Amy Writes

We have just returned from a delightful mini-vacation, sans kids. I would have told you, faithful readers, that I was leaving, but I didn't want to put that much information out here on the interweb where all the scaries could read it and deduce that my house sat empty. Which wasn't actually the case - in fact it was quite filled up with grandparents and kiddos - but either way, I didn't want to give the stalkers the notion that it would be okay to come knocking. Not that anyone coming to take anything out of my house would actually find anything worth taking. Seriously. If you're reading this and thinking about breaking into my house the next time I accidentally mention we're going on vacation, let me save you some time: Don't bother. Unless you're REALLY into High School Musical. Then we could probably hook you up. So like I was saying, this morning we stepped off a ship, having sailed the high seas for the last 4 nights. Though we are well-tanned, well-fe...

If "He is Risen" is central to our status as children of God, people of faith, righteous under Christ... Why isn't every Sunday - "Easter" Sunday?

We are wrapping up a week of Good Old Fashioned Family Entertainment here in the AmyWrites household. I was planning to write about the first episode, but the hits just kept on coming, so here is, now, a recap of some solidly entertaining chunks of time. Friday : Dan in Real Life . This film had so much going for it ( Steve Carrell ) straight out of the box that it would have had to work really hard to let us down. Refreshingly wholesome, completely family-friendly, it's one of those that you can recommend without disclaimers. And it contains one of the greatest lines ever uttered by a teenage movie character. If you've seen it, I'll let you guess to which one I am referring. Saturday: Annie Okay, I already wrote about this one, but it's not every week that I get to see TWO stage shows within a few days of each other. Sunday: 9:30 Service Are we not entertained? Come on, we had a revival break out during the southern gospel number. Sunday Night: The Martian Chi...

From time to time on Tuesdays, I will host a "piano class," rather than individual lessons. This is a time for all of my students to come at the same time, perform for each other, learn something together, and enjoy some treats. It gives them a chance to relax from the intensity of a one-on-one with me. Yesterday was that day. As each student took her turn at the piano, I realized why this job is so stressful: My teacher/student relationship with each one of them rests on my ability to determine just exactly how much disappointment is the right amount to show each week. It's a tough balance, and I don't have it figured out. They want to be encouraged, but I can't encourage garbage. But if I show my true feelings about their lack of progress, they burst into tears. And then, on the very rare occasion when one of them does have a good week at the piano, I'm so over-the-top enthused that they think they've mollified me and can slack off for a few weeks. It ma...

I took my daughter to see Annie this weekend. It was a production put on by my high school, so I knew it would be good. ( No, really. My high school produces some pretty incredible shows. ) I knew it would be good. I knew we'd have a good time. I knew she'd sing along and be enchanted by the kids on stage. I knew we'd be a little bit moved. But what I didn't expect was what would move me. See, I enjoy both the benefits and drawbacks of living in the shadow of my alma mater. Benefits: I get to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there. Drawbacks: I have to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there. So I dressed for the evening expecting to see people I knew. (Always opt for the slimming when heading back to high school.) And it happened. It happened at the ticket window (classmate) and in the bathroom (Latin teacher) and near the programs. (very extended family) It happened when we took our seats (preschool teacher) and then when the lights d...

A local mall is hosting "The Big People Spelling Bee." I love Spelling Bees. I love movies about Spelling Bees . One time, I won a Spelling Bee. I even got to go to the District Championship or something, but I got kind of bored in the middle and left. Mainly because it was at the County Fair, and who wants to sit inside with a bunch of spelling kids when there are rides to be ridden and funnel cakes to be eaten? I meet the requirements - that is, I am a great speller and I am over 21. And I'm a fan of the Literacy Coalition . At least, I think I am. I'm all for literacy. But am I all for standing up in the middle of the mall and spelling my heart out? Alone? I need a spelling buddy. Anyone in?

Earlier this week, we went to the park. This is your typical East Ft. Lauderdale park, populated by Nannies and kids with names like "Kennedy." (which I happen to think is a really cool name). I'm sure if we were to sell all the cars in the parking lot, we could feed a small impoverished nation. In spite of its glittering social scene, we love this park. Having grown up playing Tee Ball in these fields and tennis on these courts, I feel at home here. I feel a sense of belonging. A sense of oneness with this acreage in the middle of town. I feel, a little bit, like I own this place. Until Tuesday. On Tuesday, as I packed up the car I noticed that the car next to me had received a glossy postcard shoved into the driver's window. "European Spa & Wax." I checked my window to remove my postcard before I closed the door, but - no postcard. I checked the ground so I could keep from littering, but didn't see it. I assumed, at this point, that the car next to...