Zaffy’s Got Sticker Envy

Mgazi had to get her polio vaccine last week. She screamed. She kicked. She did not bite me, but just like last time she got a shot, I had the distinct feeling that she wanted to. In the end no amount of cajoling, cuddling, bribing, or threatening would calm her down. So I plopped her on my lap, pinned her arms to her sides with a bear hug, and yelled at the nurse, “GO GO GO!”

It wasn’t pretty. And all she got in the end was an effective defense against a horrible disease and some measly stickers.

As we left the office, my five-year old was sniffling from the indignity of it all. My seven-year old, who had been waiting in the waiting room, was miffed because “some crazy baby was screaming like crazy in one of the rooms and I couldn’t hardly read my book! Mom, it was awful!”

Hmmm.

In the car:

Zaffy: Hey! Why did you get three stickers?

Mgazi: mumble mumble sniff mumble

Zaffy: I don’t think that’s it. I’m awesome and I never got three stickers.

 

Need Last Minute Gift Ideas? How About a Deadly but Curable Disease?

Sweet Mgazi

Please select the answer that best completes the following phrase:

The conversation below took place in the:

a) Bathroom
B) Bedroom
C) Vatican
D) Car

The correct answer is D, of course. I actually have a tag that links to all conversations that have taken place in the car. All the best do!

Mgazi: Mommy, can you give me a TB shot for Christmas?

Me: What?

Zaffron: What?

Me: Gaz, do you want to me take you to the Dr’s office to get another vaccination? Honey, you cried like crazy, don’t you remember? You kicked. You screamed. You actually bit me!

Mgazi: I didn’t bite you.

Me: Okay, you didn’t bite me. But I could tell you wanted to.

Mgazi: I want to have the shot so I can give it to you and daddy and Zaffy.

Me: Do you mean you want to administer the Tuberculosis vaccine to the entire family?

Zaffron: No, mom! Geesh! Don’t you get it? She wants to jab the needle in our arms and push the thingy down so that we can stay healthy and not get diseases! [Zaffron throws her hands in the air, exasperated that once again she has to explain something to her dense, and obviously slow, mother.]

Mgazi: Uh huh. I want my family to be healthy. So I’m going to stick you here [she points to her shoulder] and here [she points to her leg] and here [she lifts up her left butt cheek and pokes at it. (Or maybe it was her right, I'm not sure. I was watching all of this through the rearview mirror.)]

Me: Sweetie, that is a very kind thought but it’s not going to happen.

Mgazi: Fine then. If you won’t do it, I’ll just ask Santa!

The Twelve Days of Christmas – Mommy Juice Style

Kinko! For God's sake, please don't poop in there! Bad kitty!

Kinko! Bad kitty! Does that look like the litter box?

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave me to me…

  • a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Two Little Loves –  Zaffy and Mgazi, of course, the best daughters a mom could ask for
  • and a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Three “Take Ten”s – you know, when you’re feeling a little like you are going to lose it. Like you might snap. Like your head might pop and spray brain tissue across the room (Hey, if it reached the Christmas Tree I wouldn’t have to go digging around for those lost ornaments!) Like you are about to smack someone right then and there even though there are witnesses. Breathe. Take ten.
  • Two Little Loves
  • and a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the fourth day of Christmas, my stinkin’ cat whose about to get kicked out of the house gave to me…

  • Four Kitty Turds –  Every morning without fail, I wake up to find my otherwise adorable feline friend, Kinko, has shat somewhere in the house — on the kids’ bathmat, on the kids’ bedroom carpet, on my husband’s pants. (Hey, Russell, it’s not just me that gets annoyed when you leave your clothes on the floor!)
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • and a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the fifth day of Christmas, my pawn broker gave to me…

  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings – yeah, money’s a little tight.
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Six Hairs a Graying, Teeth Decaying, Kids Disobeying, Spittle Spraying, Thoughts Betraying – I’ve had a bad day six, just sayin’.
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Seven… seven… damn! What rhymes with “swimming”? Brimming? Skimming?
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Eight Maids a Cleaning – I don’t own cows, what do I need Eight Maids a Milking for? Now, if a cow produced wine… well, then, this would deserve a rethink…
  • Seven Diets a Slimming <– lame
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the ninth day of Christmas, my therapist gave to me…

  • Nine Days Xanaxing – Can you imagine? Nine anxiety-free days. *Blissful Sigh* Thank God for therapists who are willing to treat people who don’t actually have anything wrong with them! Without all my perfectly normal worries and fears, maybe I’ll finally get some sleep!
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven Trees a Trimming <– blech
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the tenth day of Christmas, my children gave to me…

  • Ten Morns to Sleep In – Holy crap! The Xanax is working!
  • Nine Days Xanaxing
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven… seven…. seven… nothing
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love  gave to me…

  • Eleven Tears a Wiping – I’m not crying because I’m overwhelmed, scared, and feeling as though I’m not good enough. I’m crying because I’m pissed!
  • Ten Morns to Sleep In
  • Nine Days Xanaxing
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven Periods of Skipping – OMG! It’s Meno Clause!
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my credit card gave to me…

  • Twelve Brookstone Products Humming – What? Did I say something?
  • Eleven Tears a Wiping
  • Ten Morns to Sleep In
  • Nine Days Xanaxing
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven – why are you even reading seven? There’s nothing to see here!
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free!!!!!!!!!!!!

First image courtesy of m_bartosch / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Last image courtesy of photoexplorer / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Mgazi Puts Her Foot Down

Two of my co-workers got married this year. In the first wedding, my girls were flower girls. They got new dresses, little gifts from the bride, a lot of attention, and cake. They were thrilled.

The second wedding was for adult guests only. My kids weren’t even invited. Zaffy accepted this fate, content that she would attend the rehearsal dinner (Russell was officiating). Mgazi was ticked off.

Mgazi: So, what? I cannot go to Auntie Jen’s wedding?

Me: No, you can’t go to the wedding, honey. It’s for grown-ups only.

Mgazi: Auntie Jen just wants all the cake!

She put her hands on her hips. I believe she considered her lack of access to wedding cake to be the most egregious aspect of the whole matter.

Me: Gaz, sometimes adults just want to hang out with other adults.

Mgazi: Well, this makes me mad. I’m not inviting Auntie Jen to my wedding. I’m not inviting any grown-ups to my wedding.

Me: Sweetie, you are five years old. You’ll be a grown-up yourself when you get married.

Mgazi: So? No grownups.

Me: So, you and your husband will be the only grown-ups there.

Mgazi: Good.

Me: Okay, I support you. But you realize that I’ll have to support you from afar. Under this rule, I won’t be allowed at your wedding either.

Mgazi: I’ll bring you some cake.

From Manslaughter to Homicide…

So, a few weeks ago I accidentally crushed an innocent snail and caused irreparable damage to my children. That was nothing. Last night I killed a centipede. A 5-inch centipede that I found in my tub. I had no choice. It was threatening my children (both physically and verbally)!

I feel awful. I try to avoid killing things at almost any cost. But centipedes are tough. They are scary and their bite is fierce. I’ve seen a grown man cry after getting bitten by a centipede at a campfire. He was in so much pain that he couldn’t eat his toasted marshmallow. (It turned out okay… that was s’more for me!)

Here’s how it went down. Got home from work. Children driving me crazy. I went into the bathroom to pee (and for some peace and quiet). A dark blob in the tub caught my eye as I walked by. A 10-inch centipede was curled up underneath the bathmat in the shape of an “S.”. I could see him because our bathmat is semi-clear. It used to be perfectly clear, but the plastic is old and mildewed and it’s discolored over the years. (Don’t judge me!)

Anyway, I called out to the kids, “Hey, kids! Come see what I found!” They came running and peeked into the tub.  Zaffron, who is seven, decided that the insanity that was sure to follow was definitely not in her best interest and retreated to the living room to read some Junie B. Jones.

Mgazi, who is five, was intrigued. She smelled money.

“Hey, Gaz. Wanna earn a dollar?”

“Yes, I do,” she said.

I needed time to think. So I grabbed a tupperware container. This is my go-to tool when I have a creature to capture, be it cockroach, spider or gecko, tupperware buys you time.

I poked at the bathmat and the centipede didn’t move so I figured he was dead. Imagine my surprise (you won’t have to, I’m gonna tell you all about it) when Mgazi peeled away the bathmat and the centipede darted — no sprinted — no SHOT across the tub. I shrieked. Mgazi shrieked. And I dropped the tupperware, which bounced off the side of the tub, hit Mgazi in the forehead, ricocheted off the faucet and landed squarely on top of the centipede, effectively trapping him like I had originally intended.

All was going as planned.

Which meant I could pee. As I sat on the toilet, deep in thought, carefully crafting my next move, Mgazi interrupted. “So,” she said, looming over me with a hand on her hip. “What are you going to do about this?”

“I don’t know yet, Gaz. I don’t want to kill him.”

“Just use your super powers.”

“Honey, I don’t have super pow–”

“WHAT? YOU HAVE BEEN LYING TO ME? YOU SAID THAT YOU HAVE –”

“OH! Those super powers! Yeah, yeah, those super powers don’t work unless I’ve had a healthy breakfast and you know we were running late this morning and…” I trailed off. “I think we need to call Daddy.”

Russell was no help at all.

“Honey! Can you come home? There is a 14-inch centipede in our tub!”

“Kill it,” he said.

“I can’t kill it! I want to capture it and release it into the wild.”

“Our backyard is not ‘the wild.’ You need to kill it. Grab one of my boots and just get it over with.”

“Honey, I really don’t want to –”

“Kill it.”

“But, I –”

“Kill it.”

“Okay then… super fun chat. See you when you get home!”

I turned to find Mgazi gazing up at me. In one hand, she held a single, somewhat mangled and definitely damp kleenex tissue. Her other hand was upturned, fully expecting cash payment.  ”Look,” she said. “I’ll take care of this, but you gotta give me five paper monies or I’m not doing it.”

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s so sweet of you offer. But Daddy told me I’m not allowed to put you in charge this time. Can we think of another way for you to earn money later?”

I realized I had to kill the centipede which by now had toured his 17-inch body all over of my tupperware… tupperware which I could never use again because of the ick factor.

Mgazi and I agreed she would be my back-up for 50 cents (to be paid in four dimes and five pennies – SCORE!). She held a wad of paper towels in one hand (for what, I don’t know) and a paper bag in the other (for me to hyperventilate in, should the need arise) and stood behind me at the ready.

I lifted the corner of the bathmat until about half was in the air and half was still connected to the tub. I carefully slid the tupperware imprisoning all 20-inches of the centipede to the middle of the tub, just under the center of the upturned mat. On the count of 23, one count for every inch of centipede, I lifted the tupperware container and dropped the mat.

Then I scrambled into the tub and stomped on the mat like a madwoman yelling the name of a different man that had wronged me each time my 3-inch heel hit the rubber. It was the most disgusting, heartbreaking thing I’ve done all week.

After I caught my breath, and shed a tear or two, I looked at what I had done. Thirty inches of centipede was smeared across my tub under my yellowed bathmat… which would never be used again.

Mgazi patted me on the shoulder in a consoling way. “Look,” she said. “If you want me to clean that up, you need give me a lot more money.”


Glass of white wineRecommended wine: Did I have a glass of wine after that episode? You bet your butt I did! Manage a Trois – a California Red. Has nothing to do with the subject of my post. Just what I had in the cupboard.

P.S. I lied to you just now. I didn’t have a glass of wine after killing the 4-foot long centipede. I had two.


 

100 Things You Probably Don’t Know About Me

I read somewhere that on your 100th blog post you should write 100 things about yourself. So, in honor of my 100th post, I present to you…

100 Things that You Probably Don’t Know About Me

  1. I am embroiled in an unhealthy and one-sided love affair with cheap wine.
  2. A colleague and I were once driving in South Africa when we were pulled over by men carrying big guns. When I tell the story now, I say we were pulled over “at gunpoint.” The guns were pointing somewhere… just not at us.
  3. When I was a kid, I wanted to name my future daughter Phronsie Brett, after a character in The Five Little Peppers.
  4. The first time I cried from joy was when my parents told my sister and I that they were going to have a baby. I was ten years old. It was Christmas morning, 1980.
  5. I resent getting old.
  6. The happiest hour of my life was the hour after my husband proposed to me.
  7. I can flip a quarter off my elbow and catch it in my palm.
  8. I learned to drive on a stick shift.
  9. The only time I ever heard my father swear was when he was teaching me to drive.
  10. During the summer between fifth and sixth grade I read 52 books. I thought I was a shoe-in for the Summer Reading Contest. Turns out I was wrong. Another girl won. She read 53 books. Her name was Sally Sokolowski.
  11. Some of my favorite family memories consist of holding séances with my cousins at my grandparents’ house.
  12. The last time I cried from happiness was when I received a 21-seond personal video message from Sean Stephenson.

  13. I once broke up with a boyfriend the day before my birthday. That night a girlfriend took me out to get drunk. Then we decided to dye my hair. It didn’t turn out well.
  14. The hardest I’ve ever laughed was the afternoon that my sister, Angela, and I decided to wax our underarms. I lost my nerve and couldn’t pull off the wax. We spent over two hours trying to melt it off my right armpit using matches.
  15. I am an expert in absolutely nothing.
  16. When my sister, Cori, was a baby, I used to take toys away from her before she was done playing with them. I then handed her something else that I thought was more interesting. When I was in college I was an intern for a PhD student doing a research study on this exact behavior. Turns out mothers who do not allow their children to naturally choose which toys to play with do serious damage to their kids. Sorry, Cor.
  17. I was once slapped by an old woman in the streets of Nepal.
  18. When I was a teenager I would regularly fantasize about going to a pep rally before the “big game.” In my fantasy I would be overcome by the heat of the bonfire and faint into the arms of a cute boy who would instantly fall in love with me.
  19. I’m judgmental and petty. Not all the time. But more often that I like.
  20. I have epilepsy. Several times I’ve lost consciousness and was caught by a cute boy. It sucks.
  21. I am terrified of screwing up my children.
  22. I broke my nose in high school when I was playing right field in a softball game. Pop fly. I lowered my glove for some reason, which allowed my face to catch the ball. When I tell the story, I played shortstop and the batter hit a line drive.
  23. The six weeks I spent in Africa were simultaneously the best and worst six weeks of my life.
  24. I’ve walked barefoot over hot coals three times, walked barefoot over broken glass twice, and broken an arrow with my throat.

  25. I got caught shoplifting from Wegmans grocery store when I was in middle school. Turns out that eating from the bulk food bins with no intent of paying for what you’ve eaten is considered stealing.
  26. I make killer ice cream.
  27. Parenting doesn’t come naturally to me. What? You didn’t know?
  28. I fish for compliments.
  29. The most emotional years of my life were in 1984, 1992, 1994, 2005, 2009, and 2012.
  30. I accidentally flooded my class toilet in Kindergarten because the bathroom was out of toilet paper. I used paper towels instead. The teacher was pissed. She made all the students in class put their heads down on their desks in silence. The intent was that we stay that way until the culprit confessed. I never did.
  31. I care terribly what you think. (It doesn’t even matter if I like or respect you.)
  32. I became engaged to be married at 5 years old. My marriage proposal came from a boy of the same age. He sent it by mail. It was written in white chalk on black construction paper.
  33. My first concert ever was Captain and Tenille.
  34. When Zaffron was born I was terrified of her. Russell took care of her almost exclusively for the first three days.
  35. When I was a kid I had a huge thing for men with mustaches. HUGE.
  36. I had a very happy childhood.
  37. I idolize Harry Chapin.
  38. I won “Most Original Costume” in my elementary school’s costume contest. I was a McDonald’s French Fry Guy. When the local newspaper lined up the various winners on stage to take a photo, my ping pong ball eyeball fell off and bounced off the stage.
  39. I’ve travelled to thirteen countries: Canada, Mexico, Japan, Thailand, Nepal, Swaziland, South Africa, Cote d’Ivoire, Burkina Faso, Australia, Belize, France, and South Korea.
  40. I’ve fallen in love exactly three times. I’ve never fallen out.
  41. When I was a kid the worst punishment I could receive was being grounded from the family typewriter.
  42. I was a horrible mother to Mgazi for the first 6 months.
  43. I do a mean imitation of a horse.
  44. Last August, I climbed the Waimea Bay rock with the intent of jumping off into the ocean. I lost my nerve. I’ve been marinating in self-imposed humiliation ever since.
  45. I once told a joke to a captivated crowd of family friends that lasted over twenty minutes. The joke was about a giant pink gorilla. I killed it. (The joke, not the gorilla.)
  46. Sometimes I think that Post-Paris Kristine is just a figment of my imagination.
  47. When I was in high school I had a pin on my denim jacket that read, “Once I thought I was wrong, but I was mistaken.” I thought it was original.
  48. My sixth grade class had an ornament-making contest. I made a balsa wood Christmas tree hanging in a balsa wood oval frame. I got disqualified because the teachers thought I didn’t do the work myself. The winner was Sally Sokolowski. She made a God’s eye. Have you ever seen a God’s eye? I could have made a stupid God’s eye in my sleep.
  49. In high school I had a pen name. Myrtle T. Clearwater.
  50. My favorite vacation with my husband was on a Disney Cruise. Don’t ask me. I’m baffled too.
  51. I cried during the last chapter of the last book of Harry Potter.
  52. I have a horrible memory. I don’t know how old I was when I lost my first tooth or got my period.
  53. I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a kid.
  54. I was 26 years old before I realized that things don’t always turn out “okay.”
  55. I sucked my thumb until I was in sixth grade. The only reason I stopped was because I picked up a fan (while it was plugged in and turned on) and sliced all the skin off my thumb.
  56. I’m not one of those people who have no regrets.
  57. I have seen the Monkees in concert six times. No, this is not one of my regrets.
  58. I’m sometimes embarrassed to say I’m a blogger.
  59. My mom worked for NutraSweet when I was a teenager. Several types of candy used it as an ingredient at the time and they used to send her logoware. I used to walk around wearing a t-shirt that had “WHOPPERS — The Original Malted Milk Balls” printed across the chest.
  60. I think my first memory is of falling down the basement stairs.
  61. A 911 operator once hung up on me during an actual emergency. (Well, it was my friend, Sam, that they hung up on. But the story flows better if I substitute myself for my friend.)
  62. In sixth grade I auditioned for the lead in the Christmas play. When I sang “O Holy Night” for my teacher, she stopped me short and remarked, “Boy, you sure do sing with your mouth wide open, don’t you?” I didn’t get the part. Guess who did? Sally Sokolowski.
  63. I once had a “run-in” with Owen Wilson in a bar in Waikiki.
  64. My favorite joke of all time is The Pig with the Wooden Leg.
  65. If I knew any famous people, I would definitely name drop.
  66. I think I’m funnier than I actually am.
  67. I have a horrible memory. I have no idea how old I was when I experienced my first kiss or what I said in my wedding vows.
  68. In sixth grade I had the best friend in the world. Sally Sokolowski.
  69. My dad taught me that you never boo at a hockey game. And you always clap for a player who makes a good play. It doesn’t matter which team that player is on.
  70. In high school biology class I dissected a grasshopper and wore his leg on my yellow sweater the rest of the day — like a gruesome corsage.
  71. My favorite and boldest Halloween costume was a short dress accompanied by a a bow with a simple gift tag tied around my neck that read, “To: Men. From: God.”
  72. I adore hyperbole.
  73. My favorite books of all time are: A Prayer for Owen Meany, Life with Father, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Straight Man.
  74. I value honesty more than almost any trait. Honesty made more attractive by decorative details is even better.
  75. When I was a kid, I memorized the Announcer’s Test. My dad taught it to me and my sister during long drives. If we made a mistake, he’d stop and we’d have to wait until the next long drive to try again. My dad memorized it by listening to Jerry Lewis say it, just one time, on the radio. I can still repeat it to this day.
    • One hen.
    • One hen. Two ducks.
    • One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese.
    • One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four Limerick oysters.
    • One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four Limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises.

    And on and one until number 10…

    • One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four Limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises. Six pairs of Don Alverzo’s tweezers. Seven thousand Macedonians in full battle array. Eight brass monkeys from the ancient, sacred crypts of Egypt. Nine apathetic, sympathetic, diabetic old men on roller skates with a marked propensity towards procrastination and sloth. Ten lyrical, spherical, diabolical denizens of the deep who haul stall around the corner of the quo of the quay of the quivery, all at the same time.

  76. When Russell and I were dating, I accidentally backed my car into his ex-girlfriend’s car in a parking lot. It was a total accident. I swear.
  77. I have an intense dislike for the aloha shirt.
  78. I scored in the 97th percentile on the verbal portion of my GMAT. Don’t ask me. I’m baffled too.
  79. I once had a fist-fight with a neighbor boy on my front lawn. I was protecting my sister’s honor. In my version of the story, I won.
  80. During my sophomore year of college I owned and operated a singing telegram company.
  81. I was baptized when I was thirteen years old. It was a full-on dunking.
  82. The first time I got drunk was in eighth grade. Gin.
  83. My mother used to say I was never happy unless I was complaining. Thirty-five years later, I think I finally agree with her.
  84. In sixth grade my friends and I put a girl on trial for stealing my Rubik’s Cube. We appointed her a lawyer and rigged the jury. The verdict came back guilty. We also planted the Rubik’s Cube in her locker. I’ve always wanted to apologize but I can’t remember who we did it to.
  85. My first job was at Kentucky Fried Chicken.
  86. I breast-fed Zaffy until she was 22 months old. By that time she could ask for it by name. (It got a little freaky.)
  87. I believed in Santa Claus until I was in sixth grade. When my parents finally told me the truth I locked myself in the bathroom and alternately sobbed and shouted “YOU LIED TO ME” through the door.
  88. I fervently defend my right to tell my children that there is indeed a Santa Claus.
  89. In seventh grade I started drinking Diet Coke. I hated the taste but kept drinking it because I thought it was cool. Now I crave it.
  90. At the age of forty-two I started drinking coffee. I hated the taste but kept drinking it because I thought it was cool. Now I crave it.
  91. As a kid, I loved to play the 1980 Atari 2600 version of Space Invaders. I even remember flipping the game. (When you reach 10,000 and the score flips back to zero.)
  92. Once I was trick-or-treating at a neighbor’s house and I stood on the wrong side (the hinge side) of the screen door. I could barely see out of my costume and when the lady in the house opened her screen door I didn’t move out of the way. The door knocked me off the porch and into the bushes. My arms were pinned to my sides and I couldn’t move so there I stayed, wedged between the house and her bushes until my sister grabbed my dad from the bottom of the driveway, and he came and pulled me out. The lady was mortified so I got extra candy. Such is the life of a french fry guy.
  93. I’ve gone to a nude beach. I even took off my clothes.
  94. Until recently, I believed that pride was a sin.
  95.  I have never had a cavity.
  96. The best I ever felt about my body was when I was pregnant with Zaffron.
  97. I’m a piss-poor long-distance friend.
  98. Growing up in Buffalo, New York, I had a very sheltered childhood. Everybody I knew was white. There were a couple of black kids in school and one Chinese boy in church. (Where’d you disappear to, Peter Ho?) Except for the congregation at my church, everyone I knew was Catholic. 90% of the kids at my high school were Polish. Imagine my surprise when I got to college and discovered that the Italian boy I had been dating for three weeks was actually from India.
  99. Five days ago I dyed my hair blue.
  100. I love myself.

It’s Mummy Juice… Literally!

It’s Mummy Juice!

Each year I struggle with finding a semi-healthy snack or treat to send with the kids to school at Halloween time. This year, I found an idea that included wrapping juice boxes in tape with googly eyes… Mummy Juice! Brilliant and clever, right?. Right. Just as long as I realize that I am not the one who is brilliant and clever.

Zaffron: Mom! This is such a cool idea.

Mgazi: It is, Mom.

Me: I know, right?

Zaffron: I know you didn’t come up with it on your own. Was it Daddy?

Me: Wait, why would you think I couldn’t come up with something like this on my own?

Zaffron: Don’t take this the wrong way, Mom. It’s just that this is such a creative idea.

Me: Hey! I’m creative all the —

Zaffron: It was Daddy, was it?

Me: No, it wasn’t Daddy.

Mgazi: It was probably Daddy.

Me: It wasn’t your father.

Zaffron: Hmmm. I wonder who is was… Can you pass me a googly eye?

In the end, I didn’t admit to anything — too insulted to think my children would consider my husband more creative than me. He doesn’t have a crafty bone in his body (unless duct tape is involved).

The little stinkers did call it though. Of course it wasn’t my idea. I don’t have time to be coming up with original crafts! I have a family to feed, cats to ignore, mystery goo to scrape off the floor!

I don’t have time for this crap! That’s what Pinterest is for!

 

 

Strategically Ignoring My Children Since 2005…

It occurs to me that both of my girls, Mgazi, age 5 and Zaffron, age 7, ask me “why” multiple times a day. What I want to know is this:

Do I really have to answer?

I’ve been giving the whole matter some thought and I realize that my children’s questions usually fall under one of three categories.

Category 1: Technical questions. These are the ones that often stump me. “Why does ice melt?” Usually these questions are asked in the car, thereby thwarting a quick Google search. So, I answer the technical questions the same way each and every time without fail. “You know what, honey, that is a great question for your father.” Done.

Category 2: Abstract questions. “Why is the color orange called the color orange?” I answer abstract questions by throwing the question back at the inquiring child as though I think it’s important for her to come up with the answer on her own. “Hmmm… why do YOU think the color orange is called the color orange?” Of course, I’ve done this so many times that the children see through my ruse. After a typical toss-back, the child will reply, “I have no idea, Mom. That’s why I asked YOU!” There is a sigh and then a grumpy and defeated, “forget it.” The child is frustrated and I do feel a little guilty… for about 15 seconds.

Category 3: Must-Know questions. I look at questions from categories 1 and 2 as questions born from curiosity. If the child doesn’t get an answer, and let’s face it, she usually doesn’t if the question is posed to me, life will go on. Her education or mood may be slightly impacted but I’m pretty confident that there is no lasting damage. But Must-Know questions are a different matter altogether. These are the questions that just might play a role in helping my child “figure out” life. The ones where my answers or lack-thereof could influence how my kid views the world. I struggle to answer these questions. Mightily.

“Why does that little girl on the street not have a house?” or “Why does that person’s face not look pretty?” or “Why can’t you sing in a band if you’re dead?” The Must-Know questions always make me a little sad. Because I know that hard as I try, I won’t be able to give an adequate enough answer. “The little girl on the street doesn’t live in a house because her parents cannot afford to pay rent,” I’ll say. A second “why?” invariably comes back to me. “Well, it’s expensive to have a home, and some people don’t have jobs that pay enough to cover the costs of everything they need.” Pause. “Why?” It goes on and on. It’s heartbreaking. I can explain the simple economics or science but I don’t have a complete understanding of why the world is the way it is. It just is.

So, back to my original question. Do I have to answer each and every time my kid asks a question? Heck no. Depending on the circumstances, I’m perfectly happy to ignore, pass off, or half-answer a curiosity question. It’s a survival technique.

But the Must-Knows… yes. I have to do my best to answer those — especially when they center on values or ethics. Because if I don’t take the time to guide my children on the things that matter, I risk that they might ask someone else.

Mommy, Why Did You Crush My Fingers in the Car Door?

This photo has nothing to do with this post

So, I accidentally shut the car door on Mgazi’s fingers the other day. I am POSITIVE that she was more scared than hurt. Regardless, there was a lot of crying, comforting, and apologizing. She was crying. I was apologizing. She finally calmed down and said, “Mommy, I just don’t understand WHY you would do that to me.”

I said, “I didn’t do it on purpose, Gaz. It was an accident. I’m sorry.”

She replied, “It’s okay. I just wish I knew why you did that thing.”

“Mgazi, I just told you. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to shut the door on your hand. I am very very sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mommy. I love you.” She paused. “Can you just tell me why?”

I pretended not to hear her, turned up the car radio. Why wouldn’t she just let it go? Did she want a bigger/better apology? Was she angling for a “Mommy-is-feeling-guilty” ice cream cone? Or did she truly want to know WHY I slammed her fingers in the car door?

Hey Gaz, pick the answer that best fits the question.

A) Because Mommy is rushed and not paying attention.

B) Because you didn’t move your fingers fast enough.

C) Because Mommy has a little pent-up aggression quietly bubbling under her seemingly smooth surface… kidding!

The answer is actually D.

D) Because she did. She did and she’s really sorry.