My children have a special radar that would be precocious and maybe even charming if it didn't result in their being completely demonic. It works like this: if it is my birthday, or Christmas, or any other day on which it is really, really important to me that they behave... their heads spin the full 360 degrees while they speak in tongues and vomit pea soup. I'm kidding. Their behavior is so repugnant it often makes me wish they were only vomiting. Because that? Could be cleaned up. So tonight, our friends arrived, and the fun began. My friend's daughter is Monkey's age. Usually--as...
I may have mentioned before that I often suffer guilt over being the "utilitarian" parent, and not doing many wheeeee-happy fun things with the kids...? Oh, did you miss that particular self-deprecating obsession somewhere, perhaps, in the midst of my fifty-seven other neuroses? Well, I worry that I don't spend enough quality time with my children. I had hoped that this summer was going to give us lots of great memories and opportunities for me to just relax and enjoy my little people. Mostly this summer has given me a big scar and a crash course in menopause, and that has cut into our beach...
Main compartment: * Plastic bag containing swimsuit, goggles, and towel * Lunch bag containing sandwich, juice box, yogurt, baby carrots, and cookie * Tap shoes * Ballet slippers * Leotard * Five unfinished pieces of boondoggle Front pouch: * Water bottle, freshly filled with ice * Morning snack (trail mix) * Afternoon snack (cereal bar) Time to pack: Twenty minutes. every. morning. Expression of gratitude from the wearer: "Camp is kind of boring, Mom."
I believe with every fiber of my being that my children are here to teach me necessary life lessons. (Narcissistic much? Why yes, thanks.) Chickadee teaches me to cope with many of my less-desirable character traits, as things that make perfect sense while I'm doing them suddenly look really horrible when I see them mirrored in the smaller version of myself. Chickadee and I are the president and vice-president of Dramaholics Anonymous. We're developing a twelve step program to break the cycle of Everything That Ever Happens To Me Is So Very Important The World Should Grind To A Halt Because...
So I arrived at camp today bursting to ask Chickadee all about her day, and just in time to miss a boy about twice her size decide she was standing too closely to his Foosball (sp?) table. Said boy shot one of the sticks directly into her stomach, and she screamed. I don't blame her. The rec room where all of the campers meet at drop-off and pick up is utter mayhem. I don't know how many counselors where in there, but there were way too many kids, running around like maniacs, and apparently some of them were impaling smaller children for sport. The counselor who brought my sobbing,...
Me: Hmmm, should we check them and see if they're done yet? Him: Yes! Let's check! Me: Okay. *turning on oven light* Whatcha think? Him: They're done! Let's eat them! Me: Really? Are you sure? Him: Yes...? I want to eat them! Me: Look closely. Do those look the way you think muffins ought to look? Him: *nose pressed to the glass* Hmmmm. Mama? They're kinda flat. Me: Yeah, they are. They're not ready yet. Him: Cuz muffins is supposed to be kinda round on the top, right? Me: That's right, buddy. Muffins should be round on the top. Him: Like my head! Me: Right, like your head. Him: I want the...
TV: Thanks so much for your help! Monkey: Thanks so much for your help! TV: No problem! Monkey: No problem! TV: We need to go now. Monkey: We need to go now. TV: Okay, thanks again. Monkey: Okay, thanks again. TV: Arrivederci! Monkey: I have a wedgie!
(I still haven't figured out how to fix my screwed-up page layout. So I'm going to do the mature thing and ignore it and hope it goes away. Carry on.) Children are a never-ending source of a fresh world-view, aren't they? I mean, they just come up with stuff that some of us stuffy old adults would never even think of. Say you were... oh... I don't know... say you were perhaps not feeling in top form for weeks on end a few days. Or that you'd been charged for two TVs--neither of which worked--and found yourself spending all of your spare time on the phone with a...
We just loooooove Vacation Bible School, around here. Love it! It involves staying up late for a week straight (as our church elects to hold it in the evening so that even those who work can participate), good snacks, and someone dressed up as a big cartoon character. This year's curriculum involves a gigantic dog. Really, what's not to like? Back before my surgery, I signed up to work during VBS. Then I sort of neglected to inform all the Powers That Be that I wasn't feeling so hot. So tonight I showed up to discover that yes, I was still fully...
