A RealFamilies RealFun Blog

Sep 16 2008

An open letter to my daughter

Category: Just Me

I'm concerned. Are you doing o.k.? You seem to be having a tough time of things this week.

First, you spilled peach yogurt down the side of your little blue chair. Twenty minutes after I cleaned it up -- fortunately it's plastic -- you tripped over the same chair and got salsa all over it and the carpet. Later, you covered the sofa arm in strawberry yogurt, and rubbed it in for good measure with a dishcloth. I appreciate that you want to help clean up, but don't. Just don't.

I figured you were having a messy day. Then you knocked over your soda when we were out at lunch with Mr. Tony and Nick. Not only did you drench the table, but you managed to soak your clothes. Luckily, I had a change of clothes in the car, but still.

Then today you spilled strawberry milk all over your blanket. Using my bath towel to soak it up wasn't such a great idea. Finally, the mess you made with your drink at Marina's party? Well, you're lucky that her nana was there with a big pile of napkins.

Goodness, child, it's even rubbing off Nathan. He tripped and spilled peach yogurt all over the kitchen trash can yesterday. And earlier this week, he managed to get cherry Gatorade on the living room carpet, too. You're becoming a bad influence on that boy.

Little girl, this spilling stuff has got to stop. I can't get the rugs cleaned if you're just going to mess them up again. Believe me when I say it's not pleasant to walk barefoot on a crusty carpet either.

Love,
Your soda covered mother

 

Sep 15 2008

Dem bones

Category: Just Me

The other night, the kids fell asleep on the couch while watching TV with their dad. (I know, I know. It's been a heavy TV week on account of all the rain we've had.) Paul called me downstairs to survey the scene and help get them ready for bed.

As I changed the sleeping beauties into their PJs, Paul said, "Nathan's got this really weird bump on his heel." I felt it and then checked his other foot. This weird "bump" -- more like a boney protuberance -- was present on both heels.

Then I checked his sister to see if she had the same thing going on, thinking maybe it was something that kids had and grew out of. Nope, her heels curved in normally. Then Paul and I check our own feet to see if ours were as weirdly boney as Nathan's. They weren't, so it wasn't some odd genetic thing we passed on to Nathan, like his monkey toes (my contribution) and cute tushy (Paul's).

Seeing that both his heels were the same, we weren't too concerned. However, Paul asked me if the doctor ever checked his feet. I told him that he looked at the usual (ears, nose, mouth, etc.). Since he's a boy, the doctor examined Nathan's penis, too, but never his feet. Paul laughed and said, "Doctors are always messing with the penis."

I chuckled but felt slightly disturbed. How come I hadn't noticed this before? When Nathan was an infant, I knew every nook and cranny of his body from diapering, bathing, and doing baby massage. But these days, since he bathes himself and even puts on his own lotion and sunscreen, I'm lucky to see if he's in need of a hair cut.

Something tells me I need to pay a bit more attention or Nathan will be  grown and gone before I sit up and take notice.

 

Sep 12 2008

Welcome to this mama's army

Category: At Home

Being a no-nonsense mama means I constantly order my kids around. Since Nathan is the older one who "should know better," he gets it most often. Here's the morning drill:

"It's late. Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"Pick up your pajamas and put 'em away!"

"Why are you up from the table? Finish your breakfast already!"

"For the third time, put your coat on! We gotta go!!"

"Nathan, please get your seatbelt buckled NOW!"

I'm not sure who it bothers more. Nathan must be tired of his mama yelling at him all the time. But I hate being such a nag. Still isn't that what parenting is all about? You make sure they're doing what they're supposed to be doing even if you have to act like a drill sergeant most of the time. It's a "shape up or ship out" kind of mentality.
 
Still I'm not a complete hard ass. I do let my guard down, like today. As usual, Nathan came home from school starving. Honestly, you'd think I sent him off with a couple of pretzels instead of a sandwich, a pudding pack, a juice box, two energy bars, and some cheese crackers. In addition, he gets an afternoon snack at school. But he's a growing, active boy and needs plenty of food. So when we got home he had a scrambled egg with cheese and ham, a big bowl of microwave popcorn, and two glasses of my diet soda.

I had considered the soda a special treat, so when he came in the kitchen asking for ice cream, I wanted to tell him no way. Instead, I caved in a little and gave him a big scoop of vanilla. After he finished, he gave me a cold, sticky, ice cream kiss, and told me that I was the best mom ever.

Putting Drill Sgt. Mama on momentary furlough can be very rewarding.