Mothering Heights

Good morning, Students. Please take out a sheet of paper for an essay exercise titled 'What I did this summer.' As for the moms sitting in the back row-- those of you who followed the school bus here--you too can sharpen your pencil and answer 'What I learned this summer?'

Since I am already here wondering what to do next as I watch my baby girl start first grade, I might as well follow directions. Not that I even remember how to write after my extended summer vacation. Topic sentence? Supporting details? They all sound like names for fabulous drinks with rum and an umbrella, but best we not get started on my summer cocktail obsessions.

My summer was certainly filled with adventures of rattlesnakes and weddings, but one important lesson stays in the forefront of my mind: Never go to Costco after an earthquake. There's nothing like a shake, rattle and roll to get the smell of fear rustling through one's psyche and wallet. After sitting through the recent tremors at the car mechanic, I moved on to my next errand, Costco.

Feeling slightly panicked, I filled my cart so high with food and supplies that I could barely see over the top. I was not alone. By the time I checked out, the warehouse was filled with frantic shoppers. We probably didn't need those five cartons of blueberries (a noted superfood), 66 rolls of toilet paper, and a case of Band-aids but I did feel smugly safe and true to my Girl Scout 'be prepared' roots.

When I wasn't sorting dry goods or cooking vegetable abundance, I had another breakthrough: I can still read something larger than a magazine. Shocking, I know. I thought that my eyes could no longer read fine print because my brain couldn't process anything longer than a news story about Angelina Jolie and her 16 children, but I was misinformed. My brain was simply overly wired.

I must give full credit for this momentous literary breakthrough to my husband who basically threatened to hide my laptop computer. The thought of not knowing where my little white box was made me realize my dependence on the wired world. I hopped offline for several weeks and was able to read more than one book with a page count over 30.

After spending some time disconnected, I also realized that email and Facebook communications can change relationships from clear to cloudy. It's just too easy to send that snappy email or snippy reply that ends up being taken the wrong way. Offline, I went back to using the phone and face-to-face communication. The only problem is that, Hello, one has to return phone calls to actually exchange information, something I rarely managed to do.

I would like to conclude my summer essay with a nod to you, dear Teacher. How you manage to answer all those questions such as 'how does radar work?' or 'where do dolphins sleep?' is beyond me. 'Ask your father,' obviously wouldn't fly in the classroom. I am in awe of you and all that you do--your activities, organization and ability to not scream 'Shoot me now' after the 15th request to feed the pet turtle its turtle treat.

As school begins, I gladly pass the baton to you. I obviously need to go home, stare at the ceiling and re-read "The Elements of Style." Perhaps I can crack open what I really need to learn-- how to be a Mom with out a mission or a modem.

Christine's new book, The Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood, is available at Laguna Beach Books and Latitude 33. Her link can also be found online at www.lbindy.com