I saw my son standing behind his sister, sticking his tongue out at her.
I pulled him into another room and said, “Don’t stick your tongue out at people. It’s not okay to do that, because it’s really not nice.”
He quickly replied, “But, it is okay, because she didn’t see me do it.”
Which means it’s okay that I took $20 from my husband’s wallet when he went to bed early. Right?
Not long ago, I mentioned to my kids that I was finished picking up their stuff. I told them that they are responsible for putting their things back where they belong. Let’s see how that’s working for me. Shall we?
Here’s a beachball, in my kitchen.
This is my dining room, which contains one pair of dirty socks…
My daughter, who will be 10 years old in December, is becoming quite sassy. That’s a nice way of saying that she’s starting to talk back. A lot.
Her attitude lately reminds me of when she was three and she began to use the word “no” in every sentence. Except now it is accompanied with enormous sighs and eye rolling.
At her school’s open house a few weeks ago, her teacher stressed the importance of responsibility to the 4th grade parents. She instructed us not to help the kids remember their homework, or help them pack their backpack, or lay their clothes out. She told us that it’s time they start doing those things on their own. I agree.
So part of the problem is that we are trying to get her to be more independent and she’s not quite sure what to make of it.
Last night, when we couldn’t find her gym uniform anywhere, she realized she had left it crumpled in the bottom of her backpack. I have told her, somewhere around a thousand times, that she must empty her book bag when she gets home from school. Mostly it’s to force her to put her ice pack back in the freezer so she doesn’t have to eat warm tuna for lunch the next day.
Since I have repeated this rule over and over again, and because I had just done all the laundry only to find she had been holding onto one, wrinkled, dirty shirt, I decided punishment was in order. Something had to be done to make her get into the habit of taking care of her stuff.
I said, “Because you didn’t empty your backpack again, and because you’re not taking care of your gym uniform like you’re supposed to, then you’re not allowed to watch TV for three days.”
And Miss Sassy replied, “Instead of three days, can you make it a week?”
Oh Sweetie, you bet I can.
Tomorrow afternoon, I am leaving for my annual girl’s trip, which we refer to as our GGW, or Girl’s Get-Away Weekend. Our husbands call it Girls Gone Wild. Hardly. Last year I got a concussion and we sat around making pot holders.
There is always a lot of planning and organization involved with stepping out of my routine and having my husband step in, but throw in having no electricity for four days…with no end in sight…and you’ll see one Mommy whose head feels like it may pop off.
We have been living in limbo since Sunday, shuttling back and forth between my Mom’s house, 20 miles from here. Thank goodness, there hasn’t been any school. There are no batteries anywhere in town, stations have run out of gas, and when I called around looking for a generator, people laughed at me.
But, our GGW house has power and we’ve spent a small fortune to rent the place…which some of us can’t even afford. Have I mentioned that I’m in the mortgage business? Regardless, this is our one opportunity each year to have a real break, recharge and eat obscene amounts of chocolate.
My husband will be busy while I’m gone, driving the kids around to various activities, all while treating every intersection like a four-way stop.
He will entertain them without the use of TV, Wii, or computer. He will continue to drive 20 minutes, each way, twice a day, to charge a battery in hopes of keeping our fish alive (we’ve only lost one, so far). And, he will have to make due without any cold food or drinks, grocery stores with doors closed to the public, and no ice available within city limits.
But, he will not be the only frazzled person in this family. Today, I have to make lists and schedules, pack my stuff…and somehow find a liquor store that’s open so I can buy my vodka. Some of us have real priorities.
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