We are living in a strange time.  Every day families are adjusting to the changes brought on by a miserable economy (which is thankfully slowly climbing out of the dark hole it plunged into).  We wiggle here, poke there, and do what needs to be done to try to restore some semblance of the normal we took for granted just a few short years ago.

This post by Shauna at *O Pish Posh* brought tears to my eyes as she describes her experiences,

We can’t eat lunch together anymore. These days he ventures out for fast food near his office, or takes recommendations for something decent to eat in whatever city he’s visiting for the week. She giggles with her new friends in the cafeteria at 10:20 in the freaking morning. Me? I talk to Zoe Pudl at the kitchen table. The dog is clearly disappointed that I don’t drop crumbs the way Pea does.

Lives are changing all around us. Kids grow up, go to college, start new jobs, get married.  Husbands mourn lost jobs and struggle to find their place in the new world.  Wives fight for the well being of their families.  Some how. Some way.

Photo by DNA Michaud via flickr creative commons.

Nothing is more maddening than waiting in the car line to drop the kids off at school and the car in front of you just sits there.  And sits.  And sits.  Finally, a kid gets out then reaches back inside the car to get his or her backpack.  Puts it on.  Then reaches back in the car ONCE AGAIN to grab a book or money or whatever else they were not organized enough to have ready when they reached the front of the line.

This drives me nuts!

Busy Mom doesn’t like it much either.  That’s why she takes steps ahead of time to have the kids ready when they reach the front of the line,

I would get them to unbuckle their seat belts when we were a couple of car lengths away from the drop-off zone and put their backpacks on so they’d be ready to get out of the car quickly.

For no particular reason, I’d say, “Time to unbuckle, Chuckle.”, and that just kind of stuck.

The family must be a riot to be around because they figured the “uckle” would now be started with the day of the week… (M)uckle, (T)uckle, (W)uckle.  Until Friday. Then it’s Zuckle.  Wise decision, friend.

Photo by thienzieyung via flickr creative commons.

I watch television shows like “Survivorman” and “Man vs. Wild” with keen interest.  Not that I’d ever find myself in a situation where I’d have to urinate in the water to attract a shark so I can jump on top of it, wrestle it, and have some protein for dinner…

Still, I wonder what kind of boys these TV hosts must have been to grow into men knowing this.  What kind of heart attacks did their mothers have as the boys brought in bark to boil for tea or edible bugs for dinner.  Did the moms stress when the kids went camping with their scouting troop?  Did they hyperventilate if Dad took them hiking?

I have never had boys to raise but my friends who do say they are very different from raising girls.  Boys - they say - tend to be more boisterous and fearless.  They won’t blink an eye to climb up on a roof to jump onto the back of a truck.  They will scamper up a tree to throw down a parachuted plastic army guy.

The worst that happened to my kids is when my oldest climbed a bookcase that wasn’t attached to the wall.  It fell over, but was thankfully stopped by another piece of furniture before hitting my daughter.

What’s the most dangerous thing your child did while growing up?

I hated being sick when my children were little.  Now that they’re old enough to somewhat take care of themselves, I’m not wracked with as much guilt (piled on the already feeling physically bad) when under the weather.

When they were little, I depended on the TV to entertain them when I was sick.  I’d manage to crawl out of bed to feed them breakfast and lunch, change diapers, give them something to drink.  But actually engaging them between sneezing and coughing was almost impossible.  Thank you Belle and the Beast for hours of babysitting.

I apologize for not writing these last few days, but you’ve guessed it.  Sick.  Again.  Until I’m vertical again… get well soon.

When we were growing up, there were six of us kids at home and Dad was the only one who worked (in the military) outside the home.  We didn’t know we were poor because we were fed, happy, and encouraged to embrace whatever life threw our way.

But my brother’s post today about his daughter wanting her hair curled reminded me of our Mom’s curler box - it was a Kentucky Fried Chicken box that she had cleaned out.  She had pink curlers, black curlers, hair nets, and bobby pins inside that box.  I wonder if she still has it.

My brother’s daughter Beth wanted her hair curled,

… she was absolutely thrilled. I wish I had taken a photo of her this morning after the curlers came out, but being a Bad Dad, I neglected to do this. So all I have to publish for the whole world to see, is the before picture.  The upside to this is that it gets me out of brushing her hair.  Anyhow, she went to school this morning all dolled up and excited …

I can’t believe he didn’t take an “after” picture.  I’m not going to embarrass the kid (though she is PRECIOUS) with the before picture here.

We used “rag” curlers as teenagers because the round curlers were so not cool.  With rag curlers, you wet your hair then roll it up and tie it with a scrap of fabric.  The end result was pretty awesome - it made me look like Alannis Morisette.  Here’s a how-to link by Vixen Vintage and her intro to the process,

When searching the web for rag curl directions, I came across creepy child beauty pageant blogs that said “cut some fabric, wet your hair, roll it up, tie it”.

Do that and you will cry from the result.

After quite a while of doing rag curls on myself from chin length hair, to past shoulder length, I can show you the the the little things to know only learned from trial and error. So here is the correct way to do rag curls.

Photo by Sophication.

This title pleases me:  Fabulous Afternoon At The Lake: There’s No App For That

Written by Jamie at Blonde Mom Blog,

You need to remember what it’s like to wait out an afternoon thunderstorm while your girls squeal with delight over the fish they catch at the boat dock with the help of their daddies.

You need to laugh as you watch your daughters go tubing for the first time and love it so much that they don’t want to stop.

I am so ready for a day like this.  Ahhhh summer.

Photo by bright royalty via flick creative commons.

When Annie was in kindergarten, the bus brought her right to our driveway since she only went a half day.  One day I came home from work to learn that the bus zoomed right by the house without stopping, ultimately giving Annie’s Grandma, a heart attack.  Luckily the bus just circled the block and brought her right to our driveway like it was supposed to.

The same thing happened to Les the other day.  When the bus came up the street, his Katie wasn’t on it,

Just about that time Melissa said she saw the bus coming back up the street. Katie was on it. The bus driver said he had finished his route and was heading back when he saw Katie’s head pop up in his rearview mirror.

Melissa asked Katie, “Why didn’t you get off the bus on our street?” Her answer? Her friend Abby was reading her a story and she wanted to find out how it ended. “You still should have gotten off the bus!” “But I wanted to see where the bus went.”

I understand your heart clutched in your chest, Les.  I really do!

Photo by katerha via flickr creative commons.

Well, the move is taking place as I speak!  We’ll pick up keys this afternoon, and start moving the boxes in this evening.  My children are elated!  Many people are concerned about how their children will respond to a move, as were we.  But there are a few things parents can do that will minimize the stress on the children, and perhaps even build excitement about their new place!

• Allow the children to be involved in choosing the new home.  You can only do this to an extent, but being involved gives children a sense of control,which is something they can feel a loss of when a move is taking place.
• Give the children choices…of rooms, paint color, room decor, etc. 
• Ask the kids to “help” pack…and remain patient as they do this!  I am very structured when it comes to packing, so I was a little nervous when my daughter offered to pack for my two-year-old.  But she has packed over three times what I have, and the important thing is that we get it there, right???
• As tempted as you are to send the kids away while you’re moving in, let them be a part of it…even if it’s just for a few hours.  My son is DYING to play with his “cars and trucks and trains in his new house”.  So the plan is to get some of his toys there, unpack them in his space, and let him play while we unpack elsewhere.

Remember to remain as calm as possible during your move, and speak positively of the experience.  We’ve been referring to ours as our latest adventure.  Your children will follow your lead.  And with your positive guidance, the move will be a positive experience for everyone.

Photo by popofatticus via Flickr Creative Commons.

I hold a Bachelor’s degree in Child Development and Family Services.  Today, I’m ready to give it back.  My almost three-year-old is OUT OF CONTROL. 

My sweet angel of two and a half years has morphed into the devil’s spawn.  He unlocks every lock on the doors and runs into the front yard and street, he pours EVERYTHING pourable out of it’s container onto any surface available, he shouts “potty words” at the top of his lungs when we’re in public, he opens exit doors that “alarm” when opened, AND…he takes his diaper off and pees…in MY bed…and on his sister.  A couple of nights ago, my husband and I awoke to a bottled water being poured into our bed at 2AM! 

You know what the worst part of all of this is?  Almost everyone I have talked to about this who has a boy has claimed this as “normal” boy behavior.  THIS IS NOT NORMAL.  Typical, maybe, but not normal. 

Thank GOD the kid is cute!  I am going to fall back on that until this “stage” passes.  And until it does, WATCH OUT PEOPLE!!! 

Photo by soursob via Flickr Creative Commons.