Archive for May, 2008

When asked how he felt about what happened, he said: “I was sad.”

If you haven’t seen this news report yet, please click this link:,2933,358956,00.html 

and read about the little 5-year-old boy with Asperger’s Syndrome whose kindergarten teacher humiliated him by asking his classmates to state reasons why no one liked him and then held a vote, Survivor-style, on whether or not to let him remain in the class.

I’d rant and rave about this, but, really…do I have to? Aren’t you already ranting and raving along with me? Aren’t we all screaming the same exact things in our hearts at the exact same moments?

When asked how he felt about it, he said: I was sad.

That one little statement rips me up the most somehow. His response to what happened to him is so muted, yet also healthy. He seems to have a better grasp on emotional states than his teacher, if you ask me.

The school district and its many officials and administrators are practically falling over each other to assure the general public that the situation has been handled. That the teacher has been removed from the classroom. That everything is fine. That we should all look…over…THERE…now. Pay no attention to the fuck-up behind the curtain. It’s no one’s business anyhow. And hey, that kid shouldn’t have been eating his homework anyway. Plus, let’s face it, that humming really was distracting. Oh hell. The kid probably had it coming. Besides, Survivor  ROCKS! Don’t you just love Survivor?  Totally awesome.

And I’m sure that teacher will be back in the classroom before too much time. She is tenured, after all. A little slap on the wrist. A little R&R to get a break from all those….CHILDREN…. That’s all she needs. Or maybe they’ll transfer her. She might even end up in your kid’s classroom next year. Lucky you.

As for the kid, oh well. He’ll be fine, right? Kids bounce back, right? They’re so…resilient. Right?

Uh, no.

Part of that kid has been destroyed. By one stupid, vapid teacher.

Destroyed. Forever.

Yeah…. We homeschool. Any questions?



In defense of east coast sunsets.

Yes, yes, yes… sunsets in the mountains are quite spectacular. There’s no denying it. But here’s what the sky looked like in my new hometown last night:

It ain’t the mountains of Colorado, but it’s still quite nice.

Scenes from the Baca Grande.

Here’s a few shots of what it looks like up in the Baca Grande country, for those of you who are wondering.

Here’s a picture of the dormitory:

Here’s a shot of one of the peaks that surround the little valley:

This year, for the first time ever, we had a large herd of elk move through. We saw them every evening when we went out walking, but they were quite shy, so getting in close enough for good pictures was really difficult. Here they are from a distance:

The usual Baca routine goes something like: Wake up. Have coffee. Write a little before anyone wakes up. When they do wake up, make more coffee. Drink more coffee with friends. Have a little breakfast. Then, get dressed. Write some more. Go for a walk. Have some lunch. Write all afternoon. Then have dinner with everyone. After dinner, go for a walk to watch the sunset.

Here’s what the sunsets generally look like all the time:

You can see why we always like to go walking around this time of evening.

After the evening walk, we’d all go back inside and listen to the coyotes wail for a while. We’d make tea or pour wine, and talk and talk and talk. And then we’d all go to bed and get up in the morning and do it all over again.

Hmmm…. I’m sort of already looking forward to next year. Can you blame me?

There’s no place like home…except for that other place that’s like home, that is.

Well, hello again.

I see, according to my stats, that many of you came looking here yesterday to see if I’d posted. Many apologies for the delay. We spent all day travelling yesterday, and it went fine, except for the fact that my 5-year-old left her Leapster L-Max on the plane, and we didn’t realize it until we were almost home. (sigh)

After a long day of travel, we ordered pizza and got everyone to bed. Then, today, it was all about bathing the girls, doing laundry and shopping for groceries. It has also been all about listening to our old cat complain ceaslessly about how absolutely BORING it was here all week without us around to let her in and out every 45 seconds. She’s outside right now, but any minute she’ll be scratching at the door to be let back in, because cats honestly believe that that’s what humans were put on earth for: to open things for them. Like doors. And cans of tuna. And pretty soon, a big giant can of Whoop-Ass if she doesn’t KNOCK IT OFF ALREADY.

Anyway. The trip was fabulous. Of course. Five glorious days in which I sat around, eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, writing, gabbing with my girlfriends, walking, sleeping. And yes, I got a massage, but not from that nice young man. One of the participants this year was a woman who recently got her CMT license, and she brought her table and set up in the library on Saturday. IT WAS JUST AS GOOD.

It was still wintery there this year. Most of the time, it looked like this:














Wintery, but nice. Yes?

I spent a lot of time feeling a little homesick. Looking at the mountains, and the wide open spaces, and the way you can just SEE for miles and miles, I just LONGED to move back.

But then, when we got back home yesterday, the most interesting thing happened. It felt like home. Even though the trees grow tall and close in, like this:

This felt like home. This, and the way that the sun doesn’t bake you to a crisp when you’re outside. The way the breeze has a little bit of watery weight to it, and how everything smells so lush. This also was home for me. And I was glad. Because really…how lucky am I, to feel at home in two such different places?

I’d write more and more on this, but let’s face it: I’m home. And there’s things to deal with. Like the fact that during the time it took me to type this up, the girls had some sort of argument that resulted in my 5-year-old slamming her door hard enough to make the smoke detector above it go off. So, in between paragraphs I’ve been getting up and dealing with the EXTREMELY LOUD BEEPING SOUNDS and handing out a few stern lectures about door-slamming. And finally, I had to take the dectector off the wall and remove the battery just to have some peace and quiet. And now, rest time is over. It’s time for a snack and a favorite TV show before swimming lessons. Then I’ve got to rush around getting a late dinner on the table.

Yep…. We’re definitely home.




You know why I love May, don’t you? It’s not the new flowers, the warmth, the return of the birds, the days spent playing hooky at the park. It’s not that first outdoor barbeque in your new house, where you sit with your little family eating food that RegularDad cooked on the grill and just enjoying the spring air. It’s not the slow, steady end of the various activities the kids are into, promising more lazy days ahead when I won’t be as much of an on-call chauffeur. I mean, all that stuff is great and all, don’t get me wrong. But none of that is why I love May.

I love May because that’s the month I take my vacation. As in: MY vacation. Me. All by myself. Except for my poetry-writing girlfriends. And who knows? Maybe that nice young man from in-town will show up and give us all massages again. (Note to self: Pack extra cash just in case.)

Tomorrow we fly back to Colorado. RegularDad and the kids will stay with Grandma while I head down to the Sangre de Cristos to spend a few days just Taking Care Of Me. There’s no Internet where I’m going. And cell phones don’t work all that great. And sometimes the coyotes come in close when darkness falls and sing us a little something. But the food is fabulous, and the company is even better: women who write poetry by day and talk deep into the night.

That’s where I’ll be for a while.

See you in a week.

A mother’s day gift.

Hope your kids got it together to give you something wonderful today.


It’s a household name.

Your Slogan Should Be

Once you go RegularMom, you’ll never go back.

About RegularMom

I don't have time to write this blog. You don't have time to read this blog. Let's do it anyway.

Email me:
regular_mom at yahoo dot com

Fair Warning:


Home of the…

Proud recipient of…

The Legalaties

All images and written text on this blog is copyright ©2007-2014 RegularMom.

This means that all the stuff written on this blog is, like, MY stuff. As in: Not YOUR stuff. Don't take my stuff without asking, okay? It's rude.


%d bloggers like this: