|The Subway-sandwich monster|
|This was taken on the day that our OLD car's AC went out and we had to take it to the shop where the NEW car was waiting to be fixed. Note the relatively stress-free facial expression of our oldest.|
See, the thing about kids is that they want you to actually play with them. This is not what God intended, but they do not know what God intended, which is the whole reason we have to drag them to church after attempting to scrub their knees clean. I have decided that scrubbing my children is the equivalent of scrubbing my soul -- in fact, it may be a metaphor for just that -- it feels awful in the moment of it all, what with all the screaming and punching and wanting to stay dirty, but when it's all said and done, isn't everyone the better?
John and I are an odd couple. We want to hang out -- we really do! Both of us have good intentions, and we make grand plans ... but ultimately, we clash more than we mesh. He likes to take his baseball bat and swat at wasps out in the hot sun. I like to sit on the cool porch and paint my fingernails under the fan, where the nails dry quickly, and there are no balls or wasps flying anywhere near me.
Let's take, for instance, the recent "Cathy Rigby is Peter Pan!" debacle, for which I not only purchased tickets, but paid extra to sit in the sparkly-fairy-dust-sprinkle zone. Naive me -- thinking that because Peter Pan is a boy, and because there are pirates and crocodiles, fighting and flying -- assumed that this was the best way to introduce John-John to musical theater. I even invited my mother up for the occasion thinking that this would be a grand moment for her to witness ... drum roll ... Motherly Kimberly bathes the child in culture and inspires him to achieve the unthinkable by forcing the poor thing to put on a collar shirt at prime playing-outside time, drive downtown, search for parking, and ultimately, watch a 60-year old woman, pretending to be a boy, attached to wires, swing and flip about the stage for nearly 3 hours. During the first act, when Peter Pan comes swinging in for the first time, John caught the first glimpse of the wires which allow her to fly, and said loudly and to the dismay of children all around, "I KNEW THERE WERE WIRES! NOBODY CAN FLY WITHOUT WIRES! IT'S LIKE FISHING LINE! SHE'S FLYING ON NOTHING BUT FISHING LINE!"
Then at intermission -- which comes just after we discover that Peter Pan is half-dead and stranded on an island -- John stretched and yawn-yelled, "Man I'm glad that's over! Let's get outta here before the traffic is too bad."
|John-John as a reluctant Huck Finn on "Book Character Day." It was either this or Greg Heffley. Can you tell that I put my foot down?|
OK. Maybe they weren't that much, but still, he convinced her to buy two: The extra one for the smaller child I have, who was not allowed to attend because I didn't want his 3-year-old self to ruin
So anyway, in an effort to steer this ship back on course ...
Tonight it was John's night with me. (I have developed a new system of alternating bedtimes with the boys ... this deters fighting to some extent, and greatly expands my free time by reducing the bedtime duty load by one half.) Usually when it's John's night, we read his Action Heroes Bible (which by the way -- FABULOUS! -- especially the OT section where God is telling the Israelites to take over all of the other "-ites" land, and they do, and there's very gory fighting and plagues, debauchery, murder, people in lion's dens, whale's mouths, and I don't what all), but tonight he wanted to read Diary of a Wimpy Kid, and I just couldn't bear it, so I pulled out a forgotten Santa Claus present that I had stashed atop my closet shelf and re-discovered recently while cleaning. It was a 200-piece Diary of a Wimpy Kid jigsaw puzzle, and we set out to conquer it.
|I'm sure you can't imagine this one being anything but innocent.|
|This is me, holding Kyle like all good moms hold snakes named Kyle.|
As Nora Ephron once wrote, "One of the bedrock tenets of the women's movement was that because so many women were entering the workforce, men and women should share in the raising of children; thus, the gender-neutral word 'parenting', and the necessity of elevating child-rearing to something more than the endless hours of quantity time it actually consists of." (my emphasis)
|The good Drs. Jekyl.|
|The Evil Misters Hyde.|
Otherwise, feel free to post a comment about what a mind-boggling mother I am.