It all started innocently enough. The landscaper for our next-door neighbors always brings his dog to work. The dog’s a cute little Silky Terrier, and my daughter always wants to play with him. This time he wandered into our yard, and she asked if she could go see him. I said okay and off she went. Then the landscaper called the dog back to him. My disappointed daughter stood on our lawn, watching him go, longing for the dog. I called her back in and she asked if we could go play with the dog next door. I said no, the landscaper has to do his job and we can’t walk on his grass seeds after he spreads them, but we will go talk to him in a while. I wanted to get an estimate.
We went next door and my daughter called the dog as I talked to the guy. He gave me his card and he told me that he’d be by once he was done. I told my daughter to come back home with me. She didn’t want to, but she came. All the way home, she asked me if she could go back. I assured her that the guy would come over with his dog later and she could play with him all she wanted. read more
Who doesn’t love a playdate? I do. The kids are occupied, and if I keep my finger on remote’s trigger, I can watch “Orange is the New Black” until they come bounding in. Ahh, mom time. Sometimes.
We have a little trouble with playdates. We are slowly, painfully, teaching my five-and-a-half-year-old daughter to be a good hostess. She will, for reasons only she knows, abandon her friend during a playdate and go sit in her room. Sometimes she will sulk over some perceived injustice. Sometimes the friend didn’t want to go to her room. Most of the time, she doesn’t even invite her friend.
Last weekend, my daughter had a new friend over. She met her at the bus stop on the first day of school. I’m very excited about this friend because she lives in the neighborhood and has time available for playdates. We have some scheduling and personality conflicts with the other neighborhood kids. read more
My husband thinks he’s cornered the market on stress. Okay, he’s got a very demanding job; he works a lot of hours, he’s on call 24/7 and he does carry a lot of stress on his shoulders. But the other day I mentioned that I had more stress than usual and you’d have thought I’d said I got abducted by aliens.
“Stress?” he said. “What are YOU stressed about?” Seriously, that’s the way he said it.
I don’t know how two people who live in the same house, eat dinner together and sleep in the same bed can be so far apart in their understanding. I began to explain. read more
My five-year-old daughter can’t handle anything medical. She won’t even let me look at cuts and scrapes — forget it if she has a splinter! Unimpressed by tales of Tooth Fairy riches, she’ll wait until her loose teeth, hanging by a thread, fall out on their own. I don’t know why this is, but given her unwillingness to let me even comb her hair, I’ve theorized that she has an unusually low threshold of pain.
At no time is this more apparent as when she needs an immunization. She needed two shots in order to start school this year and what an appointment we had!
“Do I have to get a shot?” she said on the way to the doctor.
“I don’t know,” I stalled, not wanting to alarm her but not wanting to lie, either. Okay, it was a lie. I did know. read more
We begin this story in progress. Last week I started the tale of our cruise vacation, not exactly from Hell, maybe Purgatory. We were about to go ashore in Juneau, Alaska. We wanted the kids to see Alaska, but even if we hadn’t, we had no choice. Kids’ club was closed most of the day.
We’d signed up to pan for gold in the afternoon, but our morning was free, so we headed to town to check out the shops and get lunch. Shopping with the kids. I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming. I can’t even take them to FedEx/Kinko’s without hearing “I want! I want!.” read more