A conversation between me and my 7-year-old daughter yesterday.
Her: Mommy, which is faster, hot or cold?
Me: I'm not sure - what do you mean by faster?
Her: I mean... (sigh)... I don't know - which is faster? Hot or cold?
Me: (Thinking she learned something in science, maybe?) Well, it depends. I know that molecules move faster in heat, so maybe hot. But do you mean that or something else?
Her: (sighs with exasperation) - NO, Mommy. Heat is faster, because you can CATCH a cold!
I ruined her joke. Mother of the year here!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
The grinch's heart grew two sizes today... and then broke
Okay, typically I'm not a big sap when my kids show signs of growing up. More than once I've heard from other mom friends, "Why can't they stay little forever?" but I've never been able to wrap my head around the sentiment.
Case in point - a coworker/friend at my old job came to work the day her first child started kindergarten, and as she told me about drop-off I could hear the sadness in her voice. Having experienced this milestone with my older child I tried to comfort and encourage her, telling her how much fun her son will have and how cool it will be to see what he learns every day (all of which is completely true). And I almost had her, dammit - until another coworker came by and asked what was wrong. When we explained, she immediately took my friend in her arms and howled, "Oh NO! I'm so sorry..." as if her son needed a heart transplant. And they both proceeded to cry.
I have tried to cry. I have tried to feel that Mommy-isn't-needed sadness. But to me, milestones like this are a thing of joy and beauty. Sure, it means that they don't stay little forever. It also means I don't have to pay for daycare forever, cut their meat forever, tie their shoes forever, cart them around to sports/rehearsals/friends' houses forever, etc. Even more importantly, I get to bear witness as they become who they are destined to be. With each passing year I see more clearly the kind of person they are and what they might do once they go out into the world. It fills me with pride and makes me hopeful as their generation inches closer and closer to leading us.
So you can imagine my surprise this morning when I asked my sixth-grade son if he wants me to chaperone his trip to the Medieval Faire in a couple of weeks. Normally with both of my kids, the mere hint that I'll chaperone a field trip elicits whooping and hollering and enthusiastic thank yous from whichever offspring I have asked. This morning, however, was not like other mornings.
Me: Here's the field trip form for the Medieval Faire - want me to chaperone? (poises pen to check "Yes" on the form)
Him: (hesitates) Oh, yeah. Um. Well...
Wow.
He doesn't want me to go. And it's quite obvious.
So I nonchalantly put the pen down and say, "That's okay. You can think about it for a day or so; it's not due until Thursday."
Yeah, that didn't seem to make him any more comfortable. So now it's really obvious that he doesn't want me there, but he's trying to not come out and say it because he doesn't want to disappoint me. I assure him that if he'd rather I not go on this trip, he can just say so and I'm completely fine with it.
So... he does. In a very sweet and considerate way, but he does. And I have to admit, it made me pretty sad.
Granted, I'm still trying to figure out if it's because my presence is no longer wanted by my son, or if I'd rather pay the $5 chaperone admission price for the Faire instead of the ridiculous $14 they normally charge. But I'm guessing it's more the former. And yes - it hurts.
Still, it's a sign that he's finding his own way. Becoming his own person. And the way I see it, if they don't become more independent over time, then I'm not doing my job.
Now that would make me cry.
Case in point - a coworker/friend at my old job came to work the day her first child started kindergarten, and as she told me about drop-off I could hear the sadness in her voice. Having experienced this milestone with my older child I tried to comfort and encourage her, telling her how much fun her son will have and how cool it will be to see what he learns every day (all of which is completely true). And I almost had her, dammit - until another coworker came by and asked what was wrong. When we explained, she immediately took my friend in her arms and howled, "Oh NO! I'm so sorry..." as if her son needed a heart transplant. And they both proceeded to cry.
I have tried to cry. I have tried to feel that Mommy-isn't-needed sadness. But to me, milestones like this are a thing of joy and beauty. Sure, it means that they don't stay little forever. It also means I don't have to pay for daycare forever, cut their meat forever, tie their shoes forever, cart them around to sports/rehearsals/friends' houses forever, etc. Even more importantly, I get to bear witness as they become who they are destined to be. With each passing year I see more clearly the kind of person they are and what they might do once they go out into the world. It fills me with pride and makes me hopeful as their generation inches closer and closer to leading us.
So you can imagine my surprise this morning when I asked my sixth-grade son if he wants me to chaperone his trip to the Medieval Faire in a couple of weeks. Normally with both of my kids, the mere hint that I'll chaperone a field trip elicits whooping and hollering and enthusiastic thank yous from whichever offspring I have asked. This morning, however, was not like other mornings.
Me: Here's the field trip form for the Medieval Faire - want me to chaperone? (poises pen to check "Yes" on the form)
Him: (hesitates) Oh, yeah. Um. Well...
Wow.
He doesn't want me to go. And it's quite obvious.
So I nonchalantly put the pen down and say, "That's okay. You can think about it for a day or so; it's not due until Thursday."
Yeah, that didn't seem to make him any more comfortable. So now it's really obvious that he doesn't want me there, but he's trying to not come out and say it because he doesn't want to disappoint me. I assure him that if he'd rather I not go on this trip, he can just say so and I'm completely fine with it.
So... he does. In a very sweet and considerate way, but he does. And I have to admit, it made me pretty sad.
Granted, I'm still trying to figure out if it's because my presence is no longer wanted by my son, or if I'd rather pay the $5 chaperone admission price for the Faire instead of the ridiculous $14 they normally charge. But I'm guessing it's more the former. And yes - it hurts.
Still, it's a sign that he's finding his own way. Becoming his own person. And the way I see it, if they don't become more independent over time, then I'm not doing my job.
Now that would make me cry.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
We have hit a new low, America
I have a newfound sadness for our country. Why do I say this? Is it because we're fighting each other over whose political rhetoric is worse instead of mourning six people who have died and praying for those injured? Is it because we have scores of birds and fish dying for no apparent reason? Is it because there are so few jobs out there and so many people who need them?
No. It is because of this:
This is a new product called Forever Lazy. It is described as "adult footed pajamas" (not sure why, since they seem to end at the ankle), and they come in four colors with names like, "Asleep on the Job Grey" and "Hanky Panky Fuschia."
These seem to be made for people who think that a blanket - even one with sleeves - is too darn complicated to use. And they show actors wearing them while studying, having coffee on a deck outside and playing with animals. My favorite is when they're tailgating before a football game. Yes, outside. In public. They look like Teletubbies on a bender.
But, you ask, what if you have to go to the bathroom? (By the way, that question makes you smarter than anyone who would buy Forever Lazy.) No problem, because - I kid you not - they have included strategically placed zippers for such an occasion. Witness:
I'll give you a minute to erase that thought from your brain.
Go ahead, I'll wait.
Ready to move on? Good. So there you have it. The decline of western civilization has begun with what amounts to a fleece prison jumpsuit. Awesome.
No. It is because of this:
This is a new product called Forever Lazy. It is described as "adult footed pajamas" (not sure why, since they seem to end at the ankle), and they come in four colors with names like, "Asleep on the Job Grey" and "Hanky Panky Fuschia."
These seem to be made for people who think that a blanket - even one with sleeves - is too darn complicated to use. And they show actors wearing them while studying, having coffee on a deck outside and playing with animals. My favorite is when they're tailgating before a football game. Yes, outside. In public. They look like Teletubbies on a bender.
But, you ask, what if you have to go to the bathroom? (By the way, that question makes you smarter than anyone who would buy Forever Lazy.) No problem, because - I kid you not - they have included strategically placed zippers for such an occasion. Witness:
I'll give you a minute to erase that thought from your brain.
Go ahead, I'll wait.
Ready to move on? Good. So there you have it. The decline of western civilization has begun with what amounts to a fleece prison jumpsuit. Awesome.
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