The Man at Walmart
Today, I had two hours to cram in a bunch of errands while the kids attended a birthday party. One of my stops (Walmart) involved the usual unplanned, but inevitable spin through the craft department.
The yarn aisle shares real-estate with the artificial flowers, which I’ve never noticed until today. When I whipped around the corner and saw a very elderly man holding and examining three artificial red roses, I said “I bet you’ll make someone very happy with those.” He looked startled for a moment, and then gave me a smile. I was halfway down the aisle when he spoke.
“As a matter of fact, I’m going to take these to the cemetery. They’re only $2 apiece, and they’ll last until Christmas, at least.”
I don’t know exactly what I said, but it was something to the tune of “I’m very sorry to hear that. They’re beautiful.” He thanked me, put the roses in his cart, and walked away.
I turned into the beading aisle, and I cried for the first time ever at a Walmart.
Cartoona Non Grata
I’m starting to realize that the car is the source of our best family discussions.
Last year, when D was in second grade, we were heading somewhere when she said out of the blue: “Mom. I felt really sorry for Tiffany today. She told Devan a secret and he told the whole class.” We were at a stoplight, and I remember my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach as I thought “oh my God,” and worried about what I was about to hear.
Of course, I immediately asked her what the bombshell was.
“She still watches Dora.”
A wave of relief washed over me, and I started to laugh.
“Seriously, D? Is that so bad?”
“Yeah, mom. Only little kids watch Dora.”
Do-do-Dora! Do-do-Dora!
B piped in, “Dora’s head looks like a football.”
It seemed like just yseterday I was buying Dora bubble bath, and caught myself singing “Backback, backpack! Backpack, backpack!” while driving alone in the car.
I got it, though. Of course, I think it may have been more like fifth grade when the Smurfs became uncool – not second!
When did one of your childhood heroes become embarrassing? Who was it?
The Great Pizza Hunt
My kids have regularly referred to Pizza Hut as “Pizza Hunt,” since they were old enough to request pizza or recognize that little red roof logo.
Call me bad, but I’ve never really corrected their mispronunciation. It’s just one more way to retain their babyhood, as they mature at dizzying speeds these days.
Yesterday, Boo and I were driving along and he excitedly stated, out of the blue: “Mom. I know why they call it Pizza Hunt! It’s because when you go there, you are searching for Pizza.”
I had to smile at his logic, but I also decided I better let him know it is actually “Pizza HUT” before he proclaims his new realization on the bus, in front of fourth and fifth graders.
“Honey, that is really good thinking… But, did you know that it is actually called Pizza Hut? H-U-T?”
I saw his face in the rear view mirror, and he didn’t smile or frown.
“Hmm.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t like the name as much anymore. It makes no sense.”
He’s Going to Eat Something Really Gross on a Dare One Day…
Boo is a daredevil when it comes to trying new foods. He’s extra determined when it comes to foods I warn him about.
Once, while I was chopping an onion, he came up and asked me what it was.
Me: “It’s an onion.”
Boo: “I LOVE yun-ions. Can I have a bite?”
Me: “It’s pretty spicy.”
Boo: “No it isn’t. I looooove yun-ions.”
Me: “Okay.”
Looking victorious, Boo picked up the unchopped portion of the yun-ion like an apple, sinking his chops into it with fervor.
Suddenly, there were tears rolling down his face. I said not one word. He looked up at me, through the tears, and hissed out (under his breath, with a forced smile) “I LOOOOOOOVE YUN-IONS.”
Today we bellied up to the Subway at Walmart to order him a sub. I always tell those guys to load it to the hilt with veggies. The sandwich artist went through the extensive lineup, asking us which selections we’d like for this turkey mini sub.
I suggested all veggies, except jalapenos. Boo immediately declared that he LOOOOOOVED jalapenos, so I asked the guy to give him a sample.
He popped that sucker in like nobody’s business, and chomped away. Half a second later, he started to visibly huff.
“HHHhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh.”
Silence. Tears.
“Waaaaaaaaa-teeeerrrrrrrrrr… HHHHHHhhhhhhhhauuuuueusuuahsaaaaaa”
Pink splotches on the face.
Sandwich artist throws me a paper cup. Sandwich artist #2 comes out and says “MILK! You need MILK!” We get a bottle, and hand it to B.
The kid emitted about 24 ounces of tears, but never actually cried. When it was all over, Sandwich artist gave him two thumbs up and said “Whoa, you’re a cool dude.”
At the end of the day, he said “I’d do it again.” Sigh.
The aftermath…
The Importance of One-on-One Time
Quick Recap: I took the boy to see the Justin Bieber movie. Even though he fell asleep and I needed some help to exit the theater, it was the best date I’ve had in a long time, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. (See below for the details.)
__________________
I’ve written about one-on-one time in the past, and I’ve been thinking more and more about how important it is.
My daughter was having a sleepover at her dad’s house on Friday night, so I planned a “date” with Boo. Yes, I took my son to see the Justin Bieber movie. My six year-old boy (who I just want to cast a spell on lately to freeze him in time, he’s so freaking cute) was so excited to see that movie and go spend his Book It certificate on his personal pan pizza at “Pizza Hunt.”
Work ran a little later than I had hoped, so he spent some time down the street playing with a friend. When I called to say I’d pick him up in 20 minutes, I learned that he was watching the clock per my previously communicated goal of 6:15, and was already bundled up in coat and boots. (Oops!)
We arrived at the theater, and I was astonished to see a line of bustling teens spilling out the door. (SMACK in the forehead – I haven’t gone to a weekend-night movie in AGES!) I worried that our Bieber fever would be broken by previously-ticketed masses, but nope… The theater was not too packed. I let Boo pick out the seats, and we settled in to dodge 3-D objects and laugh our butts off at the Kung Fu Panda staring contest.
The movie started, and I mainly watched him watching the young Justin Bieber smacking away at the drums with more skill than a toddler usually displays.
The movie went on, and Boo started to get restless. I did my best to keep him comfy as I watched the movie, riveted.
Boo fell asleep. I enjoyed the film. I chuckled at the girls interviewed in the movie, and the ones who popped up to sing and dance during the confetti-filled 3-D finale.
Suddenly, the movie was over, and I sat with a 45 pound boy sawing logs on my lap. His boots were kicked off on the dark floor, and I couldn’t find my keys.
I bothered a teenage couple to help me get his boots on, as he bobbled, dead weight on my arm. They politely complied, but I wasn’t about to ask them to look through my purse for my keys. No, no – I waited until the kids came in with the brooms to clean the theater. They were very sweet, and one of them shined his flashlight into my purse, where my keys stared back at me instantly, as if I hadn’t been digging for them in a panic for at least 3 minutes.
Finally, I slung Boo over my shoulder and carried him through the masses. The glow from my amazing teenage interactions of the evening was dulled (if only momentarily) by a couple my age who dropped the door on me, looking back without apology, and I made it through the March rain to the car.
We never got to “Pizza Hunt” that night, but the second thing B-boy said to me the next morning was “I had a really nice time last night, Mom.” The first thing he said was “Mwahhhhh – we didn’t go to Pizza Hunt…” I told him the whole story, and he repeated it to his sister almost verbatim the minute we picked her up. I’m pretty sure he’ll repeat it again, somewhere.
We used his pizza coupon later in the day. 
Green Beans Your Kids Will Inhale
The other night while visiting my sister Winny, the topic of green beans came up.
It all started when I gave her a bottle of Wildtree Roasted Garlic Grapeseed Oil that I got from a neighborhood party. It sparked the recent memory of a recipe she found somewhere online while researching ways to make veggies more appealing to an admitted “vegetable-hater.”
She went on to rave about the quick and easy method of heating up a small amount oil, and frying up some frozen green beans, directly from the bag.
Today, I tried it when my kids came home from school expressing the usual after school hunger. My daughter’s initial grumbles (the boy never grumbles about any food suggestions. He’ll try anything, once) rapidly turned to praise, and the prep was freakishly easy. (Method below photo.)
How to make GBYKWI:
This Reenactment Brought to You By…
…My friend Ann, who was volunteering in my son’s kindergarten classroom today.
That’s pretty much all I’ve got to say about that…
Bullying: Take Just Two Minutes
Today’s headlines are filled with stories of promising young lives ending too soon because of the heartless words, actions and at times, widespread campaigns of public humiliation brought about by others. One can’t help but wonder: What is the solution to this problem? Well, I have an idea…
In a day and age that ethnicity, sexual orientation and individualism are much more visibly diverse than ever before, it is shocking that people could still be so close-minded and hateful. On the other hand, there is a whole new method of communication – to more than just the middle school locker room. The quick, broad audience is an obvious appeal to the cold-blooded bully.
More than worried about the above, I am thankful that my kids are growing up in this day and age. The same platform that has given these heartless souls a wide platform to spew their hate from is also helping to bring much-needed attention to this rampant problem and will (I believe) save lives. While it is sadly too late for so many families, bullying online is beginning to yield serious consequences. There is no such thing as anonymity when you harass a person online.
Sites like http://www.stopbullyingnow.hrsa.gov/kids/ provide tools and techniques for kids who are being bullied, witnessing the attack of others, or are bullying themselves. Campaigns are appearing on Cartoon Network and others, bringing this problem to light and giving kids advice on how to react. What used to be a widely-known “secret” is now getting big-time attention from the media. Bullies in famous cases are getting jail time.
My kids are still small – only 8 and 5. Our household is centered around compassion and acceptance, but I have made the decision to engage them in unpleasant discussions about some of the tragic stories that are dominating the headlines these days. It’s sad that we have to think about it, but I want them to be aware of this epidemic and be equipped to deal with it, whether they’re being attacked themselves or see it happening to others.
In just two minutes, my daughter told me about some bullying going on at her school, and brought back glaring memories of cruel comments uttered by kids. The same things we as parents love and adore about our kids (a cute nose, or freckles) can draw plain old mean insults from a school bully, and for absolutely no purpose at all. As we talked about it, her usual bright demeanor faded visibly, and left her feeling sad… And she’s not even the target of the bully!
So, do it. Take two minutes to talk to your kids about bullying. Find out what’s going on at their school, and reinforce the messages we’re finally starting to see in the media. You never know what you might hear, and how you and your own kids might change (or even save) a life.
Who’s in?
Please share your stories and ideas – I’d like to hear how others are handling this topic at home!
New Perspective. Reflections on #sisUdc
My life as a SingleWorkingMama has really been a blur. In the past ten months, I’ve started a new job and lost my mother. Just recently it occurred to me that while I’m getting by with my daily responsibilities, I’ve lost sight of certain things. Friends. Personal goals. More relaxation time.
While this realization was probably a good thing, I’ve been struggling with a plan of attack in terms of getting ahead instead of just getting by.
So,when my friend Cindi (@deziner) pitched the idea of jetting to DC for a 1/2 day leadership workshop for women, the timing couldn’t have been better. Airfare was cheap, it’s my “no kid” weekend, I had enough hotel points for a free room, and I found the description of SisU Bootcamp intriguing. I couldn’t think of one reason not to go.
Boy, am I glad I did. Not only did I get to spend the weekend catching up with a friend (and fellow SWM) I really admire and respect professionally, but I met a bunch of other women who face challenges like me.
Kathy Korman Frey (@ChiefHotMomma on Twitter) is not only an absolute riot, but a no-nonsense entrepreneurial evangelist.
“We all need a group of 5 supporters in our professional life if we are going to reach our potential. Period.”
Quick exercises and some really simple strategies made it clear to me almost immediately what I’ve been missing, and I completely believe in this notion of that five person support network. It’s brilliant!
I walked out of the session feeling inspired, excited, and equipped to start working these strategies into my own life and help others as a bonus.
…And now, my plane home is boarding.
Creative Cooking: Chocolate Nachos?
Drue is now 8, and not long ago it occurred to me that she wouldn’t know how to make instant pudding, let alone a grilled cheese.
It’s easy to get in the habit of preparing your kid’s meals, but I want my kids to learn the joys of cooking, or at least get them started young enough to decide if it’s a hobby they like! Being served a snack requiring more assembly than just pouring milk on top would be a bonus, too. (Although, the Froot Loops in bed on Mother’s Day are precious and delicious, you know!)
Nachos seemed to be a good starting point. She carefully assembled a layer of chips with a sparse layer of cheese, and I gave her the microwave lesson. We talked about variations, like adding peppers or chicken.
She was delighted with the result, and promptly made me a plate.
A couple days later, I saw her rummaging in the fridge, and I watched from across the room as she once again assembled her chips and cheese, and then came out of the pantry with a Hershey bar. She broke the rectangles apart and spaced them, deliberately and evenly, over the top of her chips and cheese.
30 seconds later, I saw her take a bite.
She promptly walked to the garbage and dumped the whole plate.
