The Boy and Little No Limit participated in yet another birthday-party-with-pinata event. I told them we were going to a birthday party and the moment we arrived, The Boy said hello to the host mother and then followed jos greeting up with “Do you have a pinata?” Way to make me look good, son (because we all know that his behavior at a birthday party is ultimately about me).
So the pinata was good. It was a pony. It put up a strong fight:
It used to be vertical.
What, my legs? Only a flesh wound.
It reminds me of another party we attended where there was a Sponge Bob pinata that took two complete rounds of beatings without breaking a sweat (or tear, as the case may be) when the host father turned to me and muttered, “Sponge Bob’s putting up quite a fight — next time we’ll have to get Patrick.”
Hefty Hefty Hefty
Wimpy Wimpy Wimpy
HAHAHAHAHAHA
Oh, you haven’t lived until you’re making jokes that reference your kids’ television shows.
So, anyways… back to the pinata at hand. The pony put up a magnificent display of what the psychiatric world might call internalizing, but it finally let all that emotional candy go when the final hit landed — a hit that landed just so diagonally while coming at it from just so the right angle (dear dear, I feel a math word problem coming on… someone stop me before the train leaving one station 45 mph and the train leaving another at 55 mph collide).
As with all pinata experiences, the kids are never *fully* satisfied. They’re always looking for more candy. Honestly, they could have three grocery bags full of candy and still be rooting through the weeds, shrubs, and dirt with the hopes of finding additional and overlooked pieces of candy. In this party’s case, The Boy conducted his post-pinata surveillance, and after determining that the number of remaining candies was C minus 0, immediately took notice of Little No Limit’s bag. He examined it over a length of time, then very slyly smiled at Little No Limit with her Kindergarten mind, and said the following:
“Hey, want to play subtraction?”
***
In other news, I just met with his teacher for parent-teacher conferences. She mentioned he has the basics of addition and still needs help with subtraction.
Me: Good morning, everyone, time to get up!
Kids: Yes! Let’s jump on the bed!
Me: It’s almost time for school – please put your socks and shoes on.
Kids: But first, we will jump on the bed!
Me: It’s time to eat – please wash your hands and come to the table.
Kids: Quick! We must jump on the bed!
Me: It’s shower time – please get undressed, put your clothes in the laundry and get into the shower.
Kids: Of course, but after we’re undressed but before we get into the shower, we must jump on the bed!
Me: The shower is over. Here are your towels.
Kids: Whee! Jumping on the bed with wet towels is fun!
Me: It’s bed time. Go get in bed.
Kids: But I don’t want to go to bed!
…
And people wonder why I say I’m slowly going insane…
Thanks to Scott Gale, for doing this interview with me about his upcoming book, Your Family Constitution. Sign up on his website to read the first chapter and be notified when the book comes out.
1. What is your book about?
The book is a road map that parents can use to identify their core values and build effective family structure around them.
2. What prompted you to write this book?
I had a Mother’s Day meltdown with my son that culminated with me walking 14 miles homes. It gave me a lot of time to think and made me realize the need for change within my own family. After completing the Family Constitution for my family and living with it for a while, I decided to share it with other parents through this book.
3. Who do you hope will read this book?
Any parents with kids in the home or anyone thinking of becoming a parent.
4. What are the top 3 messages you hope to get across to your readers?
1) Clarity, consistency and commitment are the three keys to effective family management
2) Failure to step back and plan because you are too busy only fuels the fire of frustration and chaos
3) Parenting is what you make of it. You have to make it fun for you and your kids. All the other good stuff will follow.
5. Are your wife and children excited about this book?
My wife is nervous because she feels like I’m airing our dirty laundry to the world; nevertheless, she supports me on this journey. My kids don’t really care, as they don’t sense any impact of the book to their world.
6. What was your writing process for completing this project?
I wrote a complete draft, then submitted to a few close friends for review. After I received feedback, I basically re-wrote the entire thing to provide a more personal voice.
7. Do you have any other writing projects in mind?
Kind of. I want to write a comedy screenplay about competitive eating.
8. How did you decide come up with the title?
I just described the product.
9. What was your favorite part about writing this book?
Even though I basically discarded the first draft, the initial writing process really allowed me to think. It was very therapeutic.
10. Least favorite?
Editing. It is like pulling teeth after you have read through something 100+ times.
11. What advice do you have for other first-time writers out there?
Start with a framework. Define your voice and your audience. Then start writing.
12. Where can readers buy/pre-order your book?
They can go on my website and download the first chapter for free. They can provide their email and I will let them know as soon as it is available for sale.
13. Anything else you’d like to say?
I want to reinforce how much effort it takes to make change in your life. It will always be inconvenient, as the life of a parent is by definition crazy. But, it is so worth the effort.
Go check out his website for more details. Thanks, Scott!
I was eight years old when my mom got her first bike. My father bought her a beach cruiser as a present, and my brothers and sister and I and a couple neighbors watched her try to ride it for the first time.
It was the neighborhood I lived until I was eight, the kind of neighborhood where we knew everyone. There was Julie across the street and Fawn next door to the right. Ray and Daniel in other houses. The old guy on the bike who always gave us candy. The bully kid down the street who called me a show off when I rode my bike without holding the handlebars. We would all get together and play Kick the Can and make up obstacle courses in our yards that often involved dodging pine cones and scaling the 6×6 orange-painted brick wall that was attached to my house.
The house next door on the left was where Nice Family lived. Nice Family kept their Christmas tree up one year until July. I thought it was funny, and only found out years later that the reason they did that was because their son went into the hospital for cancer at the beginning of December and they promised to keep the tree up until he came home. Their son did come home to that Christmas in July, but eventually died from said cancer. I don’t remember his exact age at death, but I believe it was before he even reached 20. It’s hard to make sense of ages when you’re a kid. I just knew he was much older than me and that it was sad.
But what’s really sad is what else happened to Nice Family.
They had a daughter who was close to my sister’s age. She used to play with us, participating in the aforementioned pine cone dodging. She often rescued me from too much teasing at the mouths of my older siblings, and she joined us for trick or treating on Halloween. When I was thirteen, my mom woke me up and told me that Nice Family’s daughter had died. She was 17. She did not die from cancer, like her brother, but at the hands of a serial killer who has since been executed by lethal injection for hers and four others’ deaths and mutilations. It was huge news at the time.
I don’t talk to Nice Family anymore. I don’t know if Mr. Nice Family remembers teasing me about my pink T-shirt that said, “Why Yes I Am A Beauty Queen” or if Mrs. Nice Family remembers the time my brothers and I watched in awe as their cat took on major battle with a locust and won (you would think this would have been a quick battle, but that was one feisty locust).
I do wonder, though, if Nice Family remembers watching me watch my mom learn how to ride a bike. They chided me for laughing when she fell. They didn’t chide me in a mean way, but with the same gentleness with which they always spoke to me. “Don’t laugh at your mom. She doesn’t know how to ride a bike.”
What they don’t know is that I didn’t know that. I just thought my mom kept losing balance. I didn’t know that she’d never actually learned how to ride a bike. Whatever, I was eight. The thought of someone not having learned how to ride a bike was foreign to me. And that was when – watching my mom fall off her bike, and keep getting back on – that I realized that she didn’t know how to do everything.
A couple years later, with the news of Nice Family’s daughter, I thought of that lesson they’d taught me, that my mom didn’t know everything.
And now, years and years later, I think of the two lessons I’ve since learned from Nice Family – that moms don’t know everything and bad things can happen to good people.
And no matter how often I fall at the fate of those two lessons, I keep getting back on the bike.
***
So, do you have a First Bike story?
Write a post about the topic First Bike, enter it to Scribbit’s Monthly Write Away, and you just might win yourself a $200 credit towards a sweet new ride—bike ride, that is.
I’m calling this week’s Carnival of Family Life the “Did You Know…” edition because I’m treating you to a barrage of holiday trivia, courtesy of Wikipedia and Google?
Education
Did you know…
Perth College has a program called Courses for Christmas, wherein one can buy education courses for their loved ones?
Brigid presents Brain Fitness posted at New York Public Library. “After attending a recent staff training session offered by the library’s Office of Staff Development, I decided to return to a habit of my childhood — eating sardines,” Brigid announces.
Kwanzaa was created by Maulana Karenga in 1966, and got the name from the Swahili phrase “matunda ya kwanza” which means “first fruits,” and at a Kwanzaa feast, you might find yourself eating jollof rice, yams, and coconut pie?
That the results of the 16th Annual National Gingerbread House Competition are on display at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville , NC?
(Try here or here for details and cool photos).
Annette Berlin presents Easy-To-Make Lollipop Kids posted at Craft Stew. “Lollipop Kids are a great craft to enjoy with your kids before the holidays . . . or any time of the year,” according to Annette.
That the PNC Christmas Price Index Report annually determines the cost of purchasing all the gifts in the 12 Days of Christmas, and it’s soooo not cheap?
Loraine Lawson presents Family Gift Idea posted at Time for Family, asking, “If you’re looking for a way to cut down on the holiday hassle and possibly save money, why not consider giving family gifts this year?”
Lauren Rose presents Credit Card Skimmers - Keep Your Eye on Your ATM card posted at No Debt Anymore.org. “With the holiday season in full swing, credit card and ATM theft is increasing at an alarming rate,” according to Lauren, so she explains “three common ways thieves may try to gain access to your personal information using a skimmer device, as well as ten tips to protect yourself.”
Tom Tessin presents Top 10 Most Affordable Vans for 2008 posted at FGC Auto Blog, saying, “Looking to tow your family around in the family van? See what we recommend as the top 10 affordable family vans in 2008.”
Family Health and Wellness
Did you know…
That although Charles Dickens never specified what ailment Tiny Tim suffered from in A Christmas Carol, some suspect it was renal tubular acidosis or rickets? Or that there is an organization in Longmont, CO called The Tiny Tim Center that was founded to help parents of children with disabilities and later expanded to help educate all children?
Aparna presents Teeth Whitening Remedies posted at Beauty and Personality Grooming. Teeth can be naturally dark or discolored by repeated exposure to tea, coffee, red wine, smoking, medications, decay or
trauma. Aparna offers treatments and remedies that will adorn you “captivating smile with a row of glistening pearly white teeth” just in time for all those holiday season photos.
Carole Fogarty presents Upgrade Your Level Of Self Care posted at The Healthy Living Lounge, inviting you to “give yourself permission to upgrade your level of self care on a regular basis. 2009 is going to be the year I
honor the importance of relaxation, deep rest and self care even more.”
Matthew presents Allergies posted at Fast Medical Information. “An allergy is a reaction which is exaggerated in our immune system in response to a foreign substance that is harmless to and does not trigger a response in a non-allergic person,” Matthew explains. Allergens include dust mites, mold, danders, foods, and pollen.
Santa Claus also goes by these names: Father Christmas, Saint Nicholas or St. Nikolaus, Sinterklaas, Kris Kringle, Père Noël, Joulupukki, Babbo Natale, Weihnachtsmann, Saint Basil and Father Frost? And that David Sedaris wrote an essay about the Santa Claus story as told in Holland, which you can read here?
That many pets under two years of age brought into shelters or euthanized because the owners couldn’t take care of them were originally Christmas gifts? Think before you buy a pet! And adopt instead of buy!
Back in the late 1100s, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine led a revolt against her husband, King Henry II, and as a result, was locked away in a prison for a number of years, during which she was only let out on special occasions like Christmas?
muse presents Wheels posted at me-ander about her eldest son’s favorite mode of transportation.
Ian Peatey presents Meeting Tom posted at Quantum Learning - nonviolent living. “There are some moments that are reserved for the father. Meeting Tom (my daughter’s first boyfriend) is one of them,” Ian explains.
luvmy4sons presents Repeat Performances posted at Do You Weary Like I Do? The mother who authors this blog is finding out that teens and toddlers are “remarkably similar!”
According to a The Baby Website survey, the most common white lie told by parents (at 84 percent) is that Father Christmas only brings presents to good boys and girls. The second most common white lie is that Father Christmas only visits homes on Christmas Eve where the children went to bed nicely.
Kathryn presents Kids and Christmas posted at Living the Proverbs 31 Life, opining that “there really is something about giving that makes the Christmas season all that more special.”
…that next week’s Carnival will be hosted at Destroy Debt?
…that if you would like to participate in next week’s edition of the
Carnival, click here to submit?
…that if you you have questions, you can review the Carnival guidelines before submitting your posts?
Would you like the Carnival to pay a visit to your site? Check out the hosting schedule, select a date, and then drop a line advising what week you would like to host.
The Boy and Little No Limit attended their first karate lesson. The first thing they did was run into the dojo with their shoes on. Sensei was open minded about it and managed to get them back to the lobby to take their shoes off. Once inside the dojo, they impressed me with their listening skills, though I daresay they didn’t impress Sensei.
Impressing me means that they actually listened and followed instructions at some point. Never mind that Sensei had to repeat everything several times, and then actually mimic the requested movements before the kids could follow him, but hey, he’s worked with this age for a while. Surely, my kids’ behavior wasn’t that outside the norm. Over the course of the half hour, they did a lot of running, punching, kicking, projecting their voices (“Aiya!”) and standing at attention, with a smattering of high fives along the way.
Towards the end of the session, Sensei was kneeling in front of the kids wearing mitts on his hands, directing the kids to punch and kick. He was asking them to punch as hard as they could and kick as hard as they could, first at the mitt and then at his chest. It was on this attempt to kick his chest that The Boy missed and kicked Sensei in that part of the body where men don’t want to be kicked.
Ouch.
Sorry, Sensei. Good thing you’ve mastered the art of self-control, because your older student and I, who were observing the lesson from the lobby, had to cover our moths and snort a lot. We weren’t laughing. We swear.
On that note, I’m off to watch The Forbidden Kingdom. Jet Li and Jackie Chan ain’t got nothing on The Boy.
The morning shower left droplets on the red and brown leaves and recently mowed grass. There is a light fog, probably leftover marine layer and the sun has finally come out. The whole park screams “Yes, I am that beautiful.”
We spend some time walking about the park and the kids sing “It’s November” to the tune of “Where is Thumbkin?”, something they learned at school and can’t get enough of (they’re fans of Albuquerque the Turkey as well, but haven’t memorized the lyrics). The Boy and Little No Limit scurry about to the tune of their song, their footsteps swishing and squishing their way through wet grass. They pick up fallen leaves. Leaf after leaf goes securely into their plastic bag for them to bring home and examine one by one for nuances in color, the random caterpillar, and full vs. broken.
The dogs are happy to be out on a walk, sniffing for all the latest and greatest pee-mail and leaving their appropriate responses. Another dog goes by in a car, a toy pinscher, wearing a sweater, barking at us.
Don’t even try, little dog in human clothes, you will not win.
Little No Limit is wearing jeans with large wet circles on both her knees from kneeling in the wet grass. She jumped in a puddle. I know her socks are soaked. I hope she doesn’t catch a cold. I worry if The Boy should even pick up leaves because the other day when he did that at a different park, his eye swelled up and his elbows and knees turned red and the doctor said he probably touched/rubbed against some plant.
I was talking about that incident this morning on the phone with my sister in law. “It’s so hard,” she said, while talking about how to protect our children. “What are we supposed to do, put them in a bubble?”
Honestly, there are moments. Moments when I think, man, I wish I could just do that. Hide them away in a bubble or a sanctuary like the guy in Once Upon a Day. But then I remind myself that that’s crazy talk. That I can’t lock them away. That that doesn’t protect them or help them. That I can’t stop everything, or perhaps anything, from happening to them.
I read a quote recently, attributed to Corrie Ten Boom: “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.”
I am a worrier. There is no way around it. I worry about everything I do, everything I don’t do. I can’t stop myself. I do at least restrain myself, though, and force myself to not let my worrying stop the kids from being kids.
And so I watch my daughter get her shoes and pants wet and I watch my son play with the leaves. And the only thing that happens are smiles. Smiles and red, exuberant cheeks, and giggles, and more of “It’s November.” And I am thankful.
The Boy’s speech has made marked improvements since the start of Kindergarten. I’m sure some of you experienced your two and three year olds telling your life story to strangers, but I’m only just now experiencing this. The Boy wants to show the parking lot attendant what he has in his pockets or introduce his entire family to anyone we encounter. He’s very chatty these days, and he has this hilarious explanatory tone to his voice that sounds like a cross between his teacher and Husband.
Today was my usual day of dog walking, parenting, and errands, with a dash of psychotic breakdown and a few shakes of randomness to ensure my kids have something to talk about in future therapy sessions, and then, of course, The Boy, dispelling his little proverbs.
Let’s start with the dog walking. Hey, all you dog walkers out there, it’s a simple rule: if your dog poos, pick it up. Why is this rule so difficult to comprehend? I understand there is the occasional lapse in memory where one might have forgotten the doggy bag, in which case you pick it up later that day or at the very latest on your next walk. I understand that sometimes your dog might go in a bush and you might feel it’s not harming anyone since nobody will actually set foot there, but you should still pick it up. What I do not understand (nor do the grooves in the soles of my Converse understand) is why in the name of God’s green-and-pooed-on earth you would leave a pile in the middle of a sidewalk. PICK. THAT. UP. There is no excuse for dog poo on a sidewalk. If you’re so lame that you don’t pick it up, at least kick it to the side. Why would you leave it in the middle of the sidewalk? That’s just lame.
I got home and The Boy saw my shoe and said, “Oh no!” and put his face to his cheeks a la Macaulay Culkin and then said, “You have a yucky shoe. You better wash it.” He also pointed out a rather big gob of white paint that Little No Limit poured onto the backyard cement and then stomped around on in her latest attempt to be an artiste, and then explained to me, “She did that. I told her not to.”
So I’m irritated about my shoes and this paint I need to clean up and tell the kids we will be going to library to return the movies. Last week, we rented three DVDs from the library. Angelina Ballerina, a recurring checkout, The Muppets Wizard of Oz (look for a hilarious cameo from Quentin Tarantino), and Max’s Words, in which the key words were “I’m too scratched up a DVD to watch.” For the past week, the kids kept asking to watch it despite that I explained every time we couldn’t. And every time they asked, they picked up the DVD and carried it to me wherever I was, the bedroom, laundry room, garage et al. And I kept telling them, “Please leave the DVD on the shelf because I don’t want to lose it.”
Lo and behold, today arrived and it was time to return the videos and Max’s Words was nowhere to be found. And after dealing with dog crap on my foot, I was just mad. Mad about the dog crap. Mad that I had asked them to change into their clothes and The Boy yet again wanted to go out in pajamas and cowboy boots, explaining to me, “But sometimes I wear cowboy boots with my jams [TheBoyspeak for pajamas].”
I demanded they help me find the DVD and the Boy nodded and put his hands on his hips and said, “I’m serious about this. This is NOT funny.” Which was kind of funny, but then I felt a little guilty, like I had totally scared him into talking like this.
We eventually found the DVD under the couch and then we went to the library. We checked out some new DVDs, had a nice lunch at Selma’s, and then went to Lowe’s. The Boy wanted to show everyone the new DVD he’d rented at the library, Word World, and asked everyone if they could spell C-A-T or T-R-U-C-K or H-O-U-S-E.
On the drive home, I was almost hit by no less than four cars, all of whom were simply NOT looking as they were pulling out driveways, crossing over parking lots, etc. I mean, seriously, I was really freaked and felt like that Simpsons episode where Homer’s horoscope told him he was going to die.
Mmmm, horoscope…
I got back home, and the kids sat down to watch Word World with their leftovers from Selma’s and the Notorious F.O.X., after an hour of biding her time and lulling us into a fool’s trance, scored big time on sneaking away with Little No Limit’s last slice of pizza. Little No Limit screamed from the living room and when I got there and witnessed the atrocity, I actually pulled that pizza slice from Notorious F.O.X.’s mouth, which may not sound like the wisest thing to do, to part a Chow Chow and her food mid-chew, but in addition to not wanting her to get away with such conniving behavior, it’s also not good for her health to eat people food, and her health is ailing as it is.
I should have bitten you.
Afterwards, The Boy put his arm around Little No Limit to comfort her and said, “You know, sometimes, there are some dogs who take other people’s foods. Would you like some of my potato chips?”
And finally, after all this, I laughed the good long laugh I needed all day.
You know, sometimes there are people who don’t pick up dog poo. Would you like some of my potato chips?
You know, sometimes there are people who don’t look while driving. Would you like some of my potato chips?
You know, sometimes there are kids who say the darndest things. Would you like some of my potato chips?
You know, sometimes there are bloggers who are shameless enough to write ‘kids say the darndest things.’ Would you like some of my potato chips?
