This week, I began teaching a short, six-week introduction to the orchestra for a group of elementary students. I worried that I’d talk above their grade level or sound simplistic, but I felt better when one of the youngest boys, after listening to a jazz sample meant to showcase the sound of a trombone, exclaimed in amazement: “It sounds like a hotel!” Exactly, you amazing, hilarious boy. I was so proud of him for connecting something he knew about (hotel music) to something he didn’t know about (trombones). It lit something inside of him and he understood. That moment is worth my …

One of the most surprising things about being newly married was that we had to learn how to celebrate the holidays. Oh, we figured out Christmas and Thanksgiving easily enough. That’s easy: you go see family when finances and work schedules permit. But we have found that the smaller holidays, the ones that get you off of work for a day or two but whose traditions are a little more fuzzy, are harder to figure out. Do we drive the six hours and take a half-week off to see this side of the family? Do we spend the extra money to fly south to see my parents? If we stay home, how do we scale things…

February just won’t slow down. I keep thinking it must be the end of the month by now, with everything that’s going on, but no, we’re not even to Valentine’s Day yet. Pretty sure all I want for Valentine’s is chocolate ice cream and a nap. Life has been particularly crazy these past two weeks and we’re just now—maybe—able to catch a breath. With a big work deadline for both Daniel and me, my two-year MRI, and planning for the rest of school year, it’s been go, go, go for the Archers. When I haven’t been taking care of essentials like Nate’s clothes and cleaning toilets, I’ve been editing 180 …

In December of 2010, I made my usual New Years’ resolutions: organize the house, clean more, eat better. Wanting to be a better parent, I also put on there that I planned to potty train our son, Nate, who was two at the time. I love a completed list and I’m always eager to finish off my resolutions, but I can safely say that for the past two years, that resolution is still unresolved. It is now February of 2012 and Nate is three and a half. I still cannot say that he is fully potty trained. God truly laughed at my plans. I know, it makes me sound like a terrible mother. We have honestly tried…

This week was one of those weeks. You know, the week that starts with you on the doctor’s scale at 8 a.m. on Monday morning. Yes, I’m stupid. And yes, they said I was overweight. I hate it when the nurse moves that 50 pound weight over one notch on the scale. Tuesday didn’t get much better. Nate and I were a little stir-crazy and eager to get of the house. Daniel had the car, but as soon as he got home, out to dinner and shopping we went. Chipotle is usually our dining room away from home, but a firetruck and ambulance at our favorite location warned us that this might not be a great night to…

  This week, I was late to school. Oh, class started on time, but the board was empty and I had to write the lessons as I taught. I felt behind, sluggish. 6:45 am will do that to you. Or just me. This week has felt very normal to me. I mothered, I wifed, I housekept. Nothing was done perfectly, but the necessaries got done and nobody starved. We had fun. We were a family. I also started my third of three part-time jobs. That sounds impressive, doesn’t it? Don’t fall for it. I work a maximum of 12 hours a week. I just really, really like variety. And commas. When I’m not taking care of Nate or…

  Hi. My name is Whitney and I like stuff. I love the whole process of stuff: the list-making, the shopping, the selecting. I love walking around each aisle in Target, looking for new items in stock. I love that pretty much any item in the world is available on Amazon. It’s my special brand of crack. Around this time of year, though, I find myself once again confronted by the stuff I have. Christmas, with all its gifts and excess, is just behind me, and the new year is yet in front of me. The chaotic aftermath of the holidays is still around my feet. The tree is still up (I know!) and the …

Our son Nate is visiting his grandparents for several days, and of course, the house is quiet. For most people, this fact would mean more time for sleeping in, going on dates, and watching television. But no, Daniel and I are insane people, so of course, we decide to paint the entire upstairs and rearrange 75 percent of all the furniture we have. Silly us. Who wants a vacation? To see what everything would look like, we decided to move large IKEA bookcase first. The thing is five feet square and so far, has survived five moves without falling apart. All the traveling, though, has taken its …

I’m a realist, a pragmatic, and often, a pessimist. I don’t often see the world through rose-colored anything. Bad things have happened to my family and well, you see life differently. But Christmas is hard for a pessimist. I find myself wanting to reject doubts and embrace the the traditions and the glamour and yes, even the kitsch. It’s irresistible. The holidays are the exception in my world. I plan for gift-giving and decorating all year long. Finally, in October, when the stores change their decorations from Halloween to Christmas, I am not sad to see Thanksgiving neglected. I am …

It’s a well-known parenting maxim: watch out for those terrible twos. The prediction is that the sweet toddler you love will become a screaming, demanding terror that will turn you into a blubbering fool. Even the phrase “terrible twos” sounds like a neon light that appears over your child’s head the second they blow out two candles on their birthday cake. It’s a myth. Don’t believe it. The terrible twos just don’t exist. When Nate turned two, I braced myself and thought, “We’re in for it.” We already knew he was a high energy child and well, that’s what we’d heard. But nothing really …

“Mrs. Archer, what is a predicate adjective?” It wasn’t the question that got me in trouble. It was that I couldn’t remember the answer. And that’s bad for an English teacher. I didn’t know an important part of what I was teaching. Oh sure, I could show the class what a good essay looked like and how to grammatically diagram a sentence, but I couldn’t remember the basic definition of a predicate adjective. That’s like, oh, fifth grade. Maybe. So I called the person who had taught me the concept years ago—my mom. She pulled out her grammar reference book we used growing up and once she …

Thursday morning, the three of us woke up early for a day of fun. Daniel had the day off work and the weather was orange, crisp. It was the perfect day for a trip into D.C. We had grand plans: drive into the city, park at our favorite semi-secret location, walk around the mall and monuments, meet a friend for lunch, and explore the toddler-friendly Natural History Museum. Two hours into a one hour car trip, things weren’t going very smoothly. Nate was mad, I was tired, and traffic was crawling. Why do we attempt things like this? About the time I realized that the walking distance from the …

The trees outside are a mottled red, green, brown. It’s moving time, and normally, I would be packing up our books into liquor boxes. The rules are simple: one, always start packing the books first, and two, liquor boxes are best. We Archers are familiar with moving. Six moves in five years will do that to you. It’s a known rhythm, one of unpacking, reshuffling. That chair works best in this corner. The forks and spoons don’t have their own drawer anymore. There’s always a period of adjusting to new space, and a few months later, when things are at peace, it’s time to move again. But we’re …

Saturday was Christmas shopping day. Daniel and I took Nate to Target, where we loaded our cart with LEGOs, socks, t-shirts, and candy. Nate wanted to look at Hot Wheels, but we reminded him that we weren’t shopping for us, but for other kids who wouldn’t receive the multiple gifts he would. I’m not sure he understood giving, but we’re working on it. It’s pretty much Christmas season at the Archer house. The decorations aren’t up and Bing Crosby isn’t crooning, but the planning and preparation are nearly at late December proportions. This probably makes me sound like an organizing freak, but …

I’ve been following the Occupy Wall Street protests this week and find the whole thing fascinating, particularly the protesters' signs. Rough and made of cardboard or artistic and published on Tumblr, the signs offer a detailed look at the creator’s complaints. Most of them feature debt, joblessness, medical needs, and lack of social standing. Counter-protesting signs have appeared on Facebook, with a message of hard work and a careful savings. I began to wonder, what would my sign look like? So I began to write: “I have never been rich. My husband was unemployed twice since we were married, …

I got up at 6:30 this Saturday, my one morning to sleep in. I love my sleep, but I love rummage sale season more. The next two weekends are dedicated to my annual fall second hand shopping spree. The crucial first hour of deals and steals is just sweet enough to lure me out of bed before the sun is up. If I plan my arrival early enough, I can find the best selection before the crowds arrive. This weekend, $50  bought a trunk full of toys, movies, books, and household goods whose values far surpasses anything I can buy in the store for the same price. The thrill of the hunt is addicting. …

We thought our dryer was broken. Two repair teams later and a couple of months later, we learned that no, it worked perfectly. The vent that goes through thirty feet of ceiling and three rooms is disconnected someplace causing overheating and ultimately, a fire hazard. The repairman guessed the disconnect was above the hallway, but after Daniel cut a hole, we learned he was wrong. It’s actually above our bedroom—we hope. So yes, our dryer works, but since I still can’t use it, I’m hanging our laundry on chairs, railings, and doors. And we’re getting another hole in the ceiling. Life is off-…

It’s been one of those weeks. It started with a head cold that left me with no energy to clean up the house and barely enough to feed and care for Nate. And each time I thought I was feeling better, my head would explode in sneezes and I needed another nap. I was very grateful for Nick Jr. The chaos was evident in our parenting as well.  After three days of congestion and headaches, Daniel and I were both  feeling restless and decided to take a trip to the mall. We tried to cajole Nate into eating his dinner quickly, but in our hurry, we were stupid. “If you hurry, maybe we’ll get some ice …

Once upon a time, I was a stay at home mom. My job very much fulfilled the traditional stereotype, though I wasn’t very good at keeping the kitchen clean. Three years later, I’m not sure that I fit that category anymore. Like before, I take care of my son, do the household chores, and run the finances. But I also work part-time. Twice a week, I write a column for Dale City Patch, and once a week, I teach a class of third-graders. My only office is my home, where I work from my lime-green desk and occasionally, my bed. So what am I now? There are lots of categories to choose from: the …

When the airplanes hit the World Trade Center ten years ago today, I was a 17-year-old high school senior. New York City and Washington, D.C. were another world away from south Texas. Our day had not quite begun when Dad called to tell us to turn on the television. That was the first image—the plane stuck in one of the buildings. I thought the pilot must have had a heart attack, that it was a bad accident. But as we watched the second plane hit, I remember seeing my mother react. It was no accident. We just sat there in front of the TV, for hours. We watched the towers fall soon after. The …