Who Is Watching These Kids?

I’ve been trying to keep my daughter busy, I really have. But with her big brother at camp, it’s been a challenge. She’s crafty and artistic, which can be good. Or terrifying. Imagine my surprise at our newly painted front walk.

What is that?

What?

On the sidewalk.

Paint.

Paint?

Sidewalk paint.

Where did you get it?

I made it.

You made it? Out of what?

I don’t know — cornstarch.

Does it wash off?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Pretty sure.

Yesterday she melted crayons into the deck. At least this time it’s in the front, which if it does not wash off, provides the added bonus of pissing off the neighbors.

More of the Madness:

• A Case for Arts in Education
• Can We Listen to Hot Mix Now?
• Conservationist Rednecks in Training

We’ve Made it Past the Fourth of July

It’s really summer now – we’re deep into the heat of sunburn, the thick of the humidity. And what does that mean for parents everywhere? In my experience we fall out into two camps.

Parent A:  I can’t believe summer vacation is half over already! I’m starting to miss them just thinking of school starting again. It really is true – they grow up so fast. Treasure every moment!

Parent B: I cant’ believe I haven’t been institutionalized already. Actually, that might be a welcome rest. Only six weeks to go. I will make it. I will, right?

Which parent are you? On a given day?

Camping, Anyone?

This is the June edition of the print version of After the Bubbly, an award winning family humor column. If you’d like to see it in a local publication, let me know and I’ll do my best to get it there!

It was the hottest day of the year. Naturally, we decided to camp. But first, for added amusement, we spent the entire ninety-plus degree day on the lake with friends. All day we soaked in the sun and its glare off the water. Grown ups quenched thirst with beer while kids gorged on Cheetos and orange soda. We all got sunburned. As the hour got later, and hotter, friends questioned our choice to sleep in a tent. But we truly believed it would be fun.

Around six, when everyone else docked their boats and headed for the air-conditioned Nirvana of their suburban homes, we trailered up and parked ourselves at the campsite. A friend waved goodbye, saying “I’ll be thinking of you—tonight, when I flip my pillow over to the cool side.”

But we knew. We KNEW how to have fun. Not like those wimpy home bodies. We had hotdogs and tater salad and all the makings for perfect s’mores. First, we built a fire. My husband thinks of everything. Nevermind it was ninety-five degrees without a breeze. How else would we cook the hotdogs? While the fire blazed, the kids complained. Even the lake—by now one huge bathtub—offered no comfort. I gave my children ice from the cooler, which they rubbed on their reddened skin. The dog hung his head.

“It’ll be find once the sun goes down,” my husband reassured.

But he was wrong. Somehow the temperature increased after sundown. Even melted chocolate and marshmallow could not lift our spirits. In the darkness, we sat—around the place where the obligatory campfire had been. When it got too hot to expend the energy necessary to make up stories, we went bed. And by bed, I mean the ground, cushioned by a thick layer of nylon tent floor. Our spacious four-man (yeah, right) tent offered the added benefit of trapping the now liquid air.

The children and I whined and feverishly fanned ourselves with paper plates. Finally, we pleaded with my husband to go home. He wouldn’t hear of it.

“It won’t be so hot if you quit complaining.”

Our protests affect the air temperature, apparently. But you know what they say: pick your battles. So I sucked it up and persuaded the kids to do the same. We suffered in silence until I felt I might actually suffocate. I sat up and pressed my face next to the tent “window”, hoping to get some oxygen through the nylon mesh.

“What are you doing?” my husband asked.

“Oh, nothing, Babe. Just breathing.”

That’s all it took—fear of spousal asphyxiation—to convince my husband it was time to go. The kids leaped into action. In the dark we packed the boat in record time. Our quickness was fueled by the joyful anticipation of sweet, cool A/C. I swear the dog smiled. Five minutes out of the campsite the air temperature dropped ten degrees. But that was nothing compared to the icy cotton at home, on the flipside of my pillow.

Are We There Yet?

This is the July edition of the print version of After the Bubbly, an award winning family humor column. If you’d like to see it in a local publication, let me know and I’ll do my best to get it there!

Are We There Yet?

This year I bought airline tickets for August in April, which made me wonder when summer vacation changed from a time of pure freedom to just another set of squares on the calendar to coordinate. After a frustrating afternoon working out travel details, I realized there is a life cycle to summer vacation.

When we were kids the last day of school and the first day of the next year may as well have been decades apart. Life consisted of trips, reading lists, and sleeping in. We lived for waterslides, watermelon, and trout fishing. The end of summer was too far into the future to imagine. Just like those long car trips where we simply could not help ourselves from asking, are we there yet? Read more

Countdown to August 18th

It gets marked on the calendar every spring as the last day of school approaches. I’m talking of course about the first day of school. This little ray of sunshine is what gets us through the sweaty days of summer. The little box of happiness is very close on my planner…

I learned a trick from a friend when my kids started school that I have used ever since. Two weeks before school actually starts we get back into the routine. In our house that comes down to this: going to bed and getting up on time, and video game and TV access.

All Summer I could care less what time the kids get to bed, as long as it’s before I do. We sleep in late and take each day as it comes. This is a major luxury of not working or working at home. I also let them numb their minds on video games and TV. Because really, it’s hot, you can only go to the lake or the pool so many times before they get an ear infection, and it keeps them quiet. However, I almost died last month when I picked up my son from his grandparents to see he’d logged 60 hours on his new Mario Brothers Game on the DS. 60 hours. In two weeks. That’s more than I work.

I broke the news yesterday over breakfast.

To bed at 8, up at 6, and no TV or video games during the week.

My son’s face nearly melted.

But it’s still summer!

Ha! Not for long, kid, not for long.

Glimpses of an Ozark Holiday

• seeing a guy from the Pressley Music Jamboree billboard in Wal-Mart (sans toothy grin)
• getting the kids up on water-skis and making them fall off the Ninja (innertube thingy
• being unable to pull my husband out of the water despite ‘giving her all she’s got’
• midnight fishing
• 2am call from alarm company, police are dispatched to our home (just a power outage)
• eating with our hands at the Dixie Stampede
• seeing my husband’s face after riding the big coaster with the boy at Silver Dollar City
• watching my son literally fill up his tray at the lunch buffet (more on this later)
• getting stuck in a storm on Table Rock Lake
• watching my son clogging on stage with the dancing girls
• spending an entire day in an amusement park soaked to dripping
• feeling like a supermodel by comparison to the general public in said amusement park
• walking uphill on deck of the Titanic at the world’s largest museum exhibit (so they say…)
• realizing at the end of the day on the lake that my husband’s glasses we not on board
• learning that almost everything in Branson comes with a ‘dinner attraction’
• learning my new favorite quote, shouted over the balcony of a nearby cabin to the circle of folding lawnchairs below:”Hey grandpa – you want another beer?”
• motivating a chuckle from the Wal-Mart optical department
  “Lost your glasses in the lake? No, we’ve never heard that one before.”

I thinks it’s important to note that it all begins and ends at Wal-Mart. Even on vacation.

Do You Bikini?

I was in a dressing room a few years ago trying on swimsuits when I overheard a woman in the stall next to me tell her friend:

“No bikinis. I’m over thirty. No one wants to see that.”

This is what comforts me when I feel sorry for myself that I can’t won’t wear a bikini. I am not alone. Because really, what I got? It’s perfectly attractive when covered by a quality fabric, but you do not want to see that stuff all hangin’ out. Just ask my kids.

They laugh hysterically when they see me in my respectable-mom-coverage style tank-ini. They poke at the squishy bits and marvel at my wrinkly belly skin. EW! they squeal. I remind them they are the ones who made me that way. The little traitors.

Sometimes I see bikini-clad women at the pool who are my age. I don’t live in LA, or near a coast, or in a place with very high health standards for that matter. Sometimes I look at these women with admiration. I love what my best Mississippi girlfriend calls their ‘don’t-give-a-f*#!-ness’.

But usually I just think Ew, No one wants to see that!

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as part of a sweepstakes sponsored by BOCA.

Who Said Summer Was For Sleeping In?

As recently as a couple of years ago, my summers were a piece of cake. The kids and I slept in, lounged around in PJs ’till who knew when, and then poked around for something to do. The pool, perhaps. I read lots of books.

Now the kids are 8 and 10 and my summer leisure has been replaced by carting them around to all the things that will keep them from driving me insane for the next ten weeks. Not that I’m counting. In addition to trying to keep them engaged and interested in something other than TV and Nintendo DS screens, I am also attempting to get my work done, which means I have had to become the picture of super-organization.

Mornings for me now include a quick run before the kids get out of bed, double and triple checking the calendar, lining up the day’s food options, and tossing in a load of laundry (because there seems to be a whole lot more of it lately). Then I taxi and entertain, invite the friends over, referee sibling spats, and squeeze out my freelance writing commitments, five minutes at a time. Then it’s time for lunch. Afterwards, if we are all still breathing: round two.

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as part of a contest sponsored by KRAFT BAGEL-FULS.

Take Baby Steps to Sanity

Well, it is here. Summer. I have dropped of the kids with teacher gifts in hand and completed the last of my home mom duties. At 3:00 today I will no longer enjoy the freedom of my days. To write at home or at Starbucks? To work out now or later? To hear myself think? All that will be over in a few short hours. Are you getting nervous? Fear not – I have teamed up with Life+Kids to offer Summer Sanity Tips! Each day this summer I will be posting a quick tip to help you make it through in one piece. God willing.

More summerful resources:

Travel:
Traveling With Kids: The St. Louis Arch
Traveling With Kids: Children Flying Alone
Traveling With Kids: The Beach
Traveling With Kids: How To Fly With KidsTraveling With Kids: All-Inclusive Family Vacations
Family Camps: Summer Camp for the Whole Family

Food:
Momma Knows: Meal Assembly Services
Family Favorite: Best Taco & Tortilla Soup Recipes
Rosemary Beef Skewers Rock!

Summer Camp:
All About SIG – Summer Institute For The Gifted
How To Choose a Summer Camp for Gifted Children
How To Choose a Summer Camp for Your Child

Sanity in General:
How To Host a Balloon Themed Party
How To Deal With Back Talk
How To Celebrate Father’s Day
How To Create a Babysitter Checklist and Keep Your Sanity While Away From Home
Keep Kids Safe From Strangers in SummerHow To Play With Your Kids

Are You Ready?

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