Zen Mom

I took one of those on line surveys this morning after I dropped the little darlings off at school. It turns out I am a "Zen Mom". Whatever. I live here, and I am pretty sure there is little in the way of "Zen" going on here....unless you count "Zending them to their rooms". There were some interesting questions with interesting response choices... What do you do to unwind? One of the choices was " Shopping Spree/Retail Therapy". I guess that shopping is a form of therapy. Hey, the clerk has to listen to you while you are paying, right. Beats tradional therapy by a mile I guess. Sure, there are people who spend countless dollars and countless hours paying someone professional to listen to their problems. In my experience, those folks never get better, they just get poorer, and become dependent on their "therapist". My therapist is at the local cigar shop. He listens to me recount the horrors of my life while I support the hardworking folks in Central America who hand craft the products I sacrifice in small ritual fires. It is cheaper, it feels better, and the smoke keeps the truly annoying away. What more could I ask for? I golf occasionally ( I shot a 143 last outing with my buddy Chris, who did a whole lot of the framing work on the addition while I got bandaids for my various self inflicted injuries), but that takes a lot of time, and time is something in short supply in my life. Besides, in reality, golf is a drug-it has been described as "Crack" for the upper middle class. It's not a sport- it's an activity. Anything that you can do AND smoke and drink while riding in a cart is not a sport. And don't tell me that it is because you are sore the next day. The golf swing is a modified stretching exercise used as preperation for real sports. I am not big on it, but I do get a kick out of playing. It's always a surprise to look up and see where the ball went. For sport I practice Haganah ( Krav Maga, Hisardut, and Gracie style Jui Jitsu) because it feels good to beat up on a sparring partner; and the Catholic in me is very accepting of the punishment that gets inflicted on me.....

Back to the Zen mom thing....Joe had to sleep in our bed last night, because his brother, who he is currently bunking with because his room is not yet finished, has a cold. While cleaning up the mess that follows him everywhere, I found his pants. The pants Mary set out for him. I didn't check to see if he had pants on when I dropped him off- I know, I know, by now I should check everything all the time- because, well, I just assumed he had them on. It's a basic thing, right? Anyway, I am trying to decide if I want to call the school and have them check, or just let it go. If he doesn't have them on, then I am pretty sure the school will call, because he also has a habit of going commando.....see my dilemma? I haven't checked the student handbook, but I am pretty sure that undies are a requirement. They have a thick enough file on us already. I think I'll just do the Zen thing and let it go.