Elise’s 5th birthday is coming up next month, and I’ve been in a bit of denial. Not in denial that my first-born is turning 5, but denial that there may be a birthday party I’d need to do something about.
You know, put something together or something.
The problem is, I spent her last 2 birthdays planning elaborate home birthday parties—with THEMES—and going all out birthday insanity style. For instance, last year I made invitations that looked like real jungle safari passports, complete with small photo of the invited friend. We had safari hats, play binoculars and a hunt for hidden animal figurines in the backyard. Clearly, I was sick in the head and bitten by some rabid animal.
This year, my creative party-planning brain seems to be AWOL. (Apparently, this part of the brain also took the Motivation to Clean and Serenity Now parts of the brain along with it.) (Read more…)
You know those days (weeks, months) when you’re bogged down with everyone else’s needs and wants? When you’re fixing a million meals and washing your kids’ mountains of clothes and dealing with their emotional meltdowns, wondering, what have I done? Why did I decide to embark on this family thing? It sucks.
I have the antidote. Assuming you’re lucky enough to have owned some video recording device over the past several years, that is.
Put in some home movies, sit down and really watch them.
Recently I’ve had a bit of a bad attitude about parenting. Or, I should say that daily I flip-flop multiple times between contented appreciation and grumbling dissatisfaction.
One day recently, however, Milo and Belle found an old DVD they wanted to watch. Of themselves. They popped it in and I stopped what I was doing (undoubtedly picking socks off the floor or folding something), mesmerized.
There were Milo and Belle, three years younger, with chubbier cheeks and warbly voices and earnest little faces. Watching it all unfurl on TV, I could stand back and see, actually see my children. (Read more…)
I have often remarked about the speed at which my children are growing up. It seems like only yesterday they were running to and fro, flinging toys, fluctuating between idyllic angels and screaming devils. Only, it wasn’t yesterday. It has been at least five years since we’ve had a toddler in the house, and I am grossly out of practice.
In the category of “The things Lisa does to entertain herself and others while paying for her many trips to Trader Joes” I’ve recently started teaching a creative drama class for pre-schoolers. For an hour I have the pleasure of telling stories, singing songs, wiggling around and making crafts alongside a delightful group of twelve 3-year-olds. It’s become apparent, however, how complacent I’ve gotten - used to communicating with my children as if they were small adults – and I’ve lost track of some of the cardinal rules of early childhood. For example, putting two containers of glue on the table for three children to share will not work (glue is a prized possession and one must have total control, or suffer the shrieking consequences). No matter how engaging the story may be, if it goes to long, they are outta’ there. There is no sitting quietly out of politeness. Putting on a costume for dress up time is easy – talking a child into taking it off even after all the other children have gone home, not so much. (Read more…)
I was shopping the other day and saw something that immediately brought me back to childhood: a Fisher-Price Chatter Telephone. You know the model: rotary dial, orange handset, and googly eyes that toggle back and forth when you roll it across the floor. I was tempted to get one for daughter F. Why should she be denied what every 1970s and 1980s church Sunday school had in multiples? Then I thought: wait.
She’s not going to know what this is. Even during my childhood, rotary dial was fading quickly. My grandmother still had hers, which she dialed with the stub of a pencil. I still remember the chugging noise it made, and how long the process of dialing took, especially if the number contained zero’s. And if you were too exuberant with the thing, and swung that heavy handset carelessly toward your mouth, you could give yourself a fat lip.
My cell phone has caused me occasional irritation, but it’s never hit me.
Anything flat and rectangular is far more familiar to F. as being “phone” than this toy ever would be. A deck of cards, a television remote, a graham cracker: all these things can (and have) been “dialed” in our household.
Yes, the toy aisle needs some updating. How about a Fisher-Price Wireless Router? It would have a row of flashing lights (Read more…)
Some people prefer electric guitar; others can’t get enough drums, while a certain set loves the cool grooves of the bass. My kid? Her preferred instrument is the Doot Doot.
What? You’ve never heard of the Doot Doot? Spicy Girl has been taking Doot Doot lessons at the hand of the master (my hubby) since she was just over a year old. And now that she’s three – well. I’m not one to brag, but she is a damn Doot Doot virtuoso.
If you want to get your child introduced to this musical instrument, you don’t even have to leave your house. Do you buy it on-line? Nope. You actually have one in every bathroom in your home, and probably in the kitchen too! And, you’ll be happy to know that even the most high-end Doot Doot won’t break the bank.
OK! OK! I admit it; a Doot Doot isn’t a real instrument. You can’t play it in any orchestra, and they don’t teach it at the world’s great conservatories. It’s the tube on the inside of your toilet paper roll. There, I said it. It’s the cardboard tube. (Read more…)
