Friday, November 12, 2010

Tooth Fairy and Other Mistakes

Santa Claus never forgets. The Easter Bunny never forgets. But that darn Tooth Fairy? How many times has she missed one of my children’s teeth? She always makes up for it, but, shoot, it’s not a fun adventure, wondering if she’ll come tonight, or wait a week.

We have friends who don’t get money from the tooth fairy if the tooth had a cavity. If I were a kid, I’d want the tooth back. You can’t have the tooth and the money, too, honey.

My kids get to choose: cash or a surprise. For Middle Daughter, that usually means candy. So far, no cavities, but we’re working on it. Her teeth are growing in so funky, she deserves all the solace she can get from other sources. One tooth is growing from the bottom of her gums in the back. She’s got big teeth and the first to come in took all the available real estate. I blame her father. She might have inherited her personality from me, but the mouth thing is all in her dad’s gene pool.

Youngest Child also has big teeth. With 8 teeth, his mouth is about full. On the good side, no one will beat him in a biting contest.

Youngest daughter swears she has 5 loose teeth. She does not have large teeth. Nor are they loose. Not any of them. That doesn’t stop her from walking around to each member of the family, making us try to wiggle her teeth. How do you tell her the truth when she’s staring at you with those hopeful brown eyes? “Keep wiggling it,” I tell her. I mean, eventually it will be loose, right? In a couple of years. Who knows? With enough candy, her teeth might come out earlier than expected.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

First Snow

It’s First Snow today. That’s one of the best days of my year. We still have yellow leaves on the ground because I’m morally opposed to raking (or morally opposed to getting my tookus into Ace to buy that leaf rake or morally opposed to actually making the effort to move the rake along the ground to put the leaves in a pile and then, even more work, to load them into a paper bag, take your pick.) But this year, I feel more prepared for winter. I have jars and jars of lovely apple things, all preserved and waiting for Winter Doldrums to set in. I have quilts upon beds, books upon shelves and outdoor projects mostly caught up. I even tore down the garden this year, leaving the soil bare with its drip hose coiling around itself, looking for something to water and finding, sigh, not even a snake or mouse in sight. I think the mice have moved indoors, but I’m waiting for Hal to set the traps. I could do it, but I don’t want to dirty my dainty hands.

The garage hasn’t been Winterized yet. That means I’ve got so much crud all over the ground that my car won’t fit. I could look at it as an opportunity to build my character by scraping the snow off the car, or I could look at it as God’s way of telling me to make cocoa and stay inside.

I’m inventing indoor projects to keep me occupied while the world outside hibernates. I have 3 years worth of pictures to 1) download 2) label 3) put in albums. That could take the better part of my remaining life span. Or, I could bequeath it to my children after my death with a poignant note about how busy they kept me and how I documented their lives but didn’t have time to organize the story. That way, I could make them cry with memories AND guilt. That gives me extra credit in Mommy School.

Most importantly, I’ve slipped nicely into Bulky Sweater Zone. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that Christmas Food coincides with Cable Knit. Then, comes January and Resolution Time, which means I have to fight for a parking spot at the gym, but it also allows for a few months to lose the extra bulge before Bikini season, which is not actually Bikini season for me, but more like 1930’s Swim Costume season. Still, it’s nice to be thinner before I put on the black tights and wool skirt.

Happy Snow to you and may all your Novembers be White.

Sunday, November 7, 2010


7 year old is now 8 year old. She’s never been a dainty thing, and she chose a Pirate theme for her party. It went along with her pirate costume for Halloween and, honestly, her pirate-y nature. Argh.

See the volcano cake? It was a problem-solving cake. Several of her friends don’t like chocolate, but Birthday Party Girl loves chocolate (can’t figure where she gets that from). So, the top half is all chocolate and the bottom half is nothing like chocolate. Of course it had real smoke, a la dry ice, spewing from the top. A pirate broke into our house, left a treasure map, and disappeared. The 10 giggling girls followed the clues to a treasure chest full of gold coins, jewels (silly bands) and skull-n-crossbones suckers.

We divided the loot evenly because that’s the way this pirate rolls. And then came the problem. We’d done all the stuff. Every single thing I had planned. And we still had 20 minutes. 20 minutes of sugar loaded girls with nothing to do sounds like a recipe for mayhem. So we turned off all the lights and I told the story of the Dread Pirate Roberts who stole the gold and jewels and then, in turn, had it stolen from him. It involved audience participation. It was made up on the spot (thank you, Princess Bride, for giving us the Dread Pirate Roberts.) Toward the end of the story, I thought, “Gee, how am I going to get out of this plot line?” Luckily, the doorbell rang, I wrapped the story up in a very cheap, non-scary way, and the girls skee-daddled.

And now, I’m done with parties for a few months. I always love them when they’re done. We’ve been doing on-the-cheap parties this year, and while I love the convenience of making a phone call to, say, Jungle Time, and having that be the total extent of my involvement in the party, there’s something rewarding about making plans, buying craft supplies, and inventing a story on the spot. And, since all the guests were older and well-known to our family, none of the parents stayed. I hate it when parents stay. Deeply, traumatically hate it. If you ever come to a kid party at my house, please just drop the child off. I promise they’ll be safe and I promise they’ll have more fun if you aren’t here. I’ll have more fun if you aren’t here. I love being with kids. It’s the parents I sometimes can’t stand.