Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Kids are brats

I really have a thing about kids - I LOVE my own, but you have to be a pretty special kid otherwise for me to think you aren't a brat. I am convinced that most kids are - sorry, they are!

Matt came home from school today - second grade - very upset. Apparently a girl from school called him a "Idiot and a weinerhead" today on the playground. She went on the call other kids several other unkind names, including "Dufus and moron".

She went to the principal, but upon further investigation, I've found out that this kid is a serial brat. So you know this behavior is acceptable at home and nothing will be done about it.

Kids.....so not ok.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Great book!

I've been reading a ton lately. I'm not sure when I fit it in, but I take my book with me to pick up the kids, to drop off the kids, to pick up the kids, to drop off the kids.....I think you catch my drift. A page here, a page there - they add up!

My latest read is "Loving Frank" by Nancy Horan. It is a historical fiction book - ie, there are facts and there is fiction so you learn something, but it is told in a way that makes it interesting!

This is a story about a portion of the life of the famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright. I knew very little about Frank aside from the books the King has bought and a trip we took to a house Frank built in Phoenix that is now museum/national landmark. Pretty cool!

Anyway, from page 1 I loved this book. And since I had NO IDEA what Frank's life was about, it was riveting to me.

If you like books that entertain and teach (my favorites) go quickly to the bookstore and get this book.

If you read it let me know what you think!

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Busy Weekend

This weekend was a busy one - and while it isn't quite over, we are in the home stretch.

Liv had three softball and one soccer game yesterday, Matt had his opening day Little League Parade, and then today Liv had another softball game, Matt had his first Little League game of the season, and in a few minutes Grace has softball practice. This busy schedule is even more compounded by the fact that the King coaches both Grace and Matt, so we always have to split up on weekends to get everyone where they need to be.

Today was a perfect example. Everyone was up, having breakfast and I was laying out the plan for the day. THis is mostly for the King's benefit since he has absolutely no idea what is happening or where he has to be when, and would likely sit on the couch all day if I didn't give him the play by play. I would take Liv to her game, the King would take Matt, Grace would go to our neighbor's house so as not to have to kill herself today watching another game, and then if Liv's game ended in time, I'd race back to town to see some of Matt's game.

Always just wanting to be sure he knows the full and complete deal, Matt came into the bathroom while I was drying my hair, to recap, if you will, the upcoming haps for the day. I once again outlined things for him, he seemed clear on it all, and left.

Moments later he reappeared.

"Mom, I think I get it, but I just want to be sure. You are going to try to make it to the bottom tail of my game, right?"

All I could do was run over to him and squeeze him as tight as I could. Love that kid.

Friday, March 13, 2009


Hey Kevin -

This blog is for you. I heard the words to this song "Let's Dance" by Lady Gaga in the car today and I started laughing so hard. You know why, right?

Way, way back in the day, shortly after I broke up with my fiance, was just getting to know the King, was about to become homeless and desperately needed a place to live, Dan introduced me to one of his best friends, Kevin. Kevin also needed a place to live, the King explained. Perhaps you could live together? Kevin seemed like a nice enough guy, I didn't have a lot of options, so I jumped at the chance.

We went out looking at apartments, after seeing lots of dumps, we finally settled on a dump on the upper east side of Manhattan. The King had decided that although he liked me, he wasn't going to jump into a "living with her situation" so Kevin and I signed the lease (I think, or maybe it was just me) and in we moved to our five story walk-up apartment (that means NO ELEVATOR). In the back our our minds we both knew that the King would spend most of his time there, and indeed he did.

Anyway, one weekend, we did the usual. Sleep all day, get up and go out to the bars. Where inevitably the King would pick a fight with me and I would leave the bar crying and go home. Which on this night, is exactly what happened.

I'm back in the apartment, feeling sorry for myself, when I hear keys fumbling in the door and in walks Kevin - but not regular Kevin. What I see is soaking wet, filthy dirty Kevin, looking amazingly disheveled, standing there WITH HIS SHIRT ON INSIDE OUT.

I stood for a moment taking it in before I asked "What the hell happened to you?"

The explanation was long and relatively incoherent, but if I recall it involved Kevin losing his keys, attempting to climb the fire escape, falling in a puddle, having the police called on a neighbor who saw him climbing the first escape, blah blah blah.

All I know is that we did a quick evaluation of the situation, realized it was way too early, Kevin changed his clothes and we went back out to the bars.

Hmmmm....what really happened that night is a question I guess we'll never know the answer to.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Follow up

As a follow up to yesterday's post, after reading Matt's email, I did actually have him go on this playdate. The family is a great one, he loves the kid, and I wasn't even sure these stories of being robbed were true. In any case, I felt okay with having him go, but knew I needed to handle this carefully.

So before school, I called him upstairs to talk privately. After reassuring him that Daddy and I would never send him anywhere unsafe, I told him that in the future, I would give him 24 hours to think over a playdate request rather than accepting on the spot, but that if he did say yes, he had to go.

And you know what he did? He said "OK Mom!", ran downstairs, got his shoes on and headed off on his happy day. Had a ball at the playdate, the mother declared my freaky son to be a delight, and we didn't speak of the email again.

Until the next time he gets his freak on........

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Let's Try This Again

Folks, I fell off the wagon. No excuses. I'm going to try harder. I really am.

Here goes.

I am dealing with a new problem over here at the house. Let me tell you about it.

In our house, we stress communication. We tell the kids that it is important, that you have to talk, tell us what is happening, be honest, etc. And I have to say the kids are good about it. So far, even Olivia at 12, is still happy to talk to us, tell us things that are happening, etc.

Matt, on the other hand, has taken this communication thing to a new, and very very annoying, level. At 7, he is going through a little bit of a "nervous" stage - nervous about changes to the routine, about going to people's houses he doesn't know........blah blah. I'm not all that sympathetic I must say. Especially if when he gets his freak on, I have to change my plans to accommodate the freakness. Not good.

I assume that he realizes that this irritates me. So he has come up with a new method.

He emails me his feelings. Yup. That's right. He has a little hotmail account with just family members in it, and unfortunately, I am in there. So he parks his little butt down, and writes me a note containing his deepest feelings, and sends it to me. As he does this, I am downstairs. I am actually in the house.

Here is the latest:

"hi mom i know that were having a playdate but im just sortuve freaked out and i bet you would get freaked out to if you heard this this is alote of times to get because in califonia theres not alote of people that get robbed here shes gotten robbed twice one time they got robbed 700 dollars and then the second time semeone broke into there house and stole there game system like a wii or something i think it was a wii she told and to not tell anybody else because shes not supposed to talk about it not that i dont want to go im just a little nervous because i havent really been in a house that small"

Anyone out there a therapist? I'm thinking I might need one.