Juggling Life

Waiting On Line (And Waiting And Waiting . . . )

Yeah, that's why we never really did this. Santa at the Christmas Concert-In-The-Park was more our style.

Inside My Tired Mind

Note: I am not a morning person. I have never been a morning person despite having gotten up with children at 6ish for 20 years. I've always wanted to be a morning person, but I don't think it's ever going to happen.

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Friday morning, 5:15 am., driving to pick up friends to to take them to the airport.

Inside my head:

How can that woman be jogging in the cold and the dark? Oh my gosh. That's the woman I always see jogging in the heat of the day--I figured she did that because she didn't like to get up early to run. She runs in the morning and at noon?! What the hell is wrong with her?!

There's another jogger?! What is it with these people?

Returning from the airport.

So this is what the sunrise looks like. Hmmm. Not really that big a deal. It's probably better if you live on the East Coast. I'd have to say that the sunsets are much better in San Diego. They happen at a much more reasonable time of day too.

HA, Penalty!

When I was growing up I always wished for a big brother--girls with brothers captivated me. They were always so self-assured. Since I have a girl with big brothers I now know just how they come by that self-assurance. It's a defense mechanism.

Way back in the day, MVP and Danger Boy had a game they played with each other. It was called "HA, Penalty!" and entailed one of them rushing at the other, tackling him and sitting on his chest as he yelled, "HA, Penalty!" Then they both laughed uproariously. You may have guessed that this was a game of their own invention.

When Social Butterfly was a baby, 7  months old, my mom took Grownup Girl and MVP to visit my sister in Washington State. They were gone for 2 weeks. Apparently 2 weeks was too long a time for Danger Boy to go without playing his favorite game. What to do, what to do?

It's not like he was completely alone--SB was around. When DB and MVP played the game they were both standing, but SB couldn't stand up yet. So she would be sitting there innocently, maybe playing with her Pop beads, when DB would rush at her, knock her over, sit on her, and yell "HA, Penalty!" And she would laugh and laugh and laugh.

Today? She is very self-assured.

A Parental Quandary And Some Family Unity

I've already sent out my Christmas cards and letter, so it's too late to edit the letter to include, "On December 17, 2008 Danger Boy became the first member of the family ever to get suspended from school." Oh well, maybe next year.

Herein lies the quandary. When a student is involved in a fight the school has no choice but to suspend the student. Even when said student didn't start the fight and was only defending himself. Sure, they can lower the punishment from a 3 to 1 day suspension and make the phone call home to the mom sound more like a call to offer congratulations on the student's politeness and cooperation and exemplary record up to this point rather than one to report a serious infraction. So (quandary) what are the parents supposed to do? Punish him for fighting/defending himself? Let the school do what they must do without comment? Fight to have the suspension remover from his permanent record in case it affects his college choices? We're leaning toward the middle option.

As there's always a silver lining; this one is the rousing defense Social Butterfly made on her brother's behalf and how she railed against the inequity of the system and the fact that she started crying when someone told her that her brother had been in a fight and was bleeding. Sibling love may not manifest itself outwardly on a daily basis, but it's nice to know it's there.

I'm going to shut down the computer now and sing Kum Ba Ya with my family.

Sequence!

Sequence. Best board game evah. Neither Danger Boy nor I like to lose so we had to go best of 37 over 3 days.

Toddlers Versus Teenagers: Keeping Them Safe

Note: I am not a panicky, fearful person. However, I do have a mind like a steel trap when it comes to remembering every story I've ever heard about a child or teen getting injured or dying by accidental means. I also think that if you know the risk you'll be more likely to avoid it. So I have a family and friends reputation of It may be that I'm known as They call me the Encyclopedia of Tragic Events. So, how do we keep them safe?

Toddlers: You watch them, as in you don't take your eyes off of them. They may have thought they were alone, but I was always watching them.

Teenagers: You can't watch them all the time. It would be bad if you did (for sure you wouldn't like what you saw sometimes). You have to hope that they have internalized the Encyclopedia of Tragic Events.

Toddlers: The dangers are things that can be controlled, for the most part. You have to be vigilant for buckets with standing water (as little as 1/4" inch!), you have to make sure their hot dogs and baby carrots are cut length-wise, not cross-wise (perfect as a plug for a toddler esophagus), yes I was the co-op food police you must make sure all balloons are mylar (you did know a latex balloon can pop and they can inhale a small piece which will cover their airway, right?), of course you want to start the helmet habit when they first hop on a big wheel, life vests must be the special ones that hold small children upright . . .  I could go on all day.

Teenagers: The danger is everywhere and the scariest part is that much of it comes from the teenagers themselves. They just don't have a lot of common sense sometimes. My response to this is to try and cover every eventuality with my cautionary tales and to make sure my kids see firsthand the effects of other kids' stupidity. To this end I will take them to visit the roadside memorials of local teens killed by speeding or drinking and driving or falling off skateboards while not wearing helmets. You do your best and then something like this happens to your friend's child and you know that a lot of keeping them safe comes down to just being lucky.

There are a lot of things about child-rearing that get easier as your children get older. I'd have to say that your worries increase exponentially when they hit the teenage years, though. Sometimes I long for the days when I was (or at least I thought I was) in control.

The Party Recap Or How Much Fun Can You Have With Total Strangers?

There will be no pictures of the dress. Danger Boy is both an impatient and untalented photographer who managed to take 15 blurry photos. Grrr. I will try again when we attend the party for the San Francisco branch in January.

I was dressed appropriately--in a knee-length black chiffon with tiered ruffles (but not too many) and a jewel neckline. A lot of the women had their hair done, but I'm not really an updo kind of gal, so I would have skipped that even if I had known. I will say that I was in the minority by not maximizing my "assets" to their fullest (think Jennifer Hudson at the Oscars when you kept thinking "oh no, they're coming out!).

In lieu of the dress, I give you toenails and earrings . . .

I've mentioned my husband gives good jewelry? These diamond chandelier earrings are even prettier in real life.

Some things I realized at the party:

I am no longer willing to "pop it likes it hot" unless I drink a bottle of Dom Perignon first. Well drinks do not do the trick. It's probably just as well.

Even if you don't know the people involved, a marriage proposal will bring tears to your eyes.

It is nice to hear what a wonderful, hard-working man your husband is and how lucky the company is to have him.

It's really all you can do to nod and smile when you're with 150 people who know each other, but not you.

Parental Rites of Passage: The Learner's Permit

Yeah, it's exactly like that--3 times and counting.

A Conversation Between Venus And Mars

Three weeks ago.

Mr. Fix-it: I guess my company does a nice holiday party at a hotel downtown.

Me: When is it?

Mr. Fix-it: I'll find out.

Me: What's the attire?

Mr. Fix-it: I'll find out.

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Two weeks ago.

Me: When is that party?

Mr. Fix-it: I'll find out.

Me: What's the attire?

Mr. Fix-it: I'll find out.

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10 days ago:

Mr. Fix-it: The party's on the 13th.

Me: Great, what's the attire?

Mr. Fix-it: I don't know.

Me: I need to know.

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7 days ago:

Me: What the hell is the attire for the party?

Mr. Fix-it: I'll find out--I'll see if there any pictures from last year.

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December 10

I'm sitting in the parking lot of an outlet mall (Loehmann's, Nordstrom Rack and Marshalls) near my college.

Me (on the phone): What. Is. The. Attire. For. The. Party?

Mr. Fix-it (to another guy): My wife wants to know what type of dress to wear to the party.

Other guy: Just whatever.

Mr. Fix-it: He says whatever.

Me (through clenched teeth): I heard him. I doubt that's true. I NEED to know what kind of dress to get.

Mr. Fix-it: I'll ask Shannon tomorrow.

Me: You do realize we're talking about a party that is happening 3 days from now? I don't think you realize what buying a dress entails. I need to know. NOW.

Mr. Fix-it: Hmmm. The receptionist is still here--do you want to talk to her?

And so I did, and the answer was that the President of the company usually wears a tux and his wife does a long dress, but most of the women do cocktail dresses, and a few even do dressy slacks. Now hard was that?

In Which I Have To Set Some People Straight

Growing up and raising kids in San Diego means I've spent a lot of time at the beach. When the kids were young we went at least weekly during warm weather. Because I'm a "the more the merrier" person I usually had at least a couple of kids besides my own.

One particular beach outing stands out. It was early in the year for the beach--probably early April. It was too cold for swimming, but perfect for digging in the sand and not crowded at all. In fact when I got there with MVP, Danger Boy and 3 of their friends, we had the beach to ourselves. We set up camp near a lifeguard tower--still not open for the season. Unlike the tower in the picture though, the one we were at was situated atop a huge pile of sand.

Not too long after we got there a group of 3 women set up camp on the opposite side of the tower, Each woman was accompanied by a sweet little girl.

So, there was me and 5 boys ranging in age from 2 to 5 on one side and the 3 women and their daughters on the other side.

My boys proceeded to do what any group of blue-blooded boys would do given a pile of sand and a lifeguard tower. Climb the sand hill, scale up the railing on the tower, climb as high as they can get, and jump from the top. I mean, what else are you going to do? They were having a ball.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the tower, 3 little girls happily filled up their buckets with sand and then dumped them out, never moving off their towels. Their moms watched them and talked. About me. Well, not me per se, but the mom that was letting the boys behave in such a reckless and dangerous manner. The mom who should be teaching the boys how to behave instead of letting them climb and jump all over the place and holler while they were doing it.

I let them talk for a while. Then I thought I'd join in the conversation. I walked to their side of tower and said, "Hi, I thought I'd introduce myself. I'm Jenn and I'm the mother of those boys. I'm guessing that these little girls are your only children." Slack-jawed staring was my response. "You may not realize this, but boys and girls play very differently. What these boys are doing is normal--this is how boys play. And my hearing is normal too, so I've heard everything you've said. If you're going to talk trash about people, you might want to keep your voices down."

They didn't stay much longer.