A letter to my children

If you are a child (or disillusioned adult) reading this, I would like to warn you ahead of time that I am about to dispel a popular myth. It is for your own good that I write this.

It has come to my attention that you, my children, believe in a magical item that just does not exist. I believe in letting children be children and we believe in many things in our house. The Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the fairies who live in our woods are all welcome, and their right to exist defended, in our home. But I can not let this one belief go on for one minute more.

Brace yourself everyone. There is no such thing as the magical, self-refilling, toilet paper roll. I know that this is hard for you to believe and you are rolling your eyes at me like you always do, but it just does not exist. I can only conclude that you fully believe in its existence because none of you ever put a new roll of toilet paper on.

I have seen the impatience and looks of frustration on your faces as I yell at you through the bathroom door to go get me some toilet paper from the closet. I know that in your mind, you are telling me to just sit and wait patiently and the roll will magically appear on the wall next to me. All those times that you left the bathroom with the toilet paper roll empty, and returned to find it full again, it was me. I did it, not magic and not a house fairy (they don't like toilets).

When you are ready to accept this truth we can have a lesson on how to do this yourself. I implore you to please come to me so we can have a heartfelt discussion about this. If you do not learn this life skill soon, you will be stuck in your own apartment some day without toilet paper near by. And remember, I do this because I love you.

Act your age

It was our morning tradition for years. Every day as I sent my kids off to school I would smile and yell, "I love you! Have fun today!" They would always turn around and wave and tell me they love me too. One day my youngest daughter, Julia (who we describe as a party in a box), responded with, "You have fun today too!" Thus, a new tradition was born. No matter how hectic the morning, no matter how much yelling and gnashing of teeth involved, I could count of Julia to smile and wave and yell with enthusiasm "You have fun today too!"

One ordinary morning like every other morning, missing library books, three different lunch orders, last minute papers to sign, I looked at them all and gave them my customary send off. Then it happened. Julia smiled wide, looked at me with her dancing eyes and said, "You have fun today too, washing dishes and stuff. He! He! He!" I was floored. My youngest, most precious, loving child just mocked me, and she relished it. My mind was spinning and with my years of wisdom and patience I retorted, "Oh yeah! Well I'm working at the bookstore today, so there!"

Before I knew it I could feel my tongue move inside my mouth and begin to push against the back of my teeth as my lips started to part. In my head I suddenly heard my mom saying, "Stephanie Lea, act your age!" I froze and smiled while everyone laughed, and the whirlwind that is my family headed for the bus stop. My witty retort, along with the fact that I almost stuck out my tongue, made me realize that I had just temporarily regressed into a six year child. I had thoroughly failed to "act my age". And it felt great!

Living With It

Today I had the task of grocery shopping for my family and for Thanksgiving dinner next week. I also had the extremely important task of buying two boxes of crackers for Julia's first grade class. This morning I asked for her input as to what she wanted.

"Oh, those white cheddar square crackers and those other one's we once bought." She gets a look on her face of extreme concentration, the type you get when you ponder world peace, or why we exist, or why the top of your sock keeps sliding down to your ankle. Her hands come out in front of her and begin to frame the shape of the bag. "You know, the green bag with the crackers in it, that we got that one time?"

I have no idea what she is talking about and I promise to do my best. Later as I am unloading the car she spots the grocery bag with the crackers in it. Suddenly it's like Christmas morning as she smile's and asks "Are those the white cheddar ones I wanted?"

"Yes, and here is the other I kind I got for you." I don't know how this will go over and I am waiting for the frown and disappointment that a kid shows when they don't unwrap the Red Ryder BB Gun.

"These are the ones I was talking about! This is just what I wanted!" She is exuberant and I am in shock. They aren't in a bag and I just randomly picked something.

"Really? This is what you wanted." I'm about to bask in the glow of being the best parent in the world when I hear this.

"No, not really, but I can live with it."

"Did you just tell me you can 'live with it'"? I am floored. My seven year old just told me she could "live with it".

She just shrugs and smile's and replies, "Yeah. I think you can only buy the kind I want in Bellevue and you went shopping in Dubuque, so I can live with it."

So in one sentence she has made an excuse for my inability to get her what she wanted and she forgave me in her own way. No meltdown, no accusations, just a smile followed by "I can live with it."

An Ode To Golf

This one is for my mom!

My kids took me golfing for Mother's Day,
The ingrates made me carry my bag the whole way.

Hole number one, my first time out in three years,
I take my first swing, is it too early for a beer?

Hole number two and my shoes are too small,
That’s why I can’t hit this little white ball.

Hole number three and my toes are in a pinch,
I’m now hitting the ball, but it only goes and inch.

Hole number four and my putters older than me,
That’s why I sunk a six inch put in three.

Hole number five, the straps on my bag keep twisting and turning,
With every ball I hit those poor worms must be burning.

Hole number six and I’m now golfing with bare feet,
Why wouldn’t my kids spring for a golf cart seat?

Hole number seven and my bag doesn’t have a stand,
If no one’s looking I’m throwing this ball with my hand.

Hole number eight and the wind is blowing in my face,
That’s why this game is such a disgrace.

Hole number nine, thank god we’re almost done,
We may have all sucked but it was a lot of fun.

I’m off now to buy me a new bag and new shoes,
Next time you see me, I won’t be singing the golf player blues.

Why today was the bestest birthday ever.

What did I do to make this the bestest birthday ever? Did I hang out at the spa all day? (not since kid number three) Did I go out and kayak all day on some super scenic river in Iowa? (don't snicker, they exist) Nope. I stayed home with my sick daughter. Now, you may be scratching your head and wondering if maybe I slurped down some of Julia's steroids, but I must tell you that I am completely sane. (as sane as any woman w/ three small kids, two dogs and a cat)

My day started at 6:27 am with Julia singing "Happy Birthday" to me while I was still rubbing my eyes in bed. When she finished up she gave a big smile and exclaimed "I am so excited that I get to spend your birthday day with you mom!" She ran off and appeared a few quick eye blinks later with a big pink bag. Julia had plundered her room and found two rocks we previously picked up on a trip and a mosaic decorated hook I had yet to hang in her room. "You can pick out all the movies since it's your birthday." Now, you need to know that she just handed me the holy grail of her childhood. In our house the sick kid who stays home from school gets to watch any movie they want without their siblings rolling their eyes, going into convulsions and muttering "not this again!" She also spent a good portion of her day making a bejeweled version of me, complete with a heart.

The next birthday surprise involved my preteen, angst ridden, adolescent version of mini me smiling. What, you may ask is so miraculous about this? First of all, see the above description. Second of all, Bella is not a morning person. I received a smiling "Happy Birthday" and then she pulled out a sign made of glitter that she had worked on the day before that said "Happy Birthday Mommy." She even mixed together several colors of glitter to get just the right look for me. With a quick hug she ran off to go bend her chicken bones and get ready for school.

Andrew had disappeared in this time, and I couldn't quite figure out why he wasn't upstairs scarfing down breakfast while watching Scooby Doo. It turns out that he was going through all his toys and stuffed animals and came upstairs to hand me Winnie the Pooh. Andrew has had Winnie for as long as I can remember and he decided to bestow him onto me for my birthday with a smile and a hug. Later he also painstakingly made his own sign for me using glitter, pom poms and jewels.

What, you may find yourself pondering, was Gary doing on this fine day? While at work Gary called my mom to get the directions on how to make my favorite dessert. Gary can cook up some wonderful stir-fry but he does not bake. In the 17.5 years we have been together Gary has baked once, and that was just a couple months ago when he made cupcakes for one of our kids birthday treats. So I now have an Angel Food cake stuffed w/ strawberries, pineapple and whipped cream. Oh yeah, he made homemade whipped cream.

So after receiving these wonderful, heartfelt gifts and eating a great dinner (bow tie pasta w/ sweet sausage, tomato cream sauce and fresh basil, orange and sage green beans w/ candied pecans and a bottle of white wine) and a truly spectacular dessert I am ready to declare today the "Bestest Birthday Ever."

What's in your mind?

Last weekend we were staying at Dad and Lynette's place and while we were in the kitchen Julia reminded us that we promised her she could have a hard boiled egg after she ate lunch. Food is very important to Juila. If you tell Julia on Monday that on Thursday after dinner she can have a treat, than Thursday after dinner she will remind you she gets a treat. Gary was explaining to Lynnette that Julia has a special compartment in her brain dedicated to just food related information.
This whole time Andrew is just quietly listening to us talk when he suddenly blurts out "My head is a black hole!" Does this mean it is an empty void or that it sucks up all available information? What special compartment do you have in your brain?

An Exciting Day for Iowa

As a faithful Christian, I wanted to take a moment to help debunk the notion that today's Iowa Supreme Court ruling will somehow ruin the "institution of marriage."

1. This is a civil rights issue.  Two people who love each other and are in a committed relationship should be allowed to marry, even if there are of the same sex.
2. Churches will never be forced to marry people if they don't agree with same sex marriage.  These marriages will only occur in churches that agree with same sex marriage.  Predominately, same sex marriages will occur in a civil setting (court houses, city parks, etc.)
3. This slippery slope argument about ruining the "institution of marriage" has a long, storied history.  Remember, it hasn't been that long ago that States denied marriage between people of different races or different religions.

I applaud the Iowa Supreme Court for their decision.