I’m not completely incompetent. Once, many years ago, I changed the belt in a clothes dryer. I’ve planted grape vines, cooked tenderloin, and repurposed Ikea drapes into valances. Heck, I’ve made pickles before. I was born to fix a vacuum!
Archive | March, 2012
Kids And Pain
I hear from my friends all the time about how one kid can break a bone and not even flinch and the other screams from a scratch and I see it in my kids as well. And I wonder what is in their make up to make them react so differently to pain and or to crave or reject medical attention.
Jumping Into The Pool
Procrastination is about transitions. You don’t stop to research window treatments when your work or cooking or parenting is humming along. It’s in between the projects. It’s in that what should we make for dinner? time. That, how should I start this outline? time.
Riding In Cars With Kids
It’s a threat I’ve made before, emerging from previous conversations that went along the lines of “Well, if you take away that, then I’ll still have this.” I’ve yet to take away everything they care about and it usually boils down to losing iPod privileges. This conversation went the same way.
Mission Accomplished
The Mission Project is a big deal. It’s done by our fourth graders. It was done by their older siblings and babysitters. It was done by their babysitters’ parents and probably their locally born grandparents. Buster Keaton’s children did a mission project.
“Is There Such Thing As The Tooth Fairy?”
To admit that there isn’t a Tooth Fairy would put Santa in imminent danger. My son blew the whistle on Santa when he was seven, almost eight and I was thrilled about it, but that’s a story for another day. My daughter is now six, almost seven, and it’s too early.
How To Get Out Of A Ticket
I was being pulled over in front of my kids’ elementary school for reckless driving. I was that mother.
The Folly Of A Spa Day
There isn’t much room for intensity in parenting. Intensity comes in the form of the occasional baseball coach who will win at all costs. And what do you say to each other on the bench when faced with that guy?
They’re kids. Give them a break. It’s just a game.
Or, most likely, What an asshole.
But you won’t call him an asshole. You’ll call him a jerk because there might be a three-year-old behind you who is eager to repeat your words.
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