Six months ago, I held on to Mr. MG and cried. He kissed me, kissed both the kids, and headed down the pier with his gigantic duffel bag. And then we drove away. And then I parked and cried some more.

(Oh, didn’t I tell you? He’s been deployed all this time. Okay, I know I didn’t tell you. It is the internet, after all.)

While he was gone the Bear had a birthday, I had horrible morning sickness and a stomach bug, and the Princess had a busy summer. We three read books, shopped the farmer’s market, and watched my midsection expand. Mostly I just crawled around, waiting to be not so tired, and eating salmon burgers whenever I was vertical.

While he was away, Mr. MG helped villagers in foreign countries rebuild their typhoon-wrecked homes, studied, spent a lot of time in parts of the ship that get no sunlight, ate really disgusting food on board, ate really weird food in Hong Kong (some of which he still can’t identify), held koala bears in Australia, made Sailor of the Year, and earned his promotion to Chief Petty Officer. He was a very busy man. And we are so proud.

(He says, despite the fact that they live exclusively on eucalyptus leaves, koala bears are very stinky creatures. Huh.)

It’s always hard to wait for the ship to pull in. You see it on the horizon, and it takes what feels like an eternity until they cast the lines and put down the brow. And on the pier it is a bit like a rock concert or mob scene, with all the spouses vying for a place in front so we can see our guy. And mine was one of the first ones off; out of five homecomings, this was the third time I got him ashore right away.

It was so wonderful to get him back. And to welcome him home, we took him out for a big hunk of cow for supper.

And I ate cheesecake. Can you say happy mama?

Oh, good grief. Sometimes human beings are so inexplicably brainless.

Talking Veggies Stir Controversy at NBC

Okay, I can handle that there are people out there who think that “Las Vegas” and “Medium” are quality shows worth tuning in for. I will grit my teeth and accept that someone actually greenlit “Passions.”

But when a network signs a deal to have a religious kids’ show on their Saturday morning line up, then wants all references to God cut out… Well, I give up.

Maine Parents Charged With Kidnapping Pregnant Daughter

A Maine couple, infuriated that their 19-year-old daughter was pregnant, were being held Monday on charges that they tied her up, loaded her in their car and headed toward New York to force her to get an abortion, police said.

Instead of trying to work things out like sane human beings, they tie up their daughter’s hands and feet and haul her off to New York to make her have an abortion. What doctor did they think would go along with performing this brutal procedure with on someone who was hysterically, adamantly against it?

Her parents were upset that she had gotten pregnant by someone who is now in jail. If the courts give that girl any justice at all, that’s just where they’ll be headed.

The day I was dreading has come and gone. I survived my first day back at co-op. I have felt today coming since early August, and it is such a huge relief to get it over with.

This is my third semester teaching, and my second teaching art. But it never gets easier for me. The sick, panicky, doomed feeling that makes me ill the entire day before I go in never goes away. Every week it’s like this, but the first week of the session is always the very worst. Last night I thought that anything, anything would be better than walking into class today. Dentistry without the gas and novocaine would be a very pleasant alternative.

I know I’m being pretty foolish. Art (specifically ceramics) is what I went to school for. But loving art and teaching art are two totally different things. After all, the beauty of working in fine art is not having to deal with people. If I wanted a challenging job that deals with people, I would be a realtor or a sprocket salesperson or a zoo tour guide.

But I love my Princess, and she loves co-op, and so I must teach.

The hardest thing was facing my second period class – the nine to twelve year olds. I’ve never taught that age group before. The Princess is only seven, so that older territory is very foreign to me. And, let’s face it, pre-teens can be a tricky bunch.

What exactly am I afraid of? What is so scary about a room full of kiddos, that I would be in a nervous sweat for weeks beforehand? I don’t know. Maybe they’ll go berserk and I won’t be able to maintain control of the room. Maybe they’ll all be bored to death with what I’m saying. Maybe I’m not cool enough to teach them anything. A million things could go wrong, and all I can do is hope God will prop me up long enough to live through it.

Well, today He did. And it turned out to be kind of fun. And wouldn’t you know it, the older kids were the ones I enjoyed the most. They were funny, and got really involved. It was a genuinely good time.

So tonight is a good night. I lived through the first day back and actually enjoyed it a little. But tonight is a good night for another reason…

Because it will be a whole week until I have to do it again.

Good gravy, where was I? Oh, yes…No time to read brooding English novelists.

My typing finger didn’t fall off, I just simply lost track of the calendar. I was so busy having my very own freak out that I didn’t post. Sorry about that.