As you read this, I’m lying by the pool or perhaps I’m kayaking or maybe I’m enjoying a quiet dinner alone with my husband. Or, more likely, I’m begging the Pie to please go to sleep or I’m trying to convince Doodles that a week without TV is a good thing or I’m pleading with both my children to use their restaurant manners or I’m trying to slather sunscreen as Pie is running away screaming or Doodles is having a full scale meltdown because I won’t let him have a third afternoon cookie or Pie is having a meltdown just because she’s Pie… In other words, I’m on vacation (this entry coming from the wonder of preposting as I write it on Saturday night).
Of course, the week before vacation is always chaotic. Doodles had his end-of-year celebration and his teacher had asked me to put together a slide show for the parents–just a simple compilation on a c.d. that they could show in class and the parents could then take home. No problem, I said. I can do that I said. His teacher showed me the one from the year before and it was a straight-forward affair: lots of pictures and the parent had put on music like “Hey Hey We’re the Monkees” (Doodles room was the Kofefim Room, which is Hebrew for “monkies.”) Not bad, I thought. But… I can do better. Wouldn’t it be nice if… To make a tedious process short, three weeks, $167 in new memory, 12 hours of Adam’s time trying to keep my computer from crashing, I have a lovely 14 minute slide show that includes interviews with the kids, recordings of them singing, and a very short video. And the kicker? They loved it so much they want me to do it again next year for Pie’s class. Sigh. It’s official. I’ve turned into my mother.
Apropos of nothing, I just sucked Adam into watching Confessions of a Matchmaker. His exact words: “This is too good to not watch.”
I feel like we’ve turned a corner lately. Things with Pie are just getting better and easier. Her words are multiplying. She’s a lazy eater but she’s so darn cute abou it. “Feed you!” she demands as she hands me her fork; even finger foods she’d like to be served. If I’m not moving fast enough–trying to get dinner on the table, say–she demands, “Sit! I feed you!” She loves to play games now. She’ll walk out of a room, calling, “Bye bye! Bye bye!” And then she knocks on the door, comes back in laughing hysterically, kisses me, and says, “I missed you! Hi! Bye bye! Bye bye!”
I blantantly lied to my son. We went shopping for Adam’s Father’s Day gift. He’s not the greatest at keeping a secret, if you recall. We went to Bed, Bath and Beyond so I could pick out the real gift, but I told Doodles we were buying Daddy a blender. But then I felt bad because Doodles got really excited. “A blender? One that won’t make clumps? Because our blender makes clumps in my smoothies. How about this blender?” I felt terrible. But as far as I know he hasn’t figured out what we really got Adam and I hope he won’t be crushed when Adam opens up his non-blender gift in the morning.
All right. That’s enough. Let me get back to the hot tub. Or am I having my massage right now? Or am I trying to keep Pie from biting Doodles as he steals her toy? Something like that.
