Category - Family Life

Once upon a time when Boo and Pumpkin Girl were very little and it was just the two of them, Boo was…oh how shall we say it? He was clingy. He needed me a-l-l the time. He wanted me to play with him, interact with him, be with him constantly. I did manage to get him to where he could play on his own, as long as I was in the same room, sitting on the floor and within arms reach. He was three years old and Pumpkin was about one.

Every time I needed to use the bathroom I would announce, “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” I would walk to the bathroom and Boo could see me the whole time. The only time I was out of eyesight was when I actually closed – and locked- the door. Then he would cry, run after me and knock on the door. Pumpkin would toddle after him, since apparently the party had moved over here by the bathroom. She’d pound on the door, too, because this was part of the game. Sometimes she’d even join in on the crying.

I would finish up and open the door and ask them why they were freaking out. Boo would say, “You went away!” I would tell him, “I went to the bathroom. I told you where I was going. I told you I’d be back. Look! Here I am!”

We’d go through the whole routine a couple of times a day.

At some point I changed what I said to be “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Stay here. Don’t. Freak. Out.”

One day I just said, “I’m going to the bathroom. Stay here.”

To which Boo replied, “But what if we freak out?!?”

“Then everything will be the same as always.”

Post Script – Even though many years have passed, my children all seem to have some sort of uncanny sensing ability. The minute I go into my room, close the door, enter the bathroom and close the door and go into the little potty closet and close that door…someone barges into the bedroom. “Mom? Mom? Mom?” they call out. “I’m in the bathroom. GO AWAY!” I say through gritted teeth. And in my head I’m thinking, “And just stop freaking out!”

Print Friendly

Pumpkin Girl and I had a day to ourselves this weekend. Well, not a whole day, just a couple of hours – but it was just the two of us, no boys allowed.

I’ve been meaning to do this with her for quite a while. She’s been asking for a day with just me, too. Just one thing after another gets in the way. Nothing that is actually more important than she is, but just life, you know? She knows how busy things get. She sees that I’m not running off and doing my own thing at the expense of spending time with her. But still. She was long overdue for some time that is just for her.

We started off getting her hair trimmed. She’s trying to grow it as long as possible, but the ends were just icky. So now she has a fresh start. Isn’t it pretty?

Then we went to a bead store. We wandered around, oooing and ahing over the beads. I let her make a keychain with her name. A llama followed us home.

I had a couple of coupons for free Wendy’s frostys, so we stopped there. We decided that we were actually hungry and had lunch, too. We laughed and joked and had fun.

I have to say that enjoyed our couple of hours together very much. I like seeing my Pumpkin Girl for the young lady that she is. Having our Girl Day was so good for both of us, individually and as a mom-daughter pair. Pumpkin was lighter and happier than I’ve seen her in a while. She stayed in such a superbly radiant mood for at least a day and a half. I’d like to say that she’s been responding to me better, but I think it’s mutual. We are responding to each other better. There’s been a lot of hugging.

Print Friendly

I have the SOD – Seasonal Overcommitted Disorder. Does this happen to you? In spite of your best intentions NOT to over-schedule your children, carefully keeping them to one extracurricular activity at a time, you find yourself with multiple activities all occurring at once.

This seems to happen to us on a seasonal basis. Spring soccer, ballet and scouts all sort of collide into a mass of over-committments. Saturday, was a blur. We had two soccer games, scheduled 45 minutes apart and located 40 minutes away from each other. (Did you catch that – 40 minutes away. Both games were in the same city, neither were at the farthest edge of the city and we have a 65 MPH speed limit on the freeway. Urban sprawl at its finest.)

Phil was nominated for our parish council and they chose Saturday morning for their day of discernment. I guess it was to sort out the unwashed masses of the nominees. What it really meant was that I was the lone driver for the day.

Poor Boo, he got dropped off at his final soccer game of the season, given a key to the house and strict instructions to only accept a ride home from a parent of one of his teammate, but if no one offers, to sit and wait for me.

Meanwhile, the rest of us traveled to Bip’s soccer game. His team finally won a game, 7 to 4, which is more goals than they’d scored during the entire season combined. Then we had a little party on the field with trophies and cupcakes and pictures. This was to celebrate the end of the season, not the complete routing of the other team of 5 year olds.

Back to the other side of town to pick up Boo. The weather had gotten colder and when we finally picked him up an hour after his game had ended, he was wearing his hat, sweats, sweatshirt and gloves. No one had offered him a ride home, of course. Our days of living in Military Mayberry are over.

After lunch Boo went off to some scout merit badge workshop. Somehow scouts manages to morph itself from a single, weekly meeting into almost monthly camping trips and other various and sundry weekend activities. We have a tough time getting him a ride to some of these things, too. But that is a vent for another time.

Then I took Pumpkin Girl and Bip to see “Cinderella.” This was Pumpkin’s ballet school’s pre-professional division’s year-end performance. I was originally just going to take Pumpkin Girl, but one day Bip saw her student teacher – also called Pumpkin Girl – and thought she was pretty. When he found out that she was dancing the lead as Cinderella, he decided to come along.

By the way, the student teacher has the same real life name as Pumpkin Girl, not the same nickname. But you figured that out, right?

Whew, I am tired just typing that all out. But now soccer season is over, as is religious education – which we don’t count as an extracurricular – and Pumpkin already had her own ballet recital, so things can start to settle down. Right?

Right?

Print Friendly

Yesterday was just one of those days.

We needed to be four places at once and with only two drivers, that just wasn’t going to happen. We blew off one activity this week – next time that will be the one we go to- and packed up dinner to go and loaded a ballerina, a soccer player, a baby and mom in one car, and another soccer player and dad in another. Away we went, waving to each other as we all pulled out of the driveway.

Soccer practice was cold. 53 degrees is actually fairly mild after a long winter, except the sun was going down and the wind was howling. Pumpkin Girl and I managed to get a blanket laid out on the very dead grass and anchored it with bags and water bottles. She attempted to eat her dinner but ended up taking refuge under a tree to prevent dry grass from blowing into her meal. Little Pipsqueak was not happy with the wind in his face so I stood up and turned my back to the wind. He was in my sling and I pulled my coat around him as best I could. Even with my back to the wind my hair was all over my face. I turned my head to look up and then I saw Bip.

His soccer ball had rolled down the hill and into the parking lot and was heading right towards an oncoming car. And Bip was heading right for the ball. I yelled his name.

“Bip! BIP! STOP!”

The driver of the car saw him, or actually probably saw the ball, and stopped. Bip kept right on going and picked up his ball which had come to rest at the car’s bumper.

When he came back, he was sobbing and kept saying, “I’m sorry, Mommy,” over and over again. I held him as best I could with the baby in the sling. Poor Bip wanted to leave. We shoved everything into his soccer bag, told the coach what had happened and left practice 10 minutes early. Bip cried the whole long walk back to the car. He did hear me calling, but thought his ball would be smashed and he’d never see it again. I told him that I was afraid that HE’D be smashed and I’d never see him again.

On the road to the ballet studio, he and I talked about what had happened and what to do next time. I emphasized the importance of obeying. We thanked his guardian angel.

The rest of the evening went without a hitch. Bip sat on my bed to watch “Curious George” until the rest of the family came home. We’re going to learn our lesson and move on.

Print Friendly

Chinese New Year was celebrated on February 3rd this year. I totally missed it. Oops.

This is the Year of the Rabbit. We don’t have any rabbits in our family. Two tigers, a dragon, 2 rams, 2 roosters, but no rabbits. In any case, here are the traits of those born in the Year of the Rabbit:

“People born in the Year of the Rabbit are articulate, talented, and ambitious. They are virtuous, reserved, and have excellent taste. Rabbit people are admired, trusted, and are often financially lucky. They are fond of gossip but are tactful and generally kind. Rabbit people seldom lose their temper. They are clever at business and being conscientious, never back out of a contract. They would make good gamblers for they have the uncanny gift of choosing the right thing. However, they seldom gamble, as they are conservative and wise. They are most compatible with those born in the years of the Sheep, Pig, and Dog.”

I’m one of the roosters in my family. I am a deep thinker, capable and talented. True, true. Philip insists that he is a ram, but many zodiac calendars list him as a sheep. Either way, he is warm, woolly and prone to head butts. Actually, his year description doesn’t fit him at all.

What’s your year? Does the description fit you? You can check here:
Chinese Zodiac

Print Friendly