch of high fives. We went to sign out, grab our things and find the driver to take us back to my car. K said she wanted to say goodbye to the director and that I should ask him how she did. I told my darling girl that I know she did great by the way she left the set. Didn't matter, she needed to hear it.

So off we went to find her director, he was so sweet, he was in the middle of wrapping but gave her more high fives and when K told me to ask about her performance he said that she was awesome. The pride beaming from her face was so powerful surely glaciers thousands of miles away melted from the intensity. We got to my car and suddenly realized it was way past dinnertime. Craft services on this shoot was great but we both needed a real meal and a bathroom.

Not knowing the area we stopped at the first strip mall we passed, I saw an old school Italian restaurant but that was it, I didn't think it was for us but then I saw a sign with the dress code and I know it was for us. It said:

NO GANG ATTIRE
NO TANK TOPS
NO RAIDER LOGOS

Yup, we ate there and it was awesome. Not only was the food totally reminiscent of my old New York haunts, it was run by fellow football fanatics who shared my disdain for all things Raiders. The service was great as well. K was still riding high from her great performance and she told the staff that she just got back from a commercial. They were confused until she told them she meant that she was shooting the commercial, then she became royalty. Every five minutes someone was coming by to see how we were, what we needed and told K how cool she was. They wanted to bring her a dessert but she had already spied the Baskin Robbins a few doors down. We said goodbye and got her a giant sundae. I think she was asleep by the time we hit the freeway and I was thankful she got a cover for her treat.

It was a fun day for both of us. Not the most fun thing we did this summer but certainly blog-worthy since I planned this to be about my life as stagemom. Don't worry though, there's plenty of drama-worthy situations on the horizon. D has just informed me that his mother would like to come here for a visit. Can't wait to see how that plays out.

At least for now I remain, drama-free.

Learned a lot already!

It's been such a productive week already! Got the blog up and running again. Got the kid settled in school. Got my fantasy football team in order. The best thing about this week? A lesson that was learned the hard way.

K got called for a film audition a few days ago. I was nervous about auditions during the first week of school, I haven't had a chance to have "the talk" with her teacher yet. Luckily it was scheduled for after school. The role was a lead in a horror film being shot on location in New Orleans. The character is a beautiful blond girl who is haunted by a dead man trying to help her. K would have to learn eight pages of dialogue, which she has easily done in the past.

After homework and reading we tackled the scenes. I was surprised to see that K was struggling with it. Even the first few lines which were pretty simple. She had two scenes to learn but we focused on the first which had more lines but was easier. After a while it became clear that it wasn't working. I gave her the script and let her do the reading with it in her hands for help, that was better but she was flat and uninterested. We stopped and I asked her if I should cancel. She got upset and told me she could do it. "That wasn't the point," I said, "do you even want to?" "Yes mama, I'm just not doing my best right now." she replied. That really broke my heart and I was conflicted. Again I asked if she was doing this for me because honestly she didn't have a chance in hell of getting this part, it was mainly going to be for the experience and to get in front of a new CD (casting director). She said she really wanted to try and she promised me that she would "give it everything." We tried and tried and even went on to the next scene, still she had difficulty.

At this point I started to get angry. Not so much because she couldn't remember lots of lines but she really was not giving it her best. She was fidgety which drives me nuts. I had to practically sit on her to keep still. This is an ongoing problem, not specifically related to the acting/modeling thing, she does this when she reads as well. So what happens when you don't give your best? Nothing good, I'll tell you that. Instead of trying harder she slipped into victim mode and said that she can't do this, it's too hard. I reminded her of the 10 page script we got a year and a half ago when she read for "24" not only did she memorize her lines but those of Jack Bauer's as well. She didn't get the part but did so well she earned her first two Webkinz.

This time the only thing she was earning was an impatient mother. I hated feeling this way and wasn't sure what to do. If we went and she didn't know the lines, that was fine. It happens all he time and at least she tried. If we went and she not only didn't know the lines but felt insecure about it she could take that kind of failure with her for a long time. She said she'd try again with D when he got home. That didn't really help either. I told her that I think we should just cancel, because if her heart wasn't in it her audition wouldn't be fun. She said that she didn't want to disappoint anyone but this particular audition was something she just didn't want to do. I told her that making a decision like that was a very responsible one. I emailed K's agent and told her the truth. I had planned on saying that she wasn't feeling well but then I decided that the truth would be more effective, I let her know that we had some difficulty with the script and while we usually always go to auditions we know aren't going to end up as bookings on this one we would take a pass. Normally I would feel bad or guily about this, I would worry that she won't get sent out on other movie roles, then I thought about my daughter. If it's not fun it's not worth doing. If they don't send her out, who cares?

I'm keeping the script though. In a few weeks I'll try again, just for fun to see what happens. I had been thinking about how tough this week was for me but never fully realized how it must be for K. New class, new teacher, new responsibilities at school. It's a lot for a second grader, especially for the youngest second grader in the school.

So today, instead of driving to Hollywood to do something that my little girl isn't ready to do I'm going to take her for a treat (after she does her reading, of course). She does a lot, this little girl of mine and sometimes I forget that she's just a six year old. Her abilities and personality makes her seem years older and sometimes I need reminders like this to bring me back to the mother and child role I cherish so much.

Hollywood can wait.

Childhood cannot.

Back to the grind

When I stopped working for pay a thousand years ago (I use the term "for pay" because I do work, a lot) I thought the mountains of paperwork I dreaded were a thing of the past. I knew that taking on the position of CHO (Chief Household Officer) wasn't going to be easy, the hours were long and the tiny boss yelled a lot, not mention the pay was crappy. The benefits package was killer though: lots of baby kisses, a firsthand view of all milestones and an endless supply of that sweet baby smell. The best thing was the view, there's not a corner office in the world that had a view to rival the sweet smile of my baby girl.

I didn't mind that I would never again have a conversation with a grown up or that my new office attire would always be dirty sweats. OK, that part isn't true, I did my best to avoid the sweatsuit look, I failed miserably at the keeping it clean thing. I found a look that was somewhere between pajamas and soccer mom. It worked for me.

Everything about this job had highs and lows, as expected. We had good days and bad days. We laughed and cried and cried. It was always an adventure, and the unexpected things that would pop up were dealt with and managed.

Then K started kindergarten. The amount of work required initially was nothing. Fill out some forms, show our ID and take her for some shots (which was the worst of this process). The first day was full of tears (from me) pictures (of K), hugs and words of encouragement. I was there early and happily scooped her up, eager to hear all about her very first day of elementary school. She said they colored and learned about each other. She also had a big green bag she called her "Monday Bag" which would include all the homework for the week as well as correspondence from the teacher and school. It was due every Friday. How cute, homework. I was surprised how heavy it was. When we got home I took out the stacks of paperwork and K said "Oh, yeah, YOU have homework too!!" She wasn't kidding, the amount of information needed was staggering. I got to work immediately entering all sorts of data onto the brightly colored LAUSD forms. They needed my info, D's info, K's info, emergency info, allergy info, special requirement info, you name it, they needed it. They also needed me to be aware of the policies regarding traffic safety, the playground, pesticides, photographing students, wardrobe restrictions (no Crocs, flip flops, and belly shirts) and meals. They wanted to know what I expected from the school, the strengths and weaknesses of my child, her special talents and likes and what language she spoke at home. There was even a form to fill out saying that I filled out all the forms. Nope, not kidding on that one.

I so badly wanted to reply in typical me fashion: "I expect the school to teach her things, she's great at everything and bad at eating vegetables, she has a talent for being awesome, likes puppies and at home we like to speak Latin. Of course I didn't write that, although I should have, I highly doubt this crap is ever seen again. I took the rest of the day and filled out every single thing. I returned it the next day even though we had until the end of the week. Just like K, I didn't want to disappoint our new teacher.

When K started first grade last year I was surprised to receive an ever larger stack of forms to fill out. All the ones from last year plus a few more. The only thing that needed changing was my email address and cell phone number. Not because it changed but because it was listed wrong in the school contact book (even though I filled out about a dozen forms to change this proving that no one reads this crap, again). So once again I spent the first day of school under a mountain of paperwork vowing to bring this up and one of the million meetings the school liked to have. The first few weeks of school were now for complaining about the paperwork we all had. It was the one agenda in which all parents stood in agreement.

Cut to:

Monday. I send my darling K off to school with a brand new empty backpack, I retrieve my still darling daughter with a backpack so heavy she can barely lift it. My head suddenly becomes full of hopes that inside this adorable heart covered backpack are items that K will need for the year, like bricks and heavy rocks. Nope. It's those damn forms again with a note kindly asking to return as soon as possible. There's also a folder from K's new teacher full of what I'm honestly hoping is homework for her. Some of it is her weekly homework but most of it is more paperwork for me. This teacher has been at our school for years and is known to be tough but amazing, her students, upon completing second grade are not only fully prepared for the next year they could easily go right to fourth grade. She has her way teaching and it's worked for years. I was happy and scared at the same time and filled out her paperwork first. She explained how she does things and what will happen during the school year. She directed us to her website which will have homework, class assignments and projects. For the first time in years I felt like I had started a new job. I also made sure K got right to work on her homework. Side by side we did our work together. Later that night I attacked the usual LAUSD forms (with even more added for my pleasure) I filled out the form that said I filled out the forms. What I didn't have was the school contact book form. It wasn't needed for second grade families because they already had that information. Again, it was the only thing that needed changing because it was still wrong.

Yesterday K brought everything needed back to school in her heavy backpack. At pickup the conversation was mainly about the stupid paperwork. I looked around and listened, every single parent was talking about it. Then it hit me, this was LAUSD's version of a stun gun. There was no way a parent could complain about their kid's teacher, class size or room assignment while they were still walking around with "Paperwork Shock." It's a brilliant strategy because the paperwork is due on or around the same time class assignments can be changed (even though they are NEVER changed).

It all makes sense to me now, how did I not see this a few years ago? Oh yeah, my kid was starting school and I had other things to worry about. Hmmmmmm, think about it: Confuse parents with weapons of mass distraction. They got me for almost three years!! Now that I'm armed with this information I'm going to look at things differently today at pick-up. I'll keep you posted.

Shock and Awe indeed.