Tyrannical Rule

There is no democracy in Sunnyville. When the ruler is unhappy, cries of wrath can be heard throughout and the people shake in fear. Residents of Sunnyville are often found making offers to placate the finicky tastes of the despot. And when the tyranny is held at bay by laughter and joy, the residents rejoice - knowing that this moment is worthwhile, however temporary it may be.

Oh, there have been grumblings of revolt. A call to action among the populous. But the elders know this is simply a trading of one authority for another and largely ignore the rally. After all, how do you reason against a ruler who isn't old enough to go on the potty, let alone read your protest signs?

So, in the great tradition of two-year-olds before her there will continue:

Cajoling from tears into giggles by the crazy antics of her peasants siblings

Much watching of toddler-friendly television, after all who doesn't love a rousing round of "I Love You, You Love Me?" Especially repeated for the 3rd time in an evening?

Hiding of the "treasures" to include but not limited to: marbles, special dolls, candies, and anything shiny

Tickle sessions at the drop of a dime

Ring-Around-the-Rosie gala balls that continue until participants drop from dizziness

The constant use of redirection to avert the word "NO" for fear of swift retaliation in the form of on-the-floor-foot-stomping-screaming that lasts until something sparkly catches her eye.

All of this to be balanced by joyful demonstrations of new tricks that amuse, cuddles that put the cutest of puppies to shame, delight in each newly acquired skill, and - when things slow down - a refreshing peek at the wonder of the world as seen through new eyes. 

So, we will keep our little despot and continue to introduce civilized behavior to her repertoire knowing that these days will pass too soon.

Twenty-Five Birthdays

"Sure, I'll go," she off-handily offered. "Let me tell my mom."

After a quick check-in they were off, part of the group. Gradually, the laughter and calls dwindled as the two allowed the many to outpace and drift away.

They continued. Walking casually through streets each knew well - he from his daily journey to each morning and from just before every curfew; she from the familiarity found in home towns - they talked of nothing and everything. Comfortable, as friends always seem, to enjoy the silences and the laughter equally. Only bothered by the nagging sense that perhaps she should have some gift, though he insisted not.

Arriving at last, a flurry of activity takes place. There are introductions, cake, and baby cousins to keep her just a bit off-balance. There is the story of how much money he spent on the concert shirts that day and the slight discomfort that always accompanies being with any parents or adults other than our own. But, he is her friend and surprising even herself, she feels some comfort here.

Eventually, the two are alone again. Slouched postures, knees brushing lightly on the top step counting cars as they pass. Calling out "padiddle" and giving a playful punch as the game - and lacking headlights - required. Final tally was nearing a keg for her - which they laughingly agreed he could bring to her wedding one day.

Would you have told him then that this was only the first of 25 birthdays (and counting) he would share in some way with her, he probably would have laughed. He would have blushed at the idea that he would indeed carry the keg in to her wedding - little knowing it would in fact be his as well. But, life sometimes works just as we hope and birthday wishes can come true.

Happy Birthday my love! May all your birthday wishes come true.

Beginnings

Our lives are a series of endings - for each begins a new journey  or vice verse depending on your life outlook. Few may be as wonderful and melancholy as watching your child leave home to begin her own journey. Yet, what use are wings if we do not fly?

So it was that I froze in the baking sun, arms heavy with boxes and  heart burdened by memories as my sweet, blue eyed girl looked on at the other toddlers and children playing in the fountain. Part of me wanted to push her out - fly and enjoy; but intuition screamed to stop and watch. Given to her own devices she set the pace. Her small hands gripping a bucket, floppy sunhat shielding the glare, she studied the rowdy and meek alike. After gleaning what she could, she marked her destination in her mind and set off on her own - no hesitation. Soon she was immersed in the play she had chosen, her joy visible in the little dance she preformed around the refreshing spout.

Shaking off the vision, I turned to watch as my beautiful now-young-adult Teen loaded her brother down with yet another pile of college necessities to be hauled to her new, part-time, home. Wiping at the wetness winding down my cheek I pushed fears away and reminded myself that this toddler-young-adult-Teen will not merely follow blindly - she will confidently soar.

Envy?? Frustration?? Who Cares?

*Open letter to the chatty moms*

Dear Social Mom,

Please understand before I arrived in the parent drop-off line this morning: I woke to obsessively tweak my daily lesson plans. My tea and planning were interrupted by cries for Little Bear and the struggle to work around a cuddly toddler who insisted she sit upon my laptop. All before the sun lightened the sky. 

Then the whirlwind of preparing for school which consists of the normal rallying of the troops, calls to shower, eat, and care for pets ensued. The day's clothing plan was discarded because the iron seems to have had enough of my family and fled. 

Time was made to stop at not one but 2 different banks while juggling toddler morning snack and daycare drop-off. Once back home I quietly counted to 10 more than once while sibling bickering punctuated overly dramatic whines of pain as I attempted to pull a comb through the snarled, damp, nest atop Youngest's head.

In the 10 minutes left it was imperative lunches be made, bikes be placed in the van, not one but three field trip forms were shoved in my face more calm, cleansing breaths and ah crap it is garbage day.

I do not recount my prework hours for glory or praise. I tell this so you understand that while you may have all morning to park in the middle of the drop-off lane and chat to a friend who is standing in the crosswalk I am busily fretting over each second and mentally preparing for an ensuing parent-teacher conference. By this point my counting and deep breaths have worn thin. 

So get the heck out of my way, or I may just run you over. Whether the motive is frustration, overload, or pure envy will be difficult to decipher - but regardless, all the parents behind me with hectic schedules will applaud my actions and testify on my behalf.

Sincerely,

Parents with Places to Be

Hey there! Still Seashore. Still living the dream - if family, chaos, laughter, & love are your version of the dream. Instead of apologizing, I am merely picking-up where I left off so hop on or not as you desire.

Feverish, clingy, and whiny. These 3 words describe me by mid May Baby this week. She had a come-and-go-fever that would hit about 102 and slowly fade. Each evening I felt certain it was breaking and each night she woke feverish and needing to be cuddled in the wee hours. 

Now, it is almost May and even with MrS helping out this year toddler daycare is a germ factory I had one day left to be used for another pointless court date for Baby. This meant that each morning Teen would go off to school, for the whole 2 classes she attends on campus each day and Boy would stay home with Baby. Youngest (who needs a new moniker) went to school as usual where she was joined by Boy who reached school by bike about an hour late each day, once Teen was home to supply care until I returned from work. (One day this controlled chaos was even joined by Teen's friend who volunteered since Boy couldn't be late) 

If you recall my earlier description, you understand these have not been easy days for Teen or mornings for Boy. Yet, while they normally complain like most teens, not once did either complain about this extra duty. They took on this chore with grace and caring and I want to publicly thank them both. 

You are amazing kids and make me proud every day.

And for those of you concerned, not to worry we went to the doctor this am and it was a flu that led to ear infection - antibiotics and eye drops are in place.

Gratitude in a Story

Gratitude is the sentiment of the season, regardless of shopkeepers efforts to rush it through so we can move into the next season which they would like us to believe is greed. 

In that vein I am going to wax poetic about about my many blessings - nah. I'll be sparing you that, and share a story instead.

There once was a girl, whose life was a chaotic drama of learn-things-the-hard-way. Her operating premise seemed to be do something the hard way to better prove yourself, often resulting in difficult times.Throughout much of this time she had a friend who listened without judging and looked through all the flotsam to the person underneath the flow from combat boots to berkenstocks and constant scowling cynicism. And he liked who he saw.

Happily she was smart enough albeit after many years and one baby to mention as they cruised down the highway, "Well, I guess we should get married." And marry they did. A circumstance, choice, and life for which she is thankful everyday. For it is from this union that so many of their blessings have sprung. 

May you find yourself thankful for the things that truly matter in your life this holiday. Happy Thanksgiving.

Brainwashed

"This cloth will absorb 5 gallons of liquid!"

"Buy this cream and look 20 years younger in a week!"

These catch lines along with the annoying jingles that are set to repeat in your brain for days are the part of TV we warn kids about. "No, that toy will not make you a super hero." "No, we are not buying that doll, you will hate it in a week." Discerning fact from ads is a life skill we learn at a young age. But sometimes the message isn't an ad, and it is much more subtle...

Teen is applying to colleges, getting her affairs in order as it were as senior year cycles up to a fevered pitch. I have thought of these days often as she was growing-up. Not because I have a career in mind she wouldn't listen anyway but because I always thought it would be fun to tour campuses together, spread brochures across the kitchen table and talk. In other words, we would strengthen our bond over this time and these experiences. Reality is nothing like I imagined go figure

Instead Hubby and I try to get her to talk about her thoughts and she looks at us as if we are speaking an extinct language. Forging ahead in earnest, I ask about tours, again a confused stare followed swiftly by a Teen-esque eye roll. We have tried the casual "by the way" approach, the "have a seat we need to talk" directive, and the ever-popular "ARE YOU INSANE!! YOU'LL BE 100K IN DEBT AND 2500 MILES AWAY!!" tactic. Nothing seems to gel. 

Yet again fiction has made my expectations far too grand, and real life simply isn't playing along. It is all very blase and ho-hum to Teen. Apparently she hasn't been watching the same TV shows and movies as me.