My life is sometimes a fairy-tale. Unfortunately, that fairy-tale is entitled, “Baldylocks and the Three Boors” … Once upon a time, there was a kindly old soul named Baldylocks and he had three boors. Every morning, Baldylocks woke up to make breakfast for the three boors. The first boor complained, “My oatmeal is TOO HOT !!!” The second boor whined, “My oatmeal doesn’t have enough MILK !!!” The third boor sat quietly, because in his oatmeal just happened to be perfect on this day, so why bother saying anything if you don’t have something to complain about.
Archives for March 2014
My daughter, at age seven, is already learning how to game the system. For Lent this year, she is giving up “screaming at my mommy.” Such a carefully crafted sacrifice, while doing nothing to guide her towards civility, leaves me to bear, in full force, the vitriol of her displeasure. This is akin to me giving up “Tanqueray martinis with a twist of lemon” after stocking the house with Bombay Saphire and blue cheese stuffed olives.
…so it’s been a rather unpleasant week with sick (and grouchy) children coupled with an ant problem that required rearranging the house to help address that issue. With all the disarray, I’ve been misplacing things like my phone, wallet, and computer, which really drives me nuts because I try to be diligent about putting things in the same spot so I can find them the next morning.
Today was a particularly bad day as my youngest stayed home with a fever, thus I didn’t get the house back in order and didn’t get other work done that I’d hoped to do. To top it all off, I lost my work phone right when I had a call to make. After searching on and off for over an hour, I finally gave up and used my personal phone for the call – something I don’t like doing because I like keeping work and personal life as separate as practical.
By night time, I was ready to put this day behind me. As the kids crawl into their beds, my youngest says to me, “Daddy, you left your phone in here,” and he pulls my work phone out of his bed. I realize then that it must have fallen out of my pocket when I lay down with him earlier in the day – he was horribly uncomfortable with his fever so I snuggled with him in his bed until he was finally able to go to sleep.
As I take my phone back and put it securely in my pocket, I smile to myself, happy that in the midst of all the chaos, I was able to keep my priorities straight.
I am convinced that the best way for young firewalkers to learn their trade is to walk across a floor filled with random Lego® pieces. And by the intense pain I am feeling, I think it would be for advanced students only.
…so it’s a lazy Saturday morning, mama is at work, I’m reading, and the kids are … uh, I don’t know. They’ve been quiet for a while. Too quiet. My daughter had come to my bedroom door a while back saying something about leaving them alone in her room for a while but I couldn’t quite hear what she was saying since I was in the bathroom and valued my privacy over the details.
Going over the happenings of the past half hour in my head, I realize that this could be an issue so I decided to, y’know, be proactive about things ‘cos that’s what parents do.
I go to her room and call out to them, asking if they are okay.
Daughter: “Yes, we are okay. Please don’t come in.”
Me: “No worries. I just wanted to make sure you are okay.”
– quiet pause for a couple of seconds –
Son: “We’re cleaning everything up.”
Okay, so now I’m scared.