"We're Concerned About You..."

That was the title of an email I received from my instructor at the Institute of Children's Literature. For the last year and a half, I have been taking an online course in Creative Writing for children. In reality, the course is only supposed to be 6 months to a year long--you can move as quickly as you like--but I took a 6 month leave of absence when the last three months and the last six months of work and pregnancy were just too much for me. It's only worth like, ten college credits, or something small like that, but it's taken me forever to work through the course. I am finally on Part A the last assignment. But I have been putting it off. It was due January 1, thus prompting the email: "We're Concerned About You."

Yes, I am sure you are, as most other people, who know more about me than you, are. There is much to be concerned about, but my late assignment is not one of those things. For example, I would be concerned that I enjoy disco music and 70's soft rock. I know. The two red-headed step-children of the seventies music scene, the aspects that so many would love to forget, I have a yen for.

I would also be concerned that I have three sets of the Harry Potter Collection: The American version, the children's British version, and the adult British Version (this is just more sophisticated artwork and different typset. This is not, as so many people think when I say the "adult" version, the version where Hermione and Ron get it on in the back seat of a car and Pansy Parkinson is the newest star of 16 and Pregnant). And I am on the campaign for a Valentine's Day paperback set, as well. I don't know why. It think it's a disease.

I would be concerned that when I watch a DVD season, or a Netflix streaming season of a show I like (Gilmore Girls, Friends, Frasier, Family Ties, Biggest Loser, etc), I must watch every episode --even if I have already seen the episode, or I do not care for the episode. I have to watch EVERY ONE. Why? Because it is a set, and I need to keep them all together.

I would be concerned that when I was little, I would alternate every day which shoe I put on first: on Monday, the right shoe got to go first, and and Tuesday, the left one, and so on. Why? Because I didn't want the left shoe to feel left out when the right shoe got to go first every day. It's cute when you're five, but it's concerning when you're 30.

I would be concerned that I have allowed Joe to teach our two year old to moon people. Bare-butt mooning. And I think it's funny.

I would be concerned that it takes me 45 minutes to peel and orange. Yes. Forty-five minutes. I do not like the yellow gunk on my orange, so I peel as much off as I possibly can. Alice doesn't ask me to peel oranges anymore. She has learned to go straight to Daddy.

I would be concerned that I do not like using the bathroom. It is the most inconvenient thing in the history of the world, although Salem Witch Trials are a close second. The point is, you always have to pee when there is no bathroom around. You always have to...ahem...when you're in a store and all you really want to do is peruse the As Seen on TV aisle (yes, that would be another thing to be concerned about). And your two year old always has to "pee" when you go to a new place. Peeing, in any form, is not convenient and I just don't like it.

I would be concerned that I don't loan out my jigsaw puzzles unless I have completed them first. I would feel like I was the loser because I didn't conquer the puzzle first. I told you. Concerning.

I would be concerned that I like to watch The Biggest Loser, not because it's inspirational, but because I think it is funny to see fat people cry.

See, there are many things to be concerned about when it comes to me, but I assure you, Children's Institute of Literature, being late on my assignment is not one of them. I have one baby, one toddler who decided that today she would be a tiger and so drew lines on her face with a pen, a husband whom I see for 30 minutes tops every day, an iPad with an AllRecipes app, and an invitation to Pinterest. Being late on my assignment is inevitable--but not concerning.