There are a lot of blogs out there in cyberspace. Frankly, I never really understood people's need to share their vast knowledge about things....wine, food, sex, money. (I don't know why those things popped into my head first.) For instance, google "wine blogs" and you will find 24,700,000 in .14 seconds! That many blogs about wine? Really????? Safe to say that I probably have nothing else to enlighten you with respect to wine. And don't get me started on food, sex, and money...

I am not a writer so why try my hand at blogging? Well...why not? Bloggers are cool...I think. I mean, who writes on paper anymore? Why try to get a magazine interested in your musings about everyday life when you can have instant fame through the power of the internet? That would require way too much work...and we live in the age of instant gratification. Think...write....post!

So now I must write about what I know. That poses many limitations on this blogging adventure. I will have to make the mundane seem interesting enough to make you want to return. Who would want to read about a forty-something's account of her everday life with her family? I know...this could be boring.

Well, let's start with my job. Four days a week, I am a dental receptionist. It's a pretty good gig....I like my co-workers. Most of the women I work with are moms. They understand me...and I think every mom who has had their teenager (and tween) roll their eyes at them appreciates having some allies. For 36 hours a week, I pretend that I am a competent dental professional. I dress in nice clothes and drink coffee and eat salads with other grownups. We talk about healthy meals, spa treatments, shoes, exercise (or lack thereof), and great movies. Sometimes, we even talk about current events...until someone brings up shopping. It's my happy place...the land of adult conversation.

At my desk, I deal with insurance companies so patients don't have to. I try my best to make the dental experience a pleasant one. Everyone hates coming to the dentist...they all have a story about a childhood experience from the pages of "Dentists from Hell" (not a real book). I know this because patients are always willing to share this piece of information with our staff. They tell me when I answer the phone, when they check in for their appointment, when they sit in the chair and when they pay the bill. (And just so you know, I've heard this one too many times ---"Now for the painful part...." when they reach for their wallet.) But I listen to them all...I don't mind. The dentist has the tough job. I mean, who would want to be the dentist? It takes a brave person to put their hands in the mouth that might bite back. Luckily, I work for a guy with a sense of humour. He keeps them laughing without the gas...

I am also a wife and mother...which really are tied for role #1 if we are categorizing by level of importance. My husband (Brad) and I have been married 21+ years. I am still not completely sure what his job is...but it has something to do with computers. He is extremely good at what he does...I know this because we live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where people can afford more than the 1.4 children that Canada census says is the average. Brad is the voice of reason in this relationship. I am the emotional one. Together, we are indestructible when it comes to parenting. We are the proud parents of three girls...Emily (17), Rachel (14) and Colleen (9). We always knew that we wanted kids...I'm just not convinced that we got the right ones. (Ba-
dum-dum.) It is not an easy job...they are a challenge. But we are stronger than they are...as long as we stick together. If one of us bails, the kids will win. And we are both too stubborn to allow that to happen.

I can't give too much away about the kids just yet. Their everday antics will be the main source of my musings and hopefully your entertainment. And I can't forget the dog. She definitely will contribute to the blogging experience. Her name is Maggie and she is motivated by food and belly rubs. (You could say the same about a lot of people.)

Well...maybe one story.

Today was another typical day in my life. Our oldest daughter is in Grade 11 and today was day 2 of second semester. Yesterday, she was not happy about her C block options. She started out in "Film and Editing". She stayed in class for 10 minutes and decided in was full of 'pot-heads". She went to her guidance counselor and was sent to "Intro Spanish". She doesn't plan to travel to Spain so she went to another counselor and was given the option to take "Phys. Ed. Leadership" (is that a course?). She's an active kid...runs half-marathons...so she was okay with this and came home happy.

She returned to school today and was told she could not take "Phys. Ed. Leadership" because she was not in Grade 12. The only option left was "Food Sciences" - aka -cooking. (To appreciate how funny this is, you should know that when Emily wanted a fresh baked cookie in a hurry, she took Pillsbury cookie dough and put it in the microwave for 2 minutes. DON'T try this.) Dissatisfied with this course, she went to the principal. I have to admire her...at 5'2", that kid has moxie...she goes straight to the top.

Late this afternoon, I got a phone call from the principal. She admires the kid's spunk, too. She wants to let me know Emily will be taking Grade 12 Academic Math during C-block. Great! Why was this course not an option from the beginning??? I mean, my kid's smart...she wants to go to one of the most expensive universities in Canada. She has big plans to make a name for herself in forensic sciences...she's the next "Dexter" - minus the serial killer part.

So what's the catch? The principal was impressed with her ambition (or worn down by her persistence) so she decided to allow Emily to teach herself Grade 12 Academic Math. Huh? That's an option? She can do that? I am not crazy about this. The principal assures me that other students have done this to get the credits they want. And if she needs help, we can hire a tutor because the math teachers will only provide help to the students that were lucky enough to get a spot in an actual classroom. WHAT????? I thought education was free around here until they left high school. My tax dollars don't ensure my daughter gets a spot in Math? I am not happy. Her dad is not happy.

But Emily is happy. And in the end, if my kids are happy, so am I.