Archive for the ‘family’ Tag
June 08 2010
I’ve been known to make fun of my mom for her poor memory. If I tell her something today, I’ll most likely have to tell her again tomorrow. She’s going on 65 years old, though, she’s allowed a few gaps. There’s a lot of years there to remember. I’m barely over 30, what’s my excuse?
I blame the kids.
Last Sunday, my mom asked if I could buy her a newspaper. They weren’t going out that day and she likes to skim through the coupons. She said she’ll pick it up on Thursday, when she has to watch Jedi and Abby while I take Buzz to his speech class.
On Thursday, I remind my mom that I have her paper. “Don’t let me forget to give it to you when we come back”, I told her. Which is kind of like the blind leading the blind. She didn’t have to, but she insisted on reimbursing the $2 the paper cost before we left.
A short time later, we return from Buzz’s speech class. I sit and have a cold drink with my parents as Abby jumps in my arms. We watch a few minutes of television and talk about how things went. Goodbyes are said. It feels like I’m forgetting something, but I can’t place what. Hours after they’ve left for home, I look over and realize.
Not only did she pay me $2, but I still have her paper.
Watch out Bernie Madoff, there’s a new scam artist in town. Now if I can just remember where I put the money.
May 28 2010
My parents were over the other day for awhile. Jedi happily ran around them, telling imaginative tales and wanting to share toys. He handed my dad one of his many plastic guns and they boom boom boomed for a few minutes from the comfort of our couch. The entire time I could practically hear my mother as she huffed and puffed and shook her head in disapproval.
My son likes guns.
He’s a boy, though. He likes pistols and tanks and Army men and semi-automatic weapons and camouflage and bombs and blood and stuff that blows up and zombies. All with lights! and live-action sounds! He’s not violent, he never pretends to shoot real people, just monsters and imaginary bad guys. Of course I would prefer that he took up cupcake decorating, but it goes without saying by now that I lost that battle. Instead, I let it go. I made sure that Jedi knows the difference between a REAL gun and a TOY gun and what might happen if he were to ever play with a REAL gun. I’ve said it over and over, and will continue to reiterate, you never ever play with a REAL gun. Ever.
There is no point in huffing and puffing and shaking your head in disapproval. I know where she’s coming from, I do, I was the same, but if I can let it go then she should, too. Or else I might have to remind her how my brother used to hide in trees and shoot people on a golf course with a BB gun they gave him. If she really wants to shake her head over something, shake it over that.
May 03 2010
We’ve always done the same kind of party for each of the kids’ birthdays: the night before the festivities begin we fill enough helium balloons to encompass a room, shiny streamers are strung, and presents wearily wrapped. The day of, the first one to rise wakes up everyone else. Then we lumber into the living room as a group, where little eyes grow wide at the multi-color floating orbs and presents wait to be unwrapped.
Later in the day, my family comes over for a quaint get-together. My brother had to work this time, he’ll be over later this week instead, so it was a late afternoon with my parents. J fixed hot dogs on the grill, Buzz opened more gifts, then it was time to sing “Happy Birthday” with candled chocolate cake and ice cream.
I hear of these soirees with extravagant themes and houses full of relatives eager to celebrate. We don’t have a close extended family, to say the least. The last time I saw any aunts, uncles or cousins was at a funeral 7 years ago, most of whom I didn’t even recognize. I sometimes worry if I’m doing my kids a disservice by not having that. We all worry about something, right?
But then they’re happy and they’re loved and they know it. That’s what counts. Buzz had a great time, without any idea of what he might have been missing. We’re in the same boat, actually, because I never had that kind of party growing up, either. I was lucky if my grandparents even sent a card. At least my children will never have to worry about that. Their grandparents think they’re pretty awesome. I tend to agree.
March 16 2010
When we had Buzz’s evaluation for speech therapy last Thursday, the other kids spent the time with Grandma and Grandpa. Obviously, it’s best if Buzz didn’t have any other distractions, and his brother and sister getting into everything would have definitely been a distraction.
I was making waffles for Jedi that morning. Although, to be fair, Eggo made the waffles, I just heated them up. But that takes a lot of work. Like button pushing and everything. I’m worn out just thinking about it.
As I’m slaving over his waffles, I let Jedi in on the day’s plans.
“Grandma and Grandpa are going to be here to spend some time with you later.”, I said cheerily, hoping he might take the news better that way. Not that he had any reason to react harshly, I was just afraid he may have been getting tired of seeing them since they’d been over quite a bit recently.
“Why?”, he wondered.
After I explained where we needed to go with Buzz and why, I asked for Jedi’s take on the situation. More to be polite and continue conversation, since it was going to happen whether he liked it or not. Apparently, however, all my worry was for naught.
“Yeah, that’s good.”, he replied. “I like spending time with Grandma and Grandpa. They’re a lot more fun than you.”
Let’s see if I ever make him waffles again.
March 15 2010
We had another dinner celebration on Saturday for my dad’s 77th birthday. Since my brother was coordinating this go round, it was supposed to take place at his apartment. It would have been too easy if it actually did.
On the way over, my parents get a flat tire and pull off to the side of the road. Which they tried to call me about, but I couldn’t find my phone in time. When I called back, I heard about 2 seconds of my dad snapping in the background before he accidentally hung up on me. Something’s up, I thought, so I called back again. It went straight to voicemail. And again. And again.
A few minutes later, my brother calls. “Mom and dad are trying to get through to you.”
You know, if people would ANSWER THEIR PHONE.
Luckily, by that point, some guys had stopped to help. We tell them we’re on our way over to them anyway, in case they need anything. They call again a few minutes later to say they were able to make it back home. Fine, we’ll stop off to get you a can of Fix-a-Flat and we’ll be over.
My brother calls. Change of plans, obviously. They’re bringing the food and everything over to my parents’ house.
My parents’ house, which hasn’t been kid friendly in a long time. My parents’ house, with all kinds of knockables and breakables and hazardous chemicals lying about. My parents’ house, which we usually try to avoid for these reasons. My parents house, which is about to be taken over by 5 kids ages 8 and under, not including Abby since she wouldn’t leave my side. Everybody else was running crazy. All of this for a couple sloppy joe sandwiches and potato chips, which of course my kids refused to eat. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD. AGAIN. I’m going home.
