Sunday, March 22, 2009


Getting B to church this morning was not going to happen without some major incentives. I haven't taken him since December and all he seems to remember is that his kindergarten Sunday School class is "too much like my 'real' kindergarten class."

My church has adopted a very forward-thinking curriculum for children; unfortunately for B, it's modeled after Montessori, which to him is "way too much job time."

Nevertheless, we arrived to church armed with stencils, crayons, a drawing board and a pack of gum. "But what is my real prize for going? asked B. "It's good for you," I tell him. "You can't see the rewards of going to church. But I will get you a treat when we're done IF you're good. Something you haven't had before. Well, maybe you've had this at your dad's but you definitely haven't had it at my house."

"What is it?" inquired young B.

"A donut," I replied.

"What's that?" he asked.

Cut to an hour later and a mad dash out before Communion. Donut store on J Street. My big-eyed boy was enchanted. He got the last rainbow sprinkled donut and then said to the girl at Starbucks: "Wow, this is the best bagel I've ever had!" And then:

"When can we go back to church?"

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

10 Signs That The Vacation Is, Most Certainly, OVER.

1.) On the long leg of the trip home, you are seated near a woman who is traveling with two babies under the age of 14 months. The babies cry in unison as the plane boards which stirs up the rest of the children on the flight, prompting you to ask your boyfriend: "Didn't you request a no crying flight?" To which he replies, "They're like dogs. Once one starts, they all join in."

2.) The babies take turn crying though out the flight. The mother deploys questionable calming tactics such as tickling and offering the older baby swigs of her Pepsi. Thankfully, the woman sitting across from the young mother takes pity and offers to hold the babies. You watch, incredulously, as they trade wailing babies throughout the flight and feel somewhat guilty that you feel no desire to help out whatsoever.

3.) Several hours into the whining and flying, you are convinced that deep vein thrombosis is setting into your legs and that the plane must be experiencing gale force head winds because how on Earth could we not be there yet? You ask your boyfriend how much longer. "Did we miss Sacramento?" you wonder aloud. "Did we mistakenly board a flight to Hawaii?" He tells you it's at least another hour.

4.) The babies cry on and you wonder, for the hundredth time, why this young mother has not brought "Mommy's Little Helper," also known as Benadryl, on board.

5.) You realize that your own "Little Helper," also known as Zanax, is packed away in your checked luggage.

6.) Upon arrival, you wait for the luggage as your boyfriend goes to retrieve the car. You are the last person standing at the carousel as you call him on his cell phone. "Ummm, honey, your golf bag is nowhere to be found."

7.) You take the wheel of your boyfriend's car and begin to circle the airport, as he attempts to locate his golf clubs, which you are pretty sure, are worth more than your own car. You proceed to circle four times. It's midnight.

8.) Arriving home, there are no less than seven sticky notes scattered throughout your house containing information such as "the dog has an ear infection" to "I cleared two shelves in the garage for my things" and "plastic baggies are now located HERE (insert arrow). Did I mention that my mom is moving in?

9.) Monday morning brings a slew of clients, an hour of continuing education, and two eggs - dropped off by your mom - since you have no time for the grocery store. Then it's off to Kindergarten pick-up where you learn of the next new project: construct a model of the Sistine Chapel; and the upcoming parent volunteering "opportunity": flip pancakes at the Kindergarten breakfast. You call your ex and start delegating responsibility.

10.) The effects of crossing three time zones in three days and changing to Daylight Savings Time definitely begin to show when, at bedtime, you are reminded that B did not do his nightly homework. You haul him back out of bed and begin a lengthy debate over whether "the tot is on the dot" or "the dot is on the tot." You finally concede and realize that he is, indeed right, and that "the tot is most definitely on damn the dot." You wonder why they are teaching the word "tot" in Kindergarten and think that your son is certainly not 5-going-on-85 and vow to never use the word in your home.

And for the silver lining:

11.) One sleeping pill does the trick and you sleep for a solid six hours!!