Mommy Truths

One Fish, Two Fish

heather — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 17:39:49 +0000

Daughter wanted a goldfish for her sixth birthday. Well, in truth, she first wanted a hamster. But after changing diapers for four years, scooping kitty litter for close to nine, and cleaning up the back yard after Retriever, I said “no” to more poop in the house.

“Please?” she begged.

“Maybe when you’re ten. How about a fish?”

She brought home a book about hamsters from the school library. At bedtime, we flipped through the pages.

“See? They’re nocturnal animals,” I commented around page ten. “They’ll never be awake to play with you.” I worked this angle hard.

“Okay, I’ll get a fish.”

Daughter talked up her future fish for the full two weeks until her birthday. When the big day arrived, we filled up the tank with temperate water, added pink pebbles and plastic plants and waited a full two hours for the water to acclimate to drop the fish in from her little cup.

“Her name’s Goldie,” Daughter said when the fish was all set on a table in her bedroom.

We watched her swim around.

The next morning, Daughter stood in the doorway to my bedroom. “Come look at Goldie,” she said.

“Just a minute.”

After a bit. “Mom, come look.”

I joined her and looked at Goldie lying halfway down the tank, eyes wide open, still.

“Wow, I didn’t know that goldfish sleep with their eyes open,” I commented. Idiot.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Daughter asked.

“Let’s wait and see if she wakes up.”

Later in the morning, Husband caught me in the hallway. “Did you see that the fish is dead?” he whispered. Guess so.

We told Daughter that Goldie was probably sick, maybe dead, and we’d take her to the pet store to have her checked out.

“Just don’t flush her down the toilet,” she insisted.

After the kids caught the bus, I reminded Husband that a friend said if you bring the dead fish back to the store you can get a new one for free. “And ask them about the water. Are you sure we don’t need conditioner?”

They told him no, conditioner wasn’t needed and he brought home a new fish that didn’t have the same pretty white spot on her forehead.

“Maybe that’s what made Goldie sick and die,” Daughter surmised.

Fish number two was named Goldie, too. She made it through the first night and the next day. A week later, she developed black spots on her face, body and fins. I Googled the symptoms.

“Well,” I told Daughter. “It could mean she’s healing from a traumatic event – like moving here from the pet store – or she could have a condition.”

We shot photos on my iPhone and Husband showed the guy at the pet store. They suggested a complicated, month long process that began with adding salt water to the tank.

Three days later, she was dead.

“We’re going to a different pet store,” I told the family.

I knew better than to expect anything but the same result a third time.

(Note to readers: You might want to shop somewhere other than Petco for your fish since their employees know absolutely nothing about them.)

Upon entering the new pet store I asked, “Do we need conditioner in the water?”

“Well, of course,” the nice lady told us.

Then she showed us a shelf of colorful hardy Bettas. “I have one in almost every room in my house.”

Well, if she could keep that many fish alive, her advice was for us!

Daughter picked out a pretty purple fish, which she promptly named Violet, and we took her home. We shelved the fancy tank and plastic plants, conditioned the water and dropped Violet into a fishbowl of temperate, nicely conditioned water.

A week or so later, I walked into Daugher’s room during school and noticed that Violet was still. My heart jumped. Not again! I crouched down and stared through the glass. Move!

She didn’t look dead, but neither did the first Goldie. I tapped the tank. Blew on it. Move! She sank a bit, then pushed a fin back. Then another. I put Daughter’s clothes away and came back to check on her. She swam slowly, lazily around the tank. Maybe she’d been sleeping.

A month later, Violet is still happily swimming around.

All in all, Daughter weathered the lives and deaths of her birthday fish with a healthy amount of nonchalance. Thank goodness. And truth be told, we never did get that book about goldfish.

From Tree to Table

heather — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 13:36:34 +0000

“What’s healthier?” Son asked while sitting at the kitchen counter one afternoon dipping his chicken nuggets into ketchup. “Nuggets or apple slices?” His apple was getting less attention.

“Well,” I began. “Let’s talk about that.”

Husband has been reading In Defense of Food by Michael Pollen which talks about eating food close to the earth and something your grandmother would recognize. Nuggets? Not on the list. Apple? Goes back to Adam and Eve. Close to the top.

“It’s good to eat food that’s close to the earth. Do you know what that means?”

He shook his head.

We discussed how an apple travels from the tree to his mouth. Not far if he’s picking it at the orchard in October. Only a few more steps if someone else picks it, packs it, drives it to the store, and we buy it.

“Nuggets on the other hand – they cut up the chicken, then mash it with other things and turn it into these little pieces and add chemicals to keep it fresh.”

“Chemicals?” he looked up from his plate, nugget perched in mid-air.

“Food has to stay on the shelf or freezer in the store for awhile so they add preservatives and chemicals to keep it okay until we eat it. They’re also what make it taste good. But they’re bad for you.”

He nodded and popped the rest of the nugget into his mouth.

“So what do you think is healthier?” I asked him.

“The apple.”

“Exactly.” I returned to my magazine.

“Can I have some more?” he asked a few moments later.

I looked up, distracted. “Of what?”

“Those chemical things,” he said and pointed to the remaining nuggets on the cookie sheet.

I guess he got the point.

Visiting New York City with Kids

heather — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 17:36:10 +0000

Visiting New York City with kids is easier than ever due to some exceptionally handy Apps that help you navigate the city and find age appropriate food and activities. But on a recent trip during February break, I learned two important lessons:

The world is not G-rated. It’s R.

Kid-oriented tourist attractions don’t necessary let your kid be…a kid.

Elementary School Lunch Ideas

heather — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 10:42:03 +0000

Four years ago, I wrote a blog post titled, Preschool Lunch Ideas that compiled the wisdom of my friends into a handy list of great ideas to pack in a lunchbox. To this day, it’s my most popular blog post (by far, I think this has something to do with the fact that it comes up first in Google search results) and traffic spikes every August and September as thousands of moms search for smart ways to feed their kids when they’re no longer around to control what they put into their mouths.

And let’s just call it for what it is right here and now. We cram creative, nutritious and fun food into their lunchboxes thinking we have some control over what they eat. Wrong!

Once they enter elementary school and the teacher is no longer sitting at their table coaxing them to eat their vegetables before attacking the cookie, we lose control of the lunchbox. Every day they’re herded into a cafeteria with dozens of other wide-eyed, fidgety, eager kids who care nothing for mommy’s grand plan for them to eat the vegetables and carrots first before you have your cookie.

So, last week when my youngest started Kindergarten and I volunteered to help out in the lunchroom, I decided to update my original blog post with some practical truths. The list of foods my friends gave me in 2007 is still creative and useful for elementary school children. Here are some helpful hints to accompany it:

Pack Less!

Most kids unzip a lunchbox filled with much more than they can eat. I used to be guilty of this, too, until it all came back at the end of the day. Not only do we pack too many items, but too much of each. Remember, small kids have small tummies. Daughter tells me to pack “only three things, Mommy.” Keep it simple.

Easy Open

Make sure young children can open what you pack. Many are too shy to ask or the lunchroom may not be staffed with enough aids to help out. Next thing you know, the bell rings and they haven’t eaten!

Here’s what I was asked to open my day in the caf:

Bottled water (if you don’t loosen it first, they can’t)
Gogurts (several of these)
Pudding
Organic vegetables (two hard-to-peel plastic packages. One for the veggies, another for the dip)
Straw on juice box
Plastic packaged organic cookie
Crushable fruit twistable cap

Skip Dessert

While I like the idea of my kids having a treat to delight them when they open their lunchbox, I know Daughter will go straight for it and dis the sandwich and veggies. In fact, spying Mommy watched her eat the Rice Krispie Treat first and chips second that first day of school and close the lid on the carrots and turkey. So, I skip the dessert and give it to my kids after school.

In the lunchroom, I did watch some children eat their lunches first and desserts last. But most had time to only eat a bit or two of a cookie before the bell rang.

Time is Tight

In our cafeteria, each classroom or table is called up to go through the lunch line. This means that children buying items are disrupted from eating to go buy a drink or snack or even lunch. When they return, they have even less time to eat. Pack what you can to save them from going through the line.

Attention is Tighter

Whatever we pack competes with friends at the lunch table and the general mayhem of the lunchroom. A few bites might be taken amidst the fun. I try to make them count.

Choice Matters

Last Friday, I told my kids they could buy lunch since it was pizza day. Daughter bought Apple Jacks, a cheese stick, and a yogurt.

“I couldn’t read what kind of yogurt it was so I didn’t eat it. I ate the Apple Jacks and cheese stick,” she told me after school.

Clearly, she ignored the “healthy choice” options available to her. Why not? With fun foods available, she capitalized on her ability to choose for herself and went to town. I don’t blame her. I can coach her about what to buy but at the end of the day, it’s her choice.

My choices are what to pack for her when she brings lunch and what to give her at home to offset those Apple Jacks.

While Son, in second grade, eats his sandwich and veggies; last year he went straight for the dessert.

Sometimes kids grow into smart food choices. Or not. One day, I’ll lose control of that little lunchbox, too. And I’ll probably see the slight orange stain of Doritos around somebody’s lips after school.

Car Talk

heather — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 10:43:36 +0000

For five weeks this summer, five-year-old Daughter and seven-year-old Son attended day camp from 9-3:30. Everybody loved it. My kids loved the counselors, the other kids, the field trips, the water slide, popsicles, and all the games they played.

I loved the 9 to 3:30. (It’s true, I murmured Hallelujah, but only to myself and only about ten times a day.)

One added bonus was listening in on their conversations each morning and afternoon on the way to and from camp. Somehow, kids manage to take adulthood’s most serious subjects and strip them of their, well, seriousness.

Morning Conversation #5

“Two girls can have babies and I’m going to marry Caroline,” Daughter declares, citing once again her enduring devotion to her best friend.

“No, they can’t,” Son counters.

“Yes, they can and we’re going to have five babies. And they’ll all be girls!”

“No, they can’t,” Son repeats. “You need a Mommy and a Daddy to have kids.”

“Yes, they can!”

“No, they can’t!”

Repeat five more times and then they come to blows.

Finally, Mommy jumps in from the front seat with her two cents. “Two girls or two boys can raise a baby but you need a girl and a boy to make one.” Please, oh, please, don’t let them ask what this means….

“See? I told you so,” Son says.

“See, I knew we could,” Daughter says.

Miraculously, I’ve managed to navigate that one unscathed. And this on the eve of legal gay marriage in New York. How timely of them.

Afternoon Conversation #11 (with Husband in the car)

“Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoe!”

“It’s Shoot, honey.” Two cents again.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoe!

They throw out hand gestures endlessly, seamlessly, and all is calm in the car. The kids are thrilled with this game they’ve picked up in camp. I’m amazed that while every other topic imaginable warrants competition (note the fight over who gets to be the head or tail before we even flip the coin), this old standby sails right through it. Then it gets interesting.

“Now, we can be anything!” Son announces, interjecting a twist I’ve never heard of before.

“Bananas, Car, Window!”

“Butt, Diaper, Pee Pee!” Of course.

“Penis, Vagina!”

Don’t know and can’t see what the hand gestures are for these.

“Penis wins.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does,” says Son confidently.

“Why does it win?” I ask.

Husband raises an eyebrow and mouths ‘DON’T GET INTO THIS.’

“Well,” Son explains. “The Penis runs around and chases the Vagina and then it tackles it and flattens it and wins.”

Hmmmmm.

He’s about ten miles from the truth and yet masculinity reigns. The Feminist in me squares her shoulders and turns to offer her full fifty cents from the front seat. Husband balks.

“No, the Penis and the Vagina are equals. Nobody wins.”

Silence.

“Butt, Butt, Pee Pee!” They move on.

I sit back, satisfied that the Seven Sisters have sighed in their heaven, and thankful, for once, for simple potty words. One of these days, I’m going to have to explain the whole sex thing. Not, fortunately, today.

In a week, they’ll start taking the bus to school. I suppose I’ll get some car talk on the way to soccer. But most of the good stuff will happen on the bus; out of range of Mommy’s prying ears. In the midst of hot and sweaty mayhem, they’ll make their own truths shouting, yelling, taunting, and teaching each other what’s what in the world.

And I’ll try to straighten it all out over cookies and milk at the kitchen counter.

Coming next month: Snack Talk: Lurid kid truths hot off the bus!

Parenting with Scissors

heather — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 20:37:42 +0000

Five-year-old Daughter has been trying to grow her hair long for two years. She came out bald and then sported a bowl cut until she was three. No, I wasn’t intentionally giving her a boy’s haircut. I just snipped a little here and a little there and she looked so cute with it short that it stayed that way.

Mother-in-Law said, “When are you going to grow her hair long like a girl’s?”

Doesn’t she look girlie enough now? Okay, I guess there’s some merit to long hair. We’ll let it grow.

When Daughter entered preschool, many other girls had long hair. She wanted hers long, too. Maybe their moms took extra vitamins during pregnancy or something but some of these girls can really grow their hair! (Maybe their moms didn’t go snip, snip, snip with the scissors that often during their baby and toddlerhood, either.)

Daughter’s hair struggled to reach her shoulders. It struggled to grow past them down towards the middle of her back.

“I want my hair to reach my butt,” she declared.

But with long hair come tangles and a daily battle to comb them out. We bought detangler and a new brush. Still tears.

With long hair also came a battle over when to wear it up.

“It needs to be out of your face,” I said every morning.

She agreed until the middle of her fourth year. Then she fought back. Daughter likes her hair to hang in her face. I can’t stand hair in my face. Maybe it’s a tactile memory from years spent wearing two long braids to school (I was Laura Ingalls.)

I relinquished control over how she wore it except for soccer.

“Strong girls who play sports wear their hair up! You can’t run down the field holding your hair back.”

Somehow the hair band got lost between the car and the field.

By last week, her hair was closing in on her shoulder blades and we were ready for a summer trim.

“Your hair will grow more if it’s healthy. We need to trim these dead ends.”

I bought a pair of haircutting scissors, determined to do better than the slanting bangs I gave her as a toddler and the chop, chop Frankenstein job I did on Son when he was two.

How hard can it be to trim long hair in a straight line?

Pretty hard, it turns out. She moved, I didn’t know what I was doing, her hair somehow sprung back up above her shoulders.

“You’re the worst haircutter ever!” she cried.

I felt terrible. She’d worked so hard to grow her hair out. One slip and the whole thing had to be evened up. Or had I intentionally cut it higher than she wanted? Was I subconsciously trying to control her look? Lotta good that’s going to do me in a few years.

I put her to bed and studied the slightly sad look on her face. I’d disappointed her and it was no one’s fault but my own. She did look cuter with it shorter but who was I to make that call? It was mine to make when she was three. It wouldn’t be mine to make when she was thirteen. Five wasn’t as easy a stage to define.

I worried all night. I told Husband I’d scarred her for life. He doubted this would be the defining factor in her future therapy bills.

When she woke up, Daughter was as happy and carefree as always. I’d already decided not to mention the hair. Buck up, move on, show her how to live with disappointment.

When we entered the bathroom to brush teeth before school, she looked in the mirror. “Oh, I forgot about my haircut,” she said and tried to pull it in front but there was nothing to pull.

“I’m going to wear it up today.”

Really?

“That way nobody will know it’s shorter.”

I cringed inside. I’d gotten my way but didn’t like the price. She’ll probably never trust me with a pair of scissors again. Note to self: Better to learn this lesson over a hairstyle than risk losing her trust over something greater later on.

iPad, lo Pad

heather — Wed, 18 May 2011 11:10:03 +0000

Husband gave me a Kindle for my birthday last month. Yes, I’m a little behind on that, being a writer and all, but I’ve been attached to my hardcovers. Until I “got” the hook of instant gratification for any book you want. It’s a great thing.

A couple days in, five year old Daughter pulled the Kindle from me and started touching the screen. She tapped here, she tapped there. Nothing happened. She looked at me perplexed.

“It doesn’t work like that, honey. You have to push these arrows and then this button to go somewhere.”

I’d lost her on “push.”

Good news, she doesn’t want to mess with my Kindle.

No, “Please can I watch videos?” as she begs to watch the home movies I’ve filmed on my Blackberry Storm.

No, “Please can I watch shows?” to view downloaded episodes of Max and Ruby on my iTouch.

No, “Please can I play on the computer?” where she secretly watches teasers for Tangled over and over again.

No, “Can I play Talking Tom?” on Husband’s iPhone.

Even the Wii moves when you hold it.

And while the TV is just a lazy old flat screen, it can still entertain and mesmerize in the best no touch way.

But worst of all has been her fascination with and adoration of the iPad. Because this one has it all: movies, home videos, pictures, games, animated books, piano keys, guitar chords, bowling alley, you name it! Each time she explores it, there’s a new app to discover. Sure, the iTouch and iPhone have many of these apps. They’re just much smaller. The iPad does it all at the right size.

But, alas, we limit her time on these things. Many friends of seven year old Son’s received iTouchs for Christmas and Hanukah last year. Some of Daughter’s did, too. And while I know my children are headed for a heavy texting, iChatting, Facebook future; I’m just trying to slow it down a bit. Trying to protect their time for self-propelled imagination. Hoping their desire to create will burn at least at a low flame for their whole lives.

So, with all these devices around and desire to use them, it’s refreshing that my kids spend more time doing one thing at home more than anything else: they draw. That’s crayons or markers on paper. Flat, white paper, usually with Husband’s old Powerpoints or spreadsheets, or earlier drafts of my novel, on the flip side.

Son draws baseball games, basketball games, soccer games, baseball players, specific plays, scores, well, you get the picture.

Daughter draws princesses, castles, mermaids, hearts, friends, characters and the like.

Years ago, a wise friend suggested that I put a children’s craft table in the kitchen. She said it had kept her two sons entertained every day. Bingo. It has worked like a charm for us. The table is their size, the supplies easily accessible, and all they need is a little imagination and desire to create something out of nothing. Amazing how naturally this comes to them.

So, in our house, the lowliest of pads rules: paper. You don’t just touch it or flick your finger to the right. You squiggle and scribble and ponder and plan and then tack it up on the wall or give it to someone you care about.

Imagine that.

The Greatest Show on Earth

heather — Thu, 05 May 2011 11:03:26 +0000

“Will there be trapeze?”

“Yes

“Tigers and elephants?”

“Yes.”

“High wire?”

“Sure will.”

Daughter sat back, satisfied.

I knew for sure there would be a high wire act at the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Full Throttle circus because Husband and I had checked the web site the night before. Not wanting to disappoint her as I did when I tried a lesser, much lesser show (let’s not even call it a circus), this time I hoped the greatest show on earth would exceed her expectations.

We picked Son up early from Cub Scouts and drove to the XL Center in Hartford at 4 p.m. to miss traffic and catch the pre-show when the doors opened at 6 o’clock. We arrived by 5:15 and parking was easy – there are several lots around the arena plus a garage across the street and we chose an outdoor lot to miss traffic on the way out. There’s also a handy sports bar/restaurant, Coach’s, with a children’s menu for dinner before the show (though there is so much going on inside the doors, I’d head straight to the XL Center if you arrive anytime near 6).

By 6:15 we were in the doors, the kids’ eyes popping at displays of cotton candy, snow cones in clown or tiger cups, pink twirling light up wands, circus toys, toys, and more toys! Later, we said.

First we headed to our section and down to the pre-show. On the show floor, the three rings featured various acts: a beautifully costumed performer showing dance moves, clowns, and Asia, the elephant, painting (yes, painting!) We stood up close and watched her lift a paint brush with her trunk and color the canvas with multiple colors.

But that was merely an appetizer. The main course was indeed better than we could have imagined. From the moment the Ringmaster opened the show, we were mesmerized by this gorgeous and exciting performance. Where do I start? With the parade of nine elephants and all the colorful acts that open the show to live music and a peppy score? Or the exquisite costumes, each sparkling and colorful on a troupe of beautiful performers?

I’ll give you the highlights and encourage you to visit the show in Hartford this weekend (check out the discount offered here).

The nine elephants are a stunning sight. Animal trainer, Tabayara, is the star of the show as he commands each set of animals in amazing feats. In addition to the elephants, there are three rings of horses, dancing simultaneously, and after intermission: twelve tigers (twelve!) inside a large net with him doing exactly what he asks of them – including a kiss!

The strong men are ferocious and funny and the acrobats top it all off with wonder. What about basketball on bouncing stilts? And dare I not mention the human fuse? I’ll let you discover that one.

But the highlight for us, I must say, was the high wire act.

Daughter has been talking about the high wire for months and as luck would have it, we were eye level with the five performers who climbed up to the taught wire and had us holding our breath as they somersaulted, jumped rope, stood on each other’s shoulders and bicycled back and forth. When I looked over at Daughter, she had her hands on both cheeks, staring in wonder at the feats unfolding before her eyes. I knew then that Ringling Bros. had delivered even more than I’d hoped it would.

As we left the center, our thrill meter satisfied for a good stretch, Daughter turned to me and said, “Mommy, that is the greatest show on earth.”

Yes, it was.

Big Top Boondoggle

heather — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 13:55:46 +0000

See bottom of page for Exclusive Discount on Ringling Bros Circus Next Week

Last month, Daughter came home from preschool each day with stories of tigers, elephants, trapeze artists, monkeys and…clowns. They were studying the circus! (Don’t you wish you could go back to preschool?) She cut out and painted pictures of various animals and brought home an entire circus train filled with traveling acts.

Somehow, we haven’t managed to take our kids to the circus yet so I started searching for when the big show would be in town. I Googled “Ringling Bros” and found dates for May in Hartford. That was two months away and an hour away.

Then one afternoon when we were checking books out at the library, I noticed coupons for Picadilly Circus. Kids get in free! It was close by in Danbury, Connecticut with shows at 4 pm and 7 pm the following week. How perfect, I thought. Close by, cheap – my kids would get to see the circus! I browsed the web site and it looked….like a real circus.

I told the kids and we spent a week excitedly looking forward to our first circus. Thursday afternoon, we left school promptly and drove straight to Danbury to make the 4 pm show. The location listed on the web site was the Danbury Ice Arena. There weren’t any directions so I relied on my phone’s Google Maps GPS to get us there.

“I know how we’ll be able to find it!” Daughter exclaimed as we started out. “Just look for the big top!”

“Well, honey, this one isn’t in a big top.” I tried to ease her into the small circus experience. “It’s just in a regular building.”

Boy, was that an understatement. We drove in circles (no thanks to Google Maps), asked two groups of people on the sidewalk, and finally found the square, squat building in the middle of town. We rushed from the top of the parking garage down to the sidewalk and over to a small door in the middle of the building.

When we entered the small, well worn lobby, we found a line of parents and two people taking cash for tickets at a portable table. We finally got through the line, used the bathrooms, and entered the arena.

First, it was cold (oh yeah, ice arena). To say it was one ring would be generous. We found seats on the bleachers just as the motorcycle stunt began. Then came the clowns (two with an old car), the acrobats (not too bad), and more clowns.

Daughter looked around. “Where’s the trapeze?”

“This one doesn’t have a trapeze,” I said. “But look – there’s an elephant.”

We could make out an elephant-in-waiting on the other side of the arena. This scrappy large animal was our only hope of saving the circus experience.

I watched her face as my heart sank. It hadn’t dawned on me that by trying to deliver a circus to her, any circus, I might just spoil her grand expectations. That instead of delivering on her dreams, I’d dash them.

We bought cotton candy and lemonade. We broke for intermission which was basically a push to buy tickets and ride the elephant or a small group of sad ponies. Or take your photo with the motorcyclists.

We watched the final elephant act with two young girls standing, sitting and somersaulting on him. It was pretty cool but we were scraping for excitement in an empty barrel.

On the way home, I tried to pump up our experience but couldn’t escape acknowledging that we needed to see the real circus someday.

I revisited the Picadilly web site and confirmed that most of the pictures were of exciting and fun acts that weren’t any part of the circus we attended.

And then I headed straight for Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey Circus Fully Charged at the XL Center in Hartford. We’re attending next Wed., May 4 at 7 pm and I know it will be worth the one hour drive to see the real deal.

Special Discount

I’m also excited to offer my readers an exclusive discount to the show:

SAVE $4 PER TICKET

Valid on $15, $20, $25 Price Levels (price does not include facility fee)

Valid on: Thursday, May 5^th at 10:30am and 7pm

Friday, May 6^th at 7pm

Saturday, May 7^th at 7pm

Sunday, May 8^th at 5pm

PROMO CODE: Kids

Valid: Online, via phone or the XL Center Ticket Office

Valid from March 27^th – May 8^th at 5pm

Let me know if you’re attending and I’ll look for you at the show!

And this time, we’re not telling the kids. It will be a surprise.

PS Full Disclosure

One of the perks of writing a blog for three years, is that PR firms start offering you all kinds of free products. Since that’s not the type of blog I write, I usually turn them down.

But lately, a nice woman named Patrice has started offering me free tickets to shows at the XL Center in exchange for reviewing them. The kids don’t know this, but I’ve passed up Disney on Ice and Harlem Globetrotters. But when the circus came to town, well, let’s just say I actually approached them and said, hey, I’ve got a story to write….

So, yes, we’ll be guests of the XL Center next week and I’ll write up the show the next day. Hopefully after reading my experience at the podunk circus nearby, you agree it’s a good move…. HPL

Parents R Us

heather — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 13:07:34 +0000

“Mom,” Son says, eating his ham, egg and cheese at the counter before school. “Did Daddy tell you the secret?”

“What secret, honey?”

I’m at the sink, running water over strawberries, lopping off their green tops and placing them in mini Tupper wares for the lunchbox.

“The secret about how babies are born,” he says casually.

I give him my full attention.

Husband had mentioned something the previous night about a graphic picture of childbirth in the paper.

“I had to tell him!” he said.

“What did you say?”

“That babies come out the vagina.”

“Really?! How did he take it?”

“He asked what the Knicks’ score was.”

I consider Son at the counter. “Um, yeah, I know the secret.” Does he really get this? Cuz, uh, I would kinda know.

“But that’s not the kind of thing to talk to your friends about,” I continue. “Because their parents may not have told them yet. Or your sister. You have to be old enough to understand these things. A big kid like you.”

Maybe I’m not giving her enough credit, but I don’t think five year old Daughter is ready to hear the ugly truth.

“Right.” He returns his attention to the sports scores in the paper.

That evening, the kids and I are enjoying a rare moment of calm between dinner and bedtime.

Out of the blue, Son turns to daughter. “Did Daddy tell you?”

What??????

I raise my eyebrows and give him a penetrating stare. Do you really want to do this?

“No, Mom, it’s a good thing.”

“Okayyyyyyy…..”

“When Mommy and Daddy get mad at us, it’s because they LOVE US!” His eyes are wide. He smiles brightly. This is clearly the wildest thing he’s heard.

Wow, Husband is full of revealing truths these days.

“Really?” Daughter smiles, too.

“Yeah, It’s because they LOVE US.”

Well, jeez, we could have told them this years ago.

“We get mad at you when you don’t follow the rules,” I say. “And why do we have rules? To keep you and others safe. And…”

I seize their attention like a dog with a bone. This is a teaching moment! They’re listening! What’s the meaning of life?! I set off and circle far around the rules globe until I come to the land of grand declarations and statements you should remember for the rest of your life.

“So, there are three things you should always remember,” I sum up.

What are they? What should they be? I wing it.

Number One: Take care of yourself. Be safe.

Meaning, use good judgment, make smart choices. I don’t think they get the full gist of this one.

Number Two: Be kind and respect other people, starting with your parents.

Easy

And Number Three: Find something you love and do it well.

Husband has a good laugh at no. 3 later.

There. Speech over.

They’re wiggling, have been since about two words into my monologue.

“So, what are the three things?” I ask them.

Son stares at me for a moment.

“The only thing I’m going to remember,” he finally says, “Is that the reason you get mad at us is because you love us.”

Mmmmm.

Okay. Well, at least he’s moved off that other thing about the babies.