Would You Care For a Mint, Ma'am? Hors d'oeuvres?

My husband and I have recently begun receiving turn-down service in the evenings. For no obvious reason, my almost 9 year-old son has been sneaking into our bedroom and making our bed.  He then sets out a little homemade placard that says "Relax, Revive, Refresh."  Under the placard he carefully arranges a couple of candies.  Once it was jellybeans, another time it was chocolate-covered espresso beans. I have no explanation.  He hasn't done anything bad, that I'm aware of, nor is he currying favor or trying to earn some sort of big purchase.  I realize this sounds made-up, but here's a picture (I ate the chocolate already.):

I am aware that this is all a bit show-offy, but please consider that I am simultaneously admitting that I never make my bed, and my kid does it for me. Possibly out of pity, or shame. My meager list of housekeeping skills/priorities just does not include making my bed every morning. Judge if you must.  Secondly, be honest.  If your kid did this, would you not mention it at least to a couple of people?

The fact is, he is an awesome kid with an old soul, but admittedly often deviates from the norms of behavior for other kids his age. Not too long ago, he said to me, "Mom.  I'm hungry."  I told him to go make himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. So naturally, he got out the rolling pin and rolled the slice of bread flat and cut off the crust.  He then put a banana on the bread, and a stripe of peanut butter and a stripe of jelly, and rolled the bread up and sliced it into 1/2 inch slices. Ta-da!  Peanut butter, jelly and banana sushi rolls.

His didn't look quite as neat as Rachel Ray's, but you get the idea.

This was one of his original hors d'oeuvre creations-
Toasted parmesan cheese and corn wrapped in smoked turkey slices.
He took the picture himself, because he's trying really hard to make it onto my food blog.

He told me that the librarian at his school, who just retired, overheard him whistling the theme song to Gilligan's Island and got it stuck in her head. She had expressed surprise that he was not only familiar with the theme song but also the characters and the series in general- it did after all originally air in the mid-1960s.  His interest in old-timey stuff partly our fault, as we often talk about things that happened in the 90s.  And also Amazon, because my husband found a deal where we got the entire series for under $30.  It's really a terrible show, but the kids loved it.  We were (and are still) able to use it as a bribe:  If you get ready for bed efficiently and cooperatively, you guys can watch an episode of Gilligan's Island. 

Halloween 2010. And no, there is no Professor on the way.
You can read my Hotel Camping post for details on that.

It's really kind of neat, having a kid like my son. He converses well with older adults, who find him interesting if not charming- when he's not being sullen.  The hors d'oeuvres are creative and tasty- even if the countertop has peanut butter and jelly glopped all over it. And who doesn't appreciate a jellybean at the end of a long day at the office? So my answer, when he asks for extra snuggles at night (I figure my pre-bedtime snuggles with him are limited anyway, as he merges into tweenhood), is always emphatically yes.

Life is Approximately Fair



Sometimes one kid gets more smoothie than the other.
Is anyone getting the Norman Rockwell reference here?

 One of the most valuable lessons my dad ever taught me was that life's not fair.  You can picture the scene, right? Kids whining about whatever real or imagined transgression in the world of candy/space in the backseat/size of the piece of veggie that needs to be eaten.  Somebody finally yells, "Daddy!  That's not fair!!!"  And whatever it was, it wasn't fair.  But my dad's long-suffering response? "Too bad.  Life's not fair."



You gotta look good for a job interview.

 It's hard for me to guess how many times I heard this over my childhood and adolescence, but it was enough to ingrain the lesson into the back drop of my psyche.  And as I observe life around me, and hear stories about peoples' lives, I realize how true it is.  Life is not fair.  We teach our kids that life should be fair, we teach them about sharing, giving, and other societal niceties that they will need in order to navigate through life.  And we teach them about fairness. We teach them that it doesn't matter what you look like on the outside, or what kind of clothes you wear.  It SHOULDN'T matter how you look on the outside, or what kind of clothes you wear, but it kind of does, otherwise, why should you need to clean up if company's coming over? Why else would you need to look good for a job interview? The reality is that some people have nicer clothes or toys, or are smarter or faster or stronger, or get to do things that are more fun.  We need to be grateful for what we have.  Period. 



Some kids are just more glamorous than others.
They also get hounded by the paparazzi.



Of course as a parent heavily invested in family harmony, I strive to appear fair, but I have no reservations about teaching them that Life is Not Fair.  "Mom!  He got a bigger piece than me.  That's not fair!!!"  Answer? Too bad.  Life's not fair.  And he is bigger than you anyway, so it's ok that he got a bigger piece.  At the very least, it puts an end to the whiny conversation, and it gets me out of having to count out jellybeans and measure each kid's slice of pie.



Sometimes an uninvited thunderstorm crashes a pool party
and gets everyone wet. Meaning the parents in the lounge chairs.
 Totally not fair.



Some kids don't even have nice clothes to wear,
and end up just running around naked playing with garden hoses.



Other kids play in cardboard boxes because they don't have nice toys.

And some kids hog all the water in the shower.
Unbelievably unfair.





The Water's Warm! Wait...

Water is a double edged sword when it comes to little ones.  On the one hand, it's a great way to get them exhausted and let them have some fun.  On the other hand, they need to be a certain age and proficiency at swimming before you really can relax, even a little, by the poolside. Pools kill more kids than guns. They are deathtraps. I say 'pool' instead of 'ocean' or 'lake' because as I've mentioned previously that I am not a camper at heart.  (see my Hotel Camping entry.) I feel similarly about oceans and natural bodies of water, which are possibly worse with their unpredictable currents and hazardous sea creatures.  I prefer to swim in chlorinated water. I like that calming fake blue color, the lack of sand between my toes, and a nice thick clean beach towel. I'm digressing.  This is really about the kids.  (Although, if it weren't for the kids, I wouldn't be fantasizing about being on a poolside vacation.  So maybe it's really about me.)

I'm always initially excited to find that the kiddie pool is warm.  Kids like warm water, plus then you worry less about them getting cold and coming up to you 3 hours later with their purple lips quivering.  It always takes a few minutes for it to dawn on me that swim diapers only hold in solid waste, and that my kids are probably peeing in the pool as I watch them splash happily.  It's not their fault.  They're babies and can't control their bladders yet. Then as my brain slowly, reluctantly connects the dots, I look around and realize that all the other toddlers and infants are also wearing swim diapers, which are also (hopefully) holding in solid waste. And that that nice warm spot that I am wading through is really, in all likelihood, no matter how much I deny it, other kids' urine. Mixed with what I hope is a good amount of chlorine.

What are the options really?  It's not like the sea creatures are eliminating anywhere else but in the ocean. Yeah, it's diluted, but still.  There's dead stuff, whale poop, environmental contaminants, fish semen, you name it. I guess there's the bathtub, but that's boring and indoors.  So, kiddie urine pool it is.  My kids are well-vaccinated, urine is theoretically sterile.  And after all, what are immune systems for? As long as they don't drink the pool water...