Posts Filed Under Circle Time!

circle time!

by renegademama

Happy Good Friday!

I have no idea what that means except that it’s the Friday before Easter. And something about meat. or fish. And Jesus.

Circle Time Rules

ANYWAY, let’s move on. Usually we have Circle Time! on Saturdays, but I’m livin’ on the edge and doing it on Friday. I used to do this weekly, but now I only do it when I have something fabulous to “share” — such as this song, “Lonely Boy,” by The Black Keys – and the fact that my baby girl is finally herself again.

Let’s all take a moment of silence in appreciation of strong-ass antibiotics and doctors who give a shit.

So, if you can watch this video without experiencing a profound improvement in your mood, then, well, I don’t know. But I’m not worried because I don’t think it’s possible.

I love this band, this song and THIS FUCKING GUY. He is a boss. I want to know him.

Watch, enjoy.

xo

 

3 Comments | Posted in Circle Time! | April 6, 2012

Circle Time!

by renegademama

So I know we haven’t had a Circle Time Saturday in oh, I don’t know, forever, but I’m inconsistent and unreliable and that’s pretty much all there is to say about that. Anyway, I had to share this song with you all because it is, apparently, a miracle song. And it’s Circle Time, and that’s what we do at Circle Time: share. But don’t forget the rules:

Circle Time Rules

Anyway, many moons ago, when Georgia was just a few months old, she was screaming in the carseat. Not new. What was new, though, was the song that came on my Ipod. It was “Perfect Timing” by the Drive-By Truckers. Almost as soon as it started, the baby stopped crying. She just stopped.

When it was over, she cried again. So obviously we replayed it twenty-seven times and deemed it her “favorite” song. The next time she cried, the kids started wailing to put on her “favorite song,” and I did, and it worked. To this day, I tell you, this song pretty much always soothes her. We hear it a lot. Occasionally she’s pissed enough that no amount of the alt-country-miracle-song can please her, but most of the time, this song works. It’s actually a little weird. Thank God it’s a damn good song.

Okay now you share: do your kids dig any music? Do you dig any music? Come on people, share. SHARE damnit SHARE. It’s Circle Time. Everybody at Circle Time SHARES!!! If you don’t share you’re never getting invited back to the circle and everybody will hate you. (You see. This is why I’m not a kindergarten teacher.)

35 Comments | Posted in Circle Time! | September 17, 2011

Deep bonding moments…or something

by renegademama

 

I wish I could do deep meaningful shit with my kids all the time. I do. I wish that.

But I can’t.

I wish when we spent special time together it was to knit and garden, sew pants out of upcycled wool, build things out of repurposed tires, visit abstract art museums. Paint, dance, frolic.

But I can’t.

I mean I CAN. Physically, I can.

But I can’t. Mentally. Ya feel me here?

Sometimes, I just need to pay money and do something easy with the kid – a guaranteed win. An outing that’s an “in the bag” kid pleaser with very little work on my part.

You know, like going to the movie theater to watch Transformers with your 5-year-old son, after purchasing on his behalf a large, buttered popcorn, one Sprite, one package of regular M&Ms and one package of Sour Patch Kids.

So it’s a PG-13 movie.

So it cost $40.00 we really didn’t have.

So he ate enough preservatives, sugar, additives and chemicals of unknown origin to destroy a few million brain cells.

So we didn’t really talk. Or learn anything of any use AT ALL (except, perhaps, that hot women can run full speed through a burning Chicago, dodging falling buildings and Decepticons, while wearing 3-inch spiked heels! Okay, seriously people, I gotta write a blog post about the way women are depicted in those damn action films. I’m vomiting a little just thinking about it.).

So it wasn’t deep or profound or particularly meaningful.

And I felt a little guilty that our special date together – our just he & I time – was a few hours sitting in a theater, watching large metal machines beat the shit out of each other and long-haired women with big lips dodge bullets and squeal.

But there was no preparation. No thought. No arguments. No cajoling. No disappointment when the child in question gets distracted after 10 minutes – more interested in gluing his finger to the table than furthering the objective of the well-thought-out, Waldorf-life craft project.

So it was perfect.

And halfway through the movie he crawled on my lap. And he sat on my lap the whole time. And I smelled his head and kissed his cheek and rubbed his bony little arms. And I watched him laugh when they laughed and get nervous during the fight scenes because you never know – this could be the first time the good guy loses…

And in the car we talked about who’s better: Optimus Prime or Bumblebee, and he reenacted the fight scenes and I realized I finally know the Transformers’ names like his daddy does, and he finally got an hour of uninterrupted mom-lap time.

And I gotta say, the whole thing blew wool-felting right outta the fucking water.

Well, yes. It was a really crap movie. Like bad.

Circle Time! quiz (like a Cosmo quiz, only not)

by renegademama

Howdy! Check it out…it’s Circle Time Saturday on Thursday! Shocking, appalling, weird!

Right. Yes. I know. Nobody gives a shit. Including me. That’s because we rage against the machine. We defy rules. Don’t bind us with your chains and force us into little boxes! We defy THE MAN! (I don’t know why I say things like that. I really like to, though.)

In other words, Circle Time! hasn’t happened in a long time because it was annoying and boring me…(not unlike most of my life)…and it occurred to me that what we really need to do with Circle Time! is get to know one another. We need to SHARE. You know, like in preschool. Sharing time. Happy singing rainbow time.

Sooo….I decided we could get to know each other by doing a little quiz. A sort of get-to-know-you quiz. Kind of like a Cosmo quiz, only not about sex, sexiness, sex-appeal, sex positions, sexual interest, sexual derision, sexual dysfunction and/or sexual satisfaction. But RATHER, a good, wholesome, renegade mothering quiz to help you decide whether or not you are in fact domestically impaired. I know. I’m helpful. You can thank me later. So…let’s do it. First, click on the blue button below, take the quiz, then return here for results… (also, on Sunday, I’ll tell y’all how many of us fit where)…it’s all very exciting.

Are you domestically impaired? Find out NOW!

RESULTS:

  1. If you answered mainly the first option, you are not domestically impaired. In fact, you are a domestic goddess. You probably wonder what the hell is wrong with me. If I went to your house, I would probably sit paralyzed in admiration, dumb-founded and amazed at the pure organization and cleanliness. Awesome.
  2. If you mainly chose the second option, you are not a domestic goddess but you certainly are NOT impaired. You put some mothers, like me for example, to shame. There is a semblance of order and consistency in your home. You’re damn good as far as I can tell.
  3. If you answered mainly the 3rd options or answered YES to ANY of the questions on #10, you are definitely impaired domestically. You pretty much suck. Your house is rarely presentable and never fully clean. You are most likely my soulmate and will live quite comfortably around these parts.
  4. If you mainly chose the 4th options, you have actually set a new low in terms of domestic impairment. You might want to consider donating your children to the Goodwill and moving back in with your mom. I also suggest not admitting these things to pretty much anybody, ever. I, of course, would never do any of those things. Ever. Right. No. Never. Ever ever ever.

What I learned this week…(and Circle Time Saturday – special Sunday edition)

by renegademama

1.       For awhile I was writing a “wtf? Wednesday” post and a “circle time! Saturday” post each week. For various uninteresting reasons, mostly pertaining to my inability to plan and general disdain for structure, this isn’t working for me. I’m going to try writing them in alternating weeks (a Wednesday post one week, then a Saturday, then a Wed., etc.).  Roll with me, I’m new at this.

2.       Turns out I am not going to die from this cold. Who knew.

3.       Also turns out it is possible to have a mosh pit at the concert of a band with a stand-up bass, a fiddle and NO DRUMS.

4.       I hate 18-year-old males, on account of #3.

5.       A large, bearded, pissed-off ironworker is a really quite an intimidating thing. After last night, I am even more delighted than usual that my husband is not a wife-beater. Cause that dude is s.c.a.r.y.  While at a concert last night, some fucktard asshat (oh yeah, he got both) decided to pour his entire beer down Mac’s chest, for no reason. On purpose. The look on Mac’s face – his eyes, his posture – as he hunted this guy down (who had, incidentally, walked off to get another beer) was something like the psycho in Silence of the Lambs mixed with Ed Norton in Fight Club. I thought he might actually kill him. Much to my surprise, though, he went up to the bar where the fuckhead was standing and said to the bartender “don’t let this dirty prick buy another beer. He just poured his last one me.” He had a few choice words with the drunk idiot and in a moment of sweet lovely [rare] justice, the bartender looked at the asshole and said “yeah. You’re cut off. Get the fuck outta here.” And the bouncer kicked him out. Of the entire venue. It was fucking awesome, though we did have to buy Mac another shirt. On the way out to the car, Mac said “it was all I could do not to head-butt that guy.” And I was glad he has that kind of self-restraint, because I KNOW I’ve done much more annoying things than pour beer down his shirt. And I’m pretty sure I do it almost weekly.

Yeah. this sweet face is NOT what was happening last night.

6.       As a result of our concert experiences this weekend (we saw the Devil Makes Three on Friday and Saturday nights), I’m inspired to write two new blog posts. One will be called “What I would write on a bathroom stall were I the type of jackass who writes on bathroom stalls” and “Ode to The Dancers: you know who you are.” Those should be fun.

7.       Like an angry unforgiving pit-bull, I fought the insurance companies (who suddenly and randomly decided they wouldn’t cover Georgia’s home birth)– and this week I found out that I WON. They say winning isn’t everything, but damn it feels good sometimes.

8.       Take that, you lying corporate pricks.

9.       Rocket makes up some of the coolest words I’ve ever heard. Two of his recent ones are: 1. “charge-a-pult” which is when you charge into somebody as hard as you can from across the room (a clever mix of “charging” and “catapulting”); and 2. “karate-mop”, which is when you karate chop somebody with a mop handle.

10.   I love my kids so much it hurts sometimes.

11.   Happy Mother’s Day, friends.

[Milk it for all it’s worth. Cause tomorrow you’ll be back to “family bitch” status. (oh my god that was SO WRONG.). ]

…And for our Saturday circle time! special Sunday edition…here’s a beautiful tune from Chuck Ragan, written for his mother, “Geraldine.”

7 Comments | Posted in Circle Time!, weeks of mayhem | May 8, 2011