Archive for August 27th, 2009

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Today is St. Monica Day

August 27, 2009

I once worked with a woman who believed the lyrics to Sheryl Crow’s song went, “All I want to do is Hooked on Phonics until the sun comes up over Santa Monica Boulevard.” Listen to the song. It really does sound like that. I’ve sung Hooked on Phonics ever since, in homage to Jennifer.

Besides having a street in L.A. named after her, St. Monica is famous for being the mother of St. Augustine. She prayed her adult son out of a life of loose morals. That’s comforting for all we mothers of sons. Augustine later became one of the great thinkers in the history of Western thought, and his Confessions are on my short list of things to read.

I read my e-mail right after waking up this morning, and several people in my reading group (I belong to a reading group, BTW) are on a riff about Tristram Shandy. That’s a novel with which I confess to having no familiarity. Apparently it was the forerunner to modern comic novels and the author, Sterne, references Swift, Pope, Rabelais, Locke, and Cervantes. I only read Swift in college.

I did, however, drink at a bar called Cervantes in Salamanca, Spain while studying abroad. I guess you could say I used to like a good beer buzz early in the morning.

Ha.

The rest are – again – on my short list. Which is not so short, now that I think on it.

So back to my brain workout of the day, Plato.

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I’m slogging carefully working through Book 5 of the Republic. There are 10 books, FYI. The line at 461b stood out to me: “This child is born, rather, under cover of darkness in the company of terrible incontinence.”

Having two children, I’m familiar with the company of terrible incontinence.

But I’m pretty sure that’s not what Plato meant. In context, the line means that children born in the perfect City he (Socrates) is envisioning must be born in a state-sanctioned marriage, otherwise the child will be cast out of the City.

Exiling kids. Hmph.

To his credit, however, Socrates does state a few lines earlier that a woman stays in her prime “up to her fortieth” year. So in ancient Greece I haven’t peaked yet.

Posted in Brain Workouts | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments »

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And so it begins

August 27, 2009

Now that the kids are in school I’ve resolved to get my flabby body in shape along with my flabby brain. I dressed to go to the gym this morning instead of putting on my suburban mom uniform (solid-colored t-shirt with khaki or denim Capri pants). I know that if I’m not properly dressed for working out when I leave the house in the morning, the chances of actually making it to the gym that day are miniscule.

Ordinarily I don’t wear make-up when going to work out. Now that I’m hitting the gym directly after dropping the kids off at school, however, I feel compelled to make myself less repellant. Why?

It’s the women. I talk to at least half a dozen of them every time I’m near the school, and there’s an undying part of me that doesn’t want to look like a slob around my peers.

I can trace it back to summer camp. It’s 1985, and I’m at an all-girls’ camp. You would think the absence of boys would mean the morning toilette for the girls would be brief.

You would be wrong.

Every morning was a jostle in front of the mirrors. Every morning our counselor Suzy would rise before the rest of us to heat her curling iron and painstakingly curl under her silky brown locks.

And every morning she missed one little section in the back. No one ever told her. I waited all summer to see if she’d make it a day without missing that section. She never did.

So back to this morning. Below, observe the outfit I was wearing:

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As you see, I am not one of those suburban cougar-types all beautiful in their yoga outfits and perfectly coiffed hair. The look I’m going for is more of a Hey-World-I’m-About-to-Work-Out-So-Forgive-My-Sloppiness look. With a little make-up thrown in for good measure. And the chocolate? That’s real. I accidentally got some on my drawing.

My darling, precious five-year-old angel hereafter referred to as TG (for The Girl) took one look at me in my ensemble and said, “Mom,” in her sweetest little voice, one that says I love you so much and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, BUT…

“Mom, why are you wearing those clothes?”

“I’m going to the gym after I drop you off.”

“But those are your running clothes.”

“I know. I’m going to run at the gym.”

“But mom, you’re not going to be running at school.”

There you have it. Three days into Kindergarten, and she’s already ashamed of me.

Posted in The Kids | 1 Comment »

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