Monthly Archives: November 2018


I was in an accident on the way home from work today.  There were four cars involved, and a think a fifth actually was part of it but didn’t stop.  My car was seriously damaged, possibly totaled and definitely not drive-able.  I think there was an accident on the right side of the road.  The car in front of me swerved to avoid it, and I swerved to avoid that car.  I think I succeeded, but I was hit from behind.  I was just able to drive my car to the side of the road – Jonathan was surprised it was possible based on its condition.  I am fine.  Shaken up.  But fine.

In the moment, I was totally cool.  Afterwards, I was shaking and upset, but my reaction wasn’t abnormal at all.  Whatever circuit was mis-wired in my brain after B was born didn’t misfire tonight, for which I was grateful.  It sucked sitting on the side of the highway waiting for cops to show up.  There was a major accident on another highway so it took a while.  And then lots of time waiting for paperwork to be filled out and so on.  Jonathan came to pick me up and I’m home resting and working now.

I’m mad it happened.  Like, what if I’d left five minutes earlier?  Why didn’t I do something different to avoid the car in front of me?  Could I have driven better?  I don’t think so.  I mean, I really don’t think there’s anything I could have done.  They have identified the person at “primary fault,” but apparently it is possible I could be identified as at secondary fault, which I think would be massively unfair.  I really don’t think there’s anything I could have done.  I wasn’t speeding or on my phone or distracted in any way.  I wasn’t driving aggressively.  The car in front of me just pulled straight in front of me and I swerved to avoid it.  If I’d driven differently, could it have been worse?  Probably.  Could it have been better?  Probably, I guess.

I’m just glad I’m home.  It’s been a hell of a week.  What happened Tuesday has been sinking in, and I am really just very sad about it.  I really liked him, and it just feels like a tragedy.  Like a bad thing that happened to a very good person who did not deserve it.


I’m fairly amused by L’s writing.  Because she’s going to French school, she writes her numbers the French way, and they write English exclusively in cursive.

Sample 1:

I’m too lazy to search for a writing sample at the moment . Maybe later.

So far, I’m actually extremely pleased with L’s school.  H and I thought the academics were probably sub-par, a conclusion we drew form the 90s era “computer lab” and the fact that they obviously have a much smaller pool of teachers to draw from.  But I think the coursework is actually fairly rigorous for first grade.  Memorizing 10 lines of French poetry every couple weeks is on the face of it rather pointless, but I think it’s teaching L a type of rigor that will serve her well.  Weekly spelling tests in French and even French worksheets are always challenging, just due to the language barrier.   L’s French has taken off, thankfully.  (At one point late last school year, I was wondering if she would ever learn.)

On the social side, I am worried.  I see in L all the things that I myself struggled with in elementary school – paralyzing shyness and general social awkwardness that my sister never struggled with, and similarly, L’s little sister has no issues with.  In addition, L has a level of cautiousness that I never had, and the combination I fear will make life difficult for her as she grows older.  Her teacher says she is usually on her own at recess, apparently by choice, because she considers the games too rough.  (L says the same thing.)  Her teacher is absolutely wonderful and working to help her include herself in the games, but just as lack of ability in math or reading given a different rate of learning will become more pronounced, I fear the same will happen with social skills.

For myself, I feel that I’ve managed to attain enough social skills to function relatively well in society and at work.  My theory is that most people plateau at some point, maybe 16 or 18 or 21, and for those of us who were behind, if we continue to work at it, we can catch up.  I do feel I caught up a bit.  In school, I do think i struggled doubly because I was much younger than everyone else, thanks to starting school in PA with a 12/31 deadline and a 12/23 birthday and then moving.  L is nearly a full year older than I was in first grade, and I’m hopeful that that will help her navigate a little better socially.