Pretty in Pink

March 02 2010 · comment 9 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: ,

I may have mentioned once or twice or twenty times how Ethan likes to scale the kitchen counters. It’s not an exaggeration. This doesn’t just happen every now and then. No, he hones this skill on multiple occasions daily. If counter climbing was an Olympic sport, he’d be going for the gold. Usually in an attempt to obtain hidden Christmas figures in an overhead cabinet or a cereal box or to spill olive oil out of it’s bottle. That last one is fun to clean up, I might add.

He’s a daredevil, we’ve been known to explain. No matter how often or harsh I reprimand, he does it anyway. Any attention is good attention when you’re a 3 year old testing your boundaries, it seems. Still, the ebb and flow is aggravating and impossible.

Jayden never did this when he was Ethan’s age. I don’t recall Jayden trying to climb much of anything aside from a chair. To sit down. My kind of kid.

As such, it’s no surprise when I caught him on the kitchen counter yesterday morning. It’s also not much of a shock when I began to storm up to him upset and exasperated, my arms extended and ready to pry him down yet again. It was too early in the day and I wasn’t even fully awake yet.

Walking closer, however, I saw in his hand a tube of lip gloss that I had been hiding in plain sight on top of the microwave. Glancing back at me, he popped off the cap and began to draw a heavy circle along his mouth. Right as I reached him, he sat the tube carefully back in it’s not-so-discreet place. A soft pink sheen glistening in the morning light like a halo around his lips. And chin. And cheeks.

How can I be mad at that?

Date Night

March 01 2010 · comment 10 Comments
Posted in: Daily · Tags: ,

Saturday was date night. Or rather, dinner. Just the two of us. On a quest for food.

And what a quest it was. We drove to numerous places only to be discouraged at the lack of parking spaces available or long wait times. Finally, we gave up on the sit-down idea and tried our luck at a buffet instead. The line was still stretched past the door, into the frigid 30 degree weather, but it seemed to be moving at a decent enough pace. However, I wasn’t dressed for the cold. I had on a turtleneck, but a chunky knit wraparound sweater (which J refers to as my Obi-Wan sweater) in place of a heavy winter coat.

“If I knew we’d be standing outside, I would have worn a coat”, I said shivering. “Silly me, I thought we’d be sitting in someplace warm by now.”

Next date night, especially if it’s on a Saturday, I’ll be sure to make a reservation in advance.

We eventually made it through, of course, and it was nice from that point. It was quiet. It wasn’t stressful or chaotic. We didn’t have to play pickup with any of the numerous items we give Maddie during a meal to keep her occupied. I didn’t have to wrestle Ethan into his seat. We didn’t have to argue with Jayden to take a bite. We just ate and talked.

When we returned home a few hours later, I could hear Maddie laughing at Grandma from the front stoop. My heart lifted in that moment and I couldn’t wait to get inside. Very quickly, however, life returned back to normal. The kids were rambunctious and riled up, screaming and whining and loud. It was like we had never left. Next date night, along with reservations, I’ll be sure to have a few drinks, too.

Spinning It

February 25 2010 · comment 12 Comments
Posted in: Favorites, General · Tags:

What matters is how you spin it.

All of us wake up in the morning wishing for just 10 more minutes. We take whatever means necessary to pry our eyes open before we dive into work. Whether that’s outside of the home or in. Whether it’s pushing papers or pushing strollers. We care for our kids, our pets, our husbands, our business, ourselves. There are errands to run and appointments to set and deadlines to meet. We throw a dinner together and clean up and watch TV and tap away on our computers. We yearn for connections. A home too messy and tensions too tight. With the weight of the world on our shoulders, we unwind however we can. Then we put it all to bed before we start again in the morning.

Of course, there are the exceptions and curveballs. There are tragedies as there are triumphs. Life has its twists and turns, but it doesn’t bend. With luck and time, it tends to revert back to an altered state of the same.

It’s all in the way we feel. It’s how we see the mundane minutiae of the everyday. When presented with the choice, would you recall the morning laughter or the spousal argument that afternoon? Would you rather strive for the extraordinary or be content in settling for normalcy? No one way is right or wrong.

It’s how we take away what we are given.

There are kids and parents. Families and friends. Laughter and cries. Embraces and fights. Many different descriptions, but they all equal the same. What matters is how you spin it. What do you see that no one else has? What do you choose to remember? The hour to hour, day to day. The structure stays familiar, it’s who we are that renders it unique.

No matter how you spin it.

Little and Littler

February 24 2010 · comment 8 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: , ,

For the Love of Sporks

February 23 2010 · comment 10 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: ,

A normal dinner. Meat and beans, both baked and green varieties. We were seated around our living room coffee table, the setting for most of our meals. We have an actual dining table, but it’s seldom used except when company comes over, or in the morning when Ethan eats his breakfast.

Per usual, we were fighting with Jayden over a bite of greens. It takes 15 minutes to get one morsel in his mouth, and then he does the scrunchy yuck face until he manages to painfully coerce it through his gullet. I’ve never been extremely fond of vegetables myself, either, so I understand. I do. However, it’s not like I’m making him eat an entire plate of brussel sprouts. We’re lenient here, a couple mouthfuls and we consider the basic food groups sufficiently covered.

Perhaps as another means of stalling, having already tried the “I have to go to the bathroom!” route, he mentioned out of nowhere, “I wish every fork was a spork.”

You have to appreciate the boy’s creative tenacity.

Which, then led to a rash of spork-sational questions.

“Have I ever used a spork?”

“Do we have any sporks?”

“Does the store sell sporks? Because I think we should buy some.”

If it means you’ll eat your vegetables with a little more ease, or at all, I’ll agree to buy you a spork truckload.