Archive | January, 2011

{this moment}

28 Jan

I love reading Amanda Soule’s blog…every Friday, she posts something called {this moment}. “A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.”

I’m going to start doing this and I think you should too.
So, here is my inaugural {this moment}

George Washington wiped out here

28 Jan

I was playing a U.S. President word game with one of the kids. Clue given: “What was a job Washington had before becoming President?” Three “hint letters” into the solution: S-U-R, my child excitedly yelled: “SURFER!”

Wakan Tanka

27 Jan

The dumbest thing I’ve ever said: “Sure, we can make a teepee today!”
Only to be followed by the most surreal thing I’ve ever said: “But we’re gonna need rope. Where did I hide it when I confiscated it from you guys when you tried to walk the baby?”

Please note the following:

  • When you make a teepee, you can’t have TOO many poles. I mean, it’s just something I learned on my journey and I wanted to share with everyone. If you collect 10 long sticks for construction, go back and collect 5 more.
  • Do not discourage your kids from decorating the inside of the teepee with skeletal remains (of unknown origin) found on your back property. It really steps the decor up and screams “native.”
  • Superman sheet as teepee panel, while perhaps not historically accurate, looks pretty cool.
  • Do not be discouraged when *you* are playing in the teepee more than your kids. Remember, they asked you to build it, but they totally didn’t expect you to really do it. So, you’re kind of on your own on that one.
  • When your children subsequently tear down the teepee because the 10-year-old neighbor girl claimed to have a superior design and reinforcement idea, don’t fret. This is only the first of many times where your boys will rip your warm, beating heart right out of your chest and pounce on it because of a girl’s influence.
    Get into it.

ANY body part?

27 Jan

*Maximum* number of questions you should allow your child to ask your sister’s body piercer friend about his profession: 4

The conversation leading up to the threshold:

Kid A: (Question #1) What are those holes in your ears?
Piercer: Bamboo rings.
Kid A: (Question #2) Do you have a lot of other piercings?
Piercer: Yup
Kid A: (Question #3) Do you pierce people’s noses?
Piercer: Yup.
Kid A: (Question #4) What about belly buttons?
Aunt B: (exasperated) Oh my God! You can get *ANY BODY PART* pierced!!!
And….then came question 5.
It’s all a horrible parenting haze after that…

Duck Jesus

27 Jan

Pragmatic walker

27 Jan

June 4, 2010 at 2:19 pm
Me (while frying chicken; to Paul, 7 regarding Anthony, 2): “Paul, please go for a little walk around the house with Anthony while I finish dinner, OK?”
Paul: “Where’s the dog leash?”

Hockey equipment testing for the 7-year-old soul

27 Jan

Overheard in the living room after the boys tried on their new protective hockey equipment a few weeks back: “Now, hit me in the nuts!!”
Do you think that this is an actual equipment test case for Reebok?

Waiting Room Parenting

27 Jan

The pediatrician’s waiting room is a public behavioral laboratory whereby a guardian’s everyday interactions with his or her child and applicable partner is either histrionically magnified or suspiciously downplayed due to their audience (read: the other poor captive parents and guardians in said waiting room). The Waiting Room Mother wants you to know how much she loves her children. She wants you to understand that she is very serious about punishment and consequences. She wants to dog and pony it up. She wants *you* to see her in action. She wants to you revere her superior parenting style (come on, seriously, it probably is). She wants you to know that she cares about the incessant application of Tyler’s antibacterial gel and reinforcing Bella’s gifted placement technique of the train table accoutrement.

Here are some tips to avoid the pitfalls of Waiting Room Parenting:

Train table
Keep your piehole shut when your kid is occupied here. Don’t prod them to do all the right crap with the helicopter. If they want to crash it into the train station and make bomb noises, let them do it. If they want to score their own Apocolypse Now redux scene to a cat meowing rather than the whir of chopper blades: step aside. Also, you don’t need to validate EVERY move your kid makes with a play piece. Yes, Henry is doing a lovely job keeping the train on the track, and he knows that the lake is blue. Call Ripley’s, but do it outside.

Don’t hog them. There are probably only four that are intact and available for perusal: keep them in circulation. And if you are showboating your 3-year-old “reader,” I will ignore you.
Ignoring the Waiting Room Mother = one of the worst things you can do to her.

Schrödinger’s Pantry
Waiting Room Mothers feel compelled to only bring socially-acceptable, low-sugar, artistically-packaged, nutritious snacks for their children to eat when they are in public. Don’t believe that it is always this way. Personal home pantries DO NOT exist when you are in the waiting room. Waiting Room Mothers are going to try to make you feel like crap, yes, and they might succeed. Just be prepared. When you pull out a bag of mini-marshmallows (three colors!) at the doctor’s–you will get looks. Work through them. Be strong. Brush your kids teeth later. Tell HER kids to get out of your face. Most importantly, find solace in the fact that those judging you may very well be washing down their supper later with some Valium and a magnum of Riesling.

The One With the Apostrophe and the Nightcrawlers

27 Jan

April 26, 2010 at 9:20 am

Every time I drove past the house with the “Bill and Jens” sign out front, I always fancied a nice gay Scandinavian couple lived there. Then, Friday, I met Bill while buying nightcrawlers, and realized that Jens was just missing an apostrophe.

%d bloggers like this: