It's my story and I'm sticking to it...

Signs

A friend recently suggested that the strange run of bad luck that has befallen my family since we moved to North Carolina at the end of 2010 is actually a series of signs that we should not have moved here. Signs that, according to my friend, I have chosen to ignore. On the surface, it may seem as if she has a point. I mean, since December Frank cut his wrist with a box cutter, both kids had the flu, a cold and a stomach virus in one two week period (while they were on vacation from school) I tore the ACL and meniscus in my left knee and had to have surgery and two weeks ago Kaitlyn broke her wrist. But, signs are subjective. The signs I have chosen to see tell me that we have ended up exactly where we are supposed to be. Signs such as the fact that the people who we bought our house from lived on Long Island two towns over from us. And the fact that they had two children, a son and a daughter. And two corn snakes, a chinchilla and a bird (and just recently acquired a bearded dragon). And they had a grandfather clock in the exact spot where we put ours. So, are these signs? Or coincidences? And does making them one or another really change anything?

Like crack for middle aged women...

The age of innocence

Today I told Kaitlyn that someone knocked over her snowman the night before. 'Why do you think that?' she asked. 'Well', I said, 'snowmen don't just fall over like that. That's a pretty big snowman'.

'No, I don't think so Momma, I think it just fell over. It was really heavy. Too heavy to pick up'.

Ok, so who am I to argue with her. I wish she would be able to think the best of everyone forever. Maybe she will. Unfortunately, the pessimist in me thinks the world will show her otherwise soon enough. Hopefully I can be there to help her keep it all in perspective. Until then, I am happy to let her be the optimist that she is.

1.11

The good stuff I find in my email

I'm sure I am like light years behind on discovering this, but it's still really cool  

A palindrome reads the same backwards as forward. This video reads
 the exact opposite backwards as forward.  Not only does it read the
 opposite, the meaning is the exact opposite.

 This is only a 1 minute, 44 second video and it is brilliant.   Make
 sure you read as well as listen.forward and backward.

 This is a video that was submitted in a contest by a 20-year old.
 The contest was titled "u @ 50"  by  AARP. This video won second
 place. When they showed it, everyone in the room was awe-struck and
 broke into spontaneous applause.  So simple and yet so brilliant. Take
 a minute and watch it.

Lost Generation

(sorry-can't figure out how to get this to come in better)

Balloon animals gone bad

DSC_3449

DSC_3450

molten rock?...drug addled brain?...science experiment gone bad?...

I'll take your best guess

DSC_3388

oh yes, you know it's coming...

As hell freezes over

You know the state of television is bad when you here the following five words out of my mouth:

"what's on that sports channel?"

Like fielding hand-grenades

My kids seem to have decided at some meeting I was not privy to, that Mommy will get all the tough questions and Daddy will get all the 'softballs'.

Todays' question, courtesy of 8 year old Aidan was "Mommy, why are people afraid of death?" (Excuse me while I choke on my heart). Ok, hmmm, ok,,,hear we go. 'Well Aidan, even though we know what happens when we die (cough, cough, cough) we don't actually know what it's like until it happens. It's like when you go to the doctor. If you know you are going to get a pinch (mommy-speak for 'SHOT'), you are not worried. If you know you are going to get a pinch, you get more nervous, but you've had one before and you know what to expect. If you don't know if you're getting a pinch, you get even more nervous because know you don't know what to expect and you spend all the time before your appointment worrying about what's going to happen when you get there. So people fear death because  they fear the uncertainty'. Notice how I skillfully bypassed all the 'oh, maybe it's because we don't know if we believe all the stuff we are feeding you about life after death, and your soul and seeing everyone again in heaven. I just pranced right on by the leaving your family and friends and life you've spent years building. Nah. It's just like getting a shot. Only eternal. Ok, so apparently happy with that glossy repsonse the conversation proceeds as such:

 

A: Mommy? Why don't Leprachauns die?

M: I didn't know they didn't. I suppose it's because they are magic. (and that they really don't exist)

A: Does Santa ever die?

M: Noooooo

A: Well, he started as a boy right (Thank you 'The Year without a Santa Claus)

M: Yes. But then he had magic too. That's when he became Santa Claus

A: Well, then I want that magic for our family and friends so that we never die.

 

Oh, I'm sorry Aidan. Mommy didn't hear you. I was too busy ripping my heart out of my chest. Mind you, this conversation took place in the car, in the time it took to pull into the driveway, get out of the car and walk up to the front door. I couldn't unlock it fast enough.

 

And Daddy's question of the day? Delivered from my dear daughter. "Daddy? How do doorknobs work".

 

 

 

Bad things can happen to little boys...

That, is the lesson I taught my son last night. I didn't set out to teach him that; to bring life's realities crashing around his head. I meant really to right what I felt was a parenting wrong. Instead, I made him sad, anxious and probably afraid. And yes, I did all this at bedtime. WHAT was I thinking???

Here's what went down. About a week ago there was a story in the paper about a 3 year old boy who had wandered out of his house and into a neighbors pool. You can guess the rest. The neighbor found him much too late and the boy died. After dinner last night, Frank was giving me updates about the story, about how this little boy was found wandering about the neighborhood on several different occassions and the cops were called etc. As we were talking, I give Frank the high sign that there were 'little ears' around as Aidan was crawling under the table with a blanket on his head. We dropped the conversation but not before Aidan heard enough to start asking about why the boy was wandering and why the cops came etc. We gave him the 'parent brush-off', this wasn't a conversation for little boys, nothing for him to worry etc. This bothered me the rest of the night. I don't like having my kids questions go unanswered; giving arbitray answers that make it seem like kids can be dismissed without explanations. So later that night, when Aidan should have been in bed, but came out to ask me some invented question designed only to delay bedtime, I decided to answer his questions about the little boy. I explained how his parents weren't watching him, how he wandered into a neighbors yard and how he fell into the pool. "But they got him out, right?" Aidan asked. And here, at this crossroad, is where it all went wrong. Why did I just not say "Yes, of course they did. But everyone was very worried. Which is why you must never wander away from Mommy and Daddy blah blah blah. But no. Instead I chose the to say 'No, they didn't, and the boy drowned'. And as I watched him process this information; watched him make the connections-this was a little boy; this little boy died, I'm a little boy...I wished I could take it all back. But I couldn't. So, I did what any self-respecting parent would do. Instead of taking him into my arms and telling him that is was very sad, and ok to feel sad, I tried to find the 'LESSON' in it all. Right? When all else fails, make it into a LESSON. We would never want to have an event occur in our lives that didn't teach a LESSON right? So, I proceeded to drone on about this is why Mommy and Daddy are always looking out for you, telling you to never leave the yard, don't run into the street, never go into a pool without an adult. Meanwhile, all Aidan wanted to do was feel sad for this little boy who's parents were apparently too busy to keep an eye on him. 

Back in bed, Aidan was crying for this boy. My son, who proclaimed to his sister one day 'when you're dead, you're dead', was showing empathy. And in a big way. So, I finally got off my parental soapbox and told him that it was very sad, and that we could say a prayer for the little boy, and it was ok to feel sad for him. And I hugged him, told him I loved him and said good-night.

So, who learned the LESSON this time?