Showing posts with label other people's children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label other people's children. Show all posts

Friday, July 23, 2010

My Lost Week

So, I forgot that my blog does not transmit directly from my head (if someone could invent that I'd really appreciate it, 'kay).  I must now attempt to recap, without getting all epic in length or sacrificing my charming story telling style.

My niece and nephew came to visit. They normally reside in Arizona, where I've been told the heat is dry and the scorpions are like 99% guaranteed NOT to get in your house.  Mosquitoes and humidity were a frequent topic of concern for the kids, especially the boy, who seemed to have a leaky faucet attached to the top of his skull and a new welt every 10 minutes.


Violet had a birthday and a party and got very little direct attention from her mother for approximately 6 days and appears to be unharmed by the experience. Of course, she crawled into my bed almost every night, so I guess I shouldn't start weeping for the loss of my sweet, needy baby just yet.


This innocent fun is totally and completely illegal in Arizona. Like, zero tolerance illegal, not Ohio (we look the other way one weekend a year) illegal. The box of cheap sparklers we bought could potentially burn down the whole state.  The kids were elated and felt like they were doing something naughty. It was pretty entertaining to watch.

We also spent a day at the water park, for which there are mercifully no photographs. Aaron and I brought home black and blue souvenirs on the shoulder and ass respectively.  Water slides really are built for young people. Violet learned that the lazy river is a dangerous hazard, where you cannot even trust your own mother to prevent you from drowning. Also...peeing in pools is totally okay in Grandma's book, but that's a post for another day. 


We left the water park just as it started to storm and headed straight to the refuge of Bob Evans, which is an Ohio temple of senior citizen cuisine and all-day breakfast. The girl was excited to try something new and by "new" I mean enough food to feed a girls' softball team. She ate bacon, eggs, potatoes, stuffed cinnamon pancakes, one of her brother's chicken fingers and a hunk of my chicken fried steak. It was a sight to behold!
We went bowling.  We walked. We dressed the girl up in my senior prom dress and forced her to pose for pictures in the 90 degree heat. We visited the art museum and played corn hole. We got comic books and made photo albums and schemed about ways to make money for future plane tickets. We watched challenging movies and talked about important stuff and stupid stuff equally. There was some farting and squabbling and whining, but it was a good time.

Today, I packed them up and sent them back and tried not to cry.

The End.
 

Monday, June 21, 2010

My Baby Niece is 15 and if You Do the Math that Means I Am Old

My little sister got a jump on things about 15 years ago and gave birth to my lovely niece Breanna.  Sure, people worry when 16 year olds have babies, but I'd say my sister is having the last laugh on that.  By the time my sister is 40, she will have finished raising her kids AND she will hold several college diplomas.


My niece and nephew are coming to visit next month and I will surely take lots of WAY more impressive photos than this, but for now this must suffice.

Apparently, the folks at I Heart Faces are unaware of my summer schedule and decided to put on a teen challenge THIS week.  I would fare much better if the challenge were held the last week of July, but whatever. I'm not bitter.


Friday, May 7, 2010

Boys and Girls


Violet has a lot of girlfriends.  It is no coincidence that I am also friends with the mothers of these girls. Which came first, the kid-ship or the Mama-ship?  I just invented two words.  There lies the problem.

Violet has complained long and loud about not having anyone to play with.  Oh sure, we have playdates, but that isn't what she means and it has taken me a long time to figure out why.  Those playdates, really are like date dates.  They are sometimes forced.  They are sometimes too long.  More importantly, they are always chaperoned.

Playdates with Vi's girlfriends double as Mommy dates. We don't mean to hover, but with eager younger siblings and needy babies and other mitigating circumstances, the playdates end up being too....well, supervised.  Kids need to run free and misbehave in benign ways.  They need the space to learn how to get away with stuff, like dumping clods of dirt on each others head.  They also need to learn how to make it known that they don't like the dirt shower, with their own voice.

**********************************************************************************

The boys moved in next door almost 2 years ago.  We've always been friendly. Their Mom is pretty cool, but we each have shit to do and time passes and you just never get around to bringing over that welcome-to-the-neighborhood coffee cake.  No matter.  Small children can smell each other. They sense a willing playmate from a mile away and no fence will keep them apart.

Our neighborhood is "colorful" and I have always been a bit "paranoid", so we have a high chain-link fence around our whole yard and each of the gates has a padlock.  This keeps the marauding thieves from stealing my recyclables and broken lawn mower, but is also keeps other children out of my yard. Until the boys came along, I was just fine with keeping the local spawn out of my yard (remember Hannah?). 

The boys would not be kept out of the yard.  I spied them scaling the fence and decided to unlock the gates and let them in.  They are a bit older than Violet, but they are sweet and funny and appropriately gentle with their preschool playmate; without treating her like something fragile. 

And so, the tables have turned.  Violet and "her boys" have forced us Mommies to get to know each other better.  Last night, I stood in my steeply angled front yard and leaned on the decorative fence chatting with my new friend, while our children did things we would probably tell them not to do if we were really paying attention.

Long after the kids should have been embarking on their nightly rituals, we said goodbye and went in the house.  Violet paused in the living room for a moment, a layer of dirt visible on her scalp and said, "I miss the boys." 

I think it's going to be a nice summer.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Lock Up Your Daughters

This is T.  He is an awesome little dude and he has a crush on Violet.  T has a thing for older women.

Unfortunately,  today he may have blown his chance with my demure, only child.

The kids were enjoying some veggie dogs and frozen peas when out of nowhere, T deposited some freshly chewed hot dog onto Violet's plate.  It was reminiscent of a mother bird feeding her young.  Clearly, it was a bold romantic gesture, but it backfired.

T's big sister P, was nonplussed by the regurgitation.  Violet, on the other hand, gagged a little in response to the "gift".

I tried really hard not to laugh.  I've been given way less thoughtful gifts by men. 

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