Holpineville

Mr. Greedypants

Carl would like to add tohis list of things he desperately needs RIGHT NOW:

• Any and all existing Pink Panther cartoon DVDs
• A toolbox with real tools (he is insanely jealous of Ruby's, but very vague about what he's going to do with said tools)
• Transformer toys
• A video game (handheld, maybe he means? He's not getting one)
• Even more little Lego guys
• A skateboard

Can you tell that Carl is driving me insane with demands for stuff?  This morning, there was a long sobbing breakfast fit about wanting brownies.  The sad thing is, after a few minutes I would have let him have brownies for breakfast if there had been any around. I am trying to be sympathetic yet tough in response to this new wave of tantrum, but well, it's hard, and even harder for Rod. 

I thought maybe Carl was getting sick, or he's staying up too late, or he's having issues with being out of school or starting big kid school.  And then I remembered, hey, he's turning four soon!  There are whole books about how four year olds behave rotten!  Last night a friend and I traded stories about epic tantrums our older kids threw at age four....

So I guess we have a trying year ahead.

Opinion poll time:  How old should a child be before watching Star Wars and its relatives?  Carl is desperate to see it, and many of his friends watch it all the time. Rod and I have been in basic agreement that it's too violent and too dramatic for our kids; it's PG for a reason and they're not ready.  Some G rated films are still too intense for Ruby and Carl, although Ruby seems to have mastered the concept of "happy ending means you shouldn't get too frightened at what happens in the middle."  I have a very strong personal aversion to violent movies; I'm fine with watching sex, and I don't mind bad language, but I shy away from blood/pain/death. I recall being scared by Star Wars when I first saw it in second grade.  However, it has been a long time since I have watched Star Wars myself; maybe I'm remembering it wrong.

The parents who let their 3-4-5-6 year olds see Star Wars say that 1) plenty of kids are bored by all the talking and don't understand the story anyway, 2) it's just a bunch of comic book violence and nothing terribly bloody, so how is it worse than, say, Tom & Jerry?, and 3) all the other kids are watching and talking about it and so they eventually felt they had to give in. 

So I am wavering. Maybe I have made too big of a deal out of saying no about it.  Do you think so?

There are more and more of these "what's appropriate?" questions coming up and I am finding it really hard to formulate and then enforce our household policies in face of different rules at our friends'.  i.e., how much computer time should my kids be permitted/encouraged to have?  Webkinz? Libby Lu?  Video games (arcade/handheld/various systems)? Bratz? Heelys? On the one hand, my kids are responsible, trustworthy, and brilliant freethinkers who should have plenty of opportunities to make their own decisions and mistakes, and I'm not a big fan of rules and bans and arbitrary limits.  On the other hand, some things really offend me and I do have ideas about how they should be spending their time and money.

Not to sound too much like a whiner, but I am really sick today.  My throat is so swollen it's constricting my breathing.  It seems to be a cold, though, not strep, or I guess it could be both.  Coughing hurts. Plus, I am deep in PMS territory.  It is raining.  I want my mommy. 

Sixteen Years, Two Days

Friday was also our anniversary, and it brought proof that I am in a bit of a life funk, because not even true love could motivate me to pull a gift or celebration together.  Too caught up in my car drama and end of the school year room-mom duties, devoid of any creative (or even acceptable) ideas about ways to celebrate, I waited too long to get a babysitter or a decent dinner reservation; thus flopped Plan A.

Enter Plan B1:  We'll just have a nice romantic dinner at home after the kids go to bed!  But then I start to think about how long it takes to get those kids to bed and the kitchen cleaned up, and how Rod and I might be hungry way before then, and how tired Rod is this week, and....

Devise Plan B2: We'll have a super-festive family dinner!  I have this recipe for grilled scallops I've been meaning to cook, and I buy fancy horse dovers (hors d'oeuvres, bien sûr), heart-shaped cheesecake, and champagne at the extra fancy grocery store.... I arrive home to find a really great flower arrangement for the centerpiece from one of our readers, too! 

However, we end up hosting a couple of friends for playtime in the late afternoon, so the house gets trashed and I can't politely step away from everyone and start cooking.  Rod comes home to find a big mess and me: tired, unshowered, and crabby.

Plan C to the Rescue:  Take out!  Rod and the kids picked up a vast array of Thai food (everything the kids supposed they might even try to eat, plus a normal order for us) while I took a shower, and then we busted out the wedding china.  The ol' kool-aid-in-a-wine-glass trick worked miracles on the kids, and who doesn't like to toast?

Then we let the kids stay up late looking at the wedding album, a slim volume full of fashions of questionable taste and growing numbers of dead relatives.  (Once again, we thank God for the polite persistence and photography skills of Rod's mother, without which there would be hardly any photos of the big day.) Oh, it was such an earnest, modest-young-people-starting-out-in-the-early-90's wedding.  In recent years, I have looked back and cringed at the clothes and the big eyeglasses and the hairstyles.  I still think someone should have taken me forcibly to the salon for some colorwork, and Oh, My Lord, the Bangs!  But now, it's been so long that it's all starting to look quaint and vintage.  Surprising to me, Ruby and Carl had no trouble picking out the relatives, even Uncle Allan back when he had a lot more hair and big glasses, and Grams (my mom who's been dead two years) with a fancy up-do.

We're not doing anything terribly exciting this Memorial Day weekend.  The kids had bug class (arboretum nature classes) on Saturday and the pool we joined for the summer re-opened, so we've been there in the afternoons.  Ruby is back to healthy, but naturally this morning Carl was running a fever.  I can't tell if he has strep, too, or if it's the sinus infection I've been predicting since last month, or if it's something new.  He was a real pill most of the day and severely tried Rod's patience and mine.  I am glad he's finally asleep.

Ruby chose today, too, to throw one of her hours-long hysterical tantrums.  It started when she got miffed because Carl went down the stairs in front of her (she wanted to be the Line Leader!) and then somehow she broke Carl's sunglasses (she says it was an accident, Rod says intentional, I didn't see it), and then she got really torqued when I told her she would have to write Carl an apology note at nap time and then replace his glasses with her own money.  Eventually she and I negotiated it down to paying half, and she also stayed home from the trip to the park that she didn't really want to go on anyway to sulk.  By tonight, she was reminding me that she needs to go buy Carl new glasses, so I guess she's warmed to the idea.  Was I too harsh?  Did I make a big deal out of nothing?  Carl didn't seem terribly upset about the glasses, but Ruby didn't seem to feel bad at all about breaking them, and I wanted her to see that she needs to be more careful and to take responsibility for her actions.

Both kids have been hitting each other a lot this weekend: mostly out of frustration, when one won't do what the other wants, or won't hand over the toy, or doesn't get to be first. This is annoying and disappointing and embarrassing when they do it in front of other people.  Ruby is old enough to know better, and has such a reputation for good behavior that it shocks people.  And Carl just lacks self control in this area.  He sometimes hits me, too, when he's angry, which is worse in my book.  I remember hitting my mom exactly once (I slapped her knee when she told me no about something), and wow, was she memorably angry.  Carl is decidedly not me, however, and I am not exactly my mom, either.  So I am trying hard to somehow train him to use his words and control his fists.

So, we may or may not be having a barbecue at the pool on Memorial Day, depending on how sick Carl is.  Then there are three school days, and Ruby is done and Carl gets Friday off.  Mommy's free time has already evaporated.

And by the way, I saw the new Indiana J@nes movie during a group maternal sanity outing last week, and I have concluded that my dad and Harrison Ford are somehow related: Exact. Same. Hair. (different style).  Exact. Same. Facial. Expressions.  Seriously, it's always been a little weird, and now that they both have the same shade of brownish-gray hair, it's spooky.  Hi, Dad!