A case for wheels...

Nearing the end of our drive home from Nashville, and I mean ten minutes from home, I started a spontaneous “stranger danger” quiz/life lesson with the kids. Mainly Meredith, because she’s never met a stranger and that scares me. Alex and I have had this talk for several years, he gets the same lecture at school, and he sometimes has to be coaxed to speak to people he’s known for years.

The entire conversation was started by me making a comment about the “kidnapper van” that cut us off on the on ramp. Sara B. always called near-windowless utility vans, “kidnapper vans.” Seems befitting to me.

We talked about what to do if we get separated and/or lost in a store. We talked about the different ways people might try to lure children away. We discussed the fact that a stranger would never pick them up from school, soccer, ballet, gymnastics, etc. regardless of how sick or injured they might tell them I am. We practiced reciting Brandon’s and my name, what city we live in, and sang our phone number to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

Alex steered the conversation toward what to do if someone did manage to snatch Meredith. We talked about what specifically and how loud to scream. We talked about fighting back. My suggestion was to twist down an attacker’s leg, like I saw on “The Facts of Life” in ’84. Alex’s suggestion was the testosterone-fueled, “KICK THEM IN THE PRIVATES!!!”

Lovely. However, I can’t argue with the effectiveness of the move.

About this time, I saw a light bulb turn on over Alex’s head.

“Mom, I should really have Heelies. I could get away from a kidnapper much, much faster if I had wheels.”

Alex has asked for Heelies 417 times since last fall and 417 times I’ve told him ‘no.’ Meredith is in on the act now, because the orthopedic surgeon told her Heelies ranked right up there with trampolines and monkey bars when it come to broken bones.

I can’t blame the kid for making an effective argument, but it didn’t change my mind.

Oh and to vouch for the effectiveness of my lecture: Literally the next morning as we were loading our swimming gear into the car, the meter reader pulled into our driveway. He waved "hello," I turned to grab our goggle bag out of the doorway and heard Meredith start a full conversation with a complete stranger.

From now on, I'm wearing steel-toed boots...

Here’s a post you won’t mind not having a photo to go along with…

I always make a big breakfast on Sunday. The kids take turns arguing over what I’m going to make, but it’s pretty standard breakfast fare. A miracle occurred yesterday and they both wanted pancakes. Brandon doesn’t vote, because you have to be out of bed to vote. He’s more than happy to eat anything placed in front of him.

I had a craving for chocolate chip pancakes. As you might guess, melting chocolate chips make a mess of the griddle. I always make the plain pancakes first and round out the batch with chocolate chip. Same story yesterday.

HOWEVER, as I was flipping the pancakes an errant chocolate chip flew out of a pancake and onto the second toe on my left foot. At first I was just happy it didn’t land on the floor I’d steamed the night before. Happiness was quickly eclipsed by the feeling of 375 degree chocolate melting on my toe.

(A word about my kitchen sink: I’m a nazi when it comes to stainless steel. The rest of my house can be a disaster, but my sink is clean at all times. I got through a can of Comet every two weeks. I even dry it out after I use it. I know that’s strange because Sara B., who is an authority on OCD cleaning laughed at me. We installed a sink in our garage, so Brandon could wash his hands out there after mowing, fertilizing, or hitting golf balls. If he wants to get under my skin, he’ll plant a bush and wash off the clay that passes for soil around here in my kitchen sink. I know. I’m crazy.)

So, imagine my horror when I was so desperate to get the Tollhouse Chip from Hell off my toe, I stuck my entire foot into the kitchen sink. Not to mention the sheer agility it took to do so without falling on my ‘rear-hind,’ as Alex used to call it.

When the rest of my family figured out what had happened they all started laughing. Alex said, “Mom? Are you okay? I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just so funny!” It was funny. I was laughing through tears. As soon as I got the chocolate off my toe, I noticed the skin was already started to do something weird. An hour later, I had a blister the exact size and shape of a chocolate chip, minus the swirl.

I’ll spare you the details in case you’re having breakfast while reading, but the blister is all but gone and I’m able to wear flip-flops, which was my biggest concern. It’s a good thing because workman’s comp isn’t available to moms.

Sorry, forgot I had a blog...

My friend Michelle was in for a summer visit last week and we went to Nashville to show her the sites, visit my parents, and pick up more diet sweet tea from Publix. Originally, this started out as a play by play of our week, but I was so bored reading it that I imagine it would have lulled you to sleep. So, instead I’m going to use bullet points and strive for brevity!

· Michelle flew in a week ago Friday, just in time for Meredith’s dance recital. I don’t have many pictures, but here’s one in her costume standing on our scenic driveway.

Note to self: Even when in a hurry, pick a better background.

· Alex got a hole in one on Father’s Day. No, they weren’t playing putt-putt, it was an actual golf course. Yes, he only putted the hole, but he will look you in the eye and tell you, with absolute certainty, he got a hole in one.

· Michelle and I headed south with the kids on Monday. One of the many reasons I love Facebook: I asked for Louisville restaurant suggestions in a status update. Five minutes later, a sorority sister from California, of all places, suggested this gem!

It was described as half cafe half community art project. Righto! Not to be missed if you find yourself hungry in Louisville. You’ll need a GPS.

· While we were in Nashville, we did very touristy things. Meredith danced by herself in front of the lunch crowd at The Wild Horse Saloon. We went on a Duck Boat tour.

Meredith jumped at the chance to drive;

Alex was annoyed with the heat and humidity.

We also had dinner with our friend Stephanie and saw Burnin’ Las Vegas which is one of two bands I’ve ever seen in Nashville. Out of the two, they are my favorite.

· Michelle flew out of Nashville on Thursday. I did a photo-shoot for someone who works for my mom, while my children ran-sacked her office. Before we left town, we picked up Chess pie for Brandon, four gallons of diet sweet tea, and Cherry Limeades during Sonic’s ½ price happy hour. As Meredith says, “I love Happy Hour. It’s puts a smile on everyone’s face!” Uh Oh.

· The kids and I drove home and it was an interesting drive now that Alex can read. Examples: “What is Hooters? I keep seeing signs for ‘Hoo-Ters,’ with an owl on them.” “There’s an adult book store? Do they only have big chapter books?” I ordered blinders for him as soon as we got home.

That’s our week in a nutshell. We were glad to be home and spent almost four hours at the pool yesterday. Heaven! Next week, is fairly plan-free and I couldn’t be happier!

Sentimental Journey

For reasons unknown to me, I have always had a thing for grandfather clocks. I was fascinated with the one in The Land of Make Believe on "Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood." I used to play with the one in my doll house for hours and imagine it chiming. I’ve just always loved them and wanted one in my house.

Part of this might have to do with the both of my grandmothers. My mom’s mom used to sing me a song called “My grandfather’s clock,” that I loved. My dad’s mom had a grandfather clock in her house. When I was little and would stay all night, I’d lay in the twin bed in the guestroom and listen for it to chime. I loved knowing what time it was by how many chimes rang in the middle of the night.

When we moved into our house a couple of years ago, we talked about getting our own clock for the entryway. Instead we bought a water softener and installed a patio. Priorities.

A few years ago, my grandparents down-sized and their clock went to live with my Aunt Sue. As most of you know, my Aunt Sue passed away a few weeks ago after a short battle with a very aggressive cancer. My cousin Annie called to tell me they thought I should have my great, great, great grandmother’s china. Great! I didn’t want to ask where the clock was going at a time like that, but I was afraid it might wind up with someone outside our family. So, sheepishly I asked where it was going.

Annie is not one to hold back. She always tells it like it is, so I should have known better than to feel funny about asking. I just didn’t want to seem like a vulture. She said, “Why? Do you want it?! Take it! I hate that thing and Monte (her brother) doesn’t have room for it! It’s yours! When can you take it? It makes the corner look cluttered.”

So, when I went to the memorial service, we loaded the clock into the Tahoe and brought it home. My grandpa disassembled it for my drive home. Three seconds into my drive, I realized it was going to be a noisy ride. The hammers hit the chimes every time I hit a bump. It was annoying and oddly comforting at the same time. The chimes sounded just like I remembered, while the clock looked nothing like I remembered.

On Monday, my new friend Clark from the Noblesville Clock Company,

which is every bit as cute as it sounds, came to set up my old friend. Clark told me the clock is definitely German and probably around 100 years old. My grandparents bought it in an antique store in the late 60’s, and knew very little about it. My grandma just liked it, so they bought it and I’m so glad they did.

Here’s the funny part about the clock and my house. I think they were made for each other.

When our builder was building the house, he inexplicably built this weird area that was too tiny to be the coat closet it was supposed to be, and too large for an art niche. Guess what fits there perfectly? I couldn’t really get a good picture of it, because the angles are just too weird. You just have to trust me that it looks really great.

The ole clock sounds great too. It chimes every fifteen minutes and on the hour. After one night of leaving it on, I decided to turn off the chimes before going to bed. The kids absolutely love it. Meredith lies in front of it with a pillow and waits for it to chime. Alex has already claimed it as an heirloom when they put me out to pasture.

The chimes are loud and echo on our hardwoods. I wouldn’t want it any other way. It sounds like I’m nine years old and sleeping over at my grandparents’ house.

Her father's Daughter

It’s not a secret that most people associate Alex with Brandon and Meredith with me. Alex is pretty serious, always analytical, and occasionally wickedly funny. Meredith is “on” all the time. Sometimes to the point of annoyance. Just like her mother.

Today was a little different than our typical Monday. For one, Alex started Pioneer Camp today, so he was at Conner Prairie fishing and covering his arms and face in war paint. Brandon’s morning flight was full, so he worked from home today.

Meredith and I made brownies before her nap. Alex told me first thing this morning that today was “Man Day.” What? Evidently, he heard it on the news. I found out he was in fact, completely serious when they mentioned in on the lunch hour newscast. So, Meredith and I decided to make the men of our house treats. I was too tired to make cookies, so brownies from a box it was.

As we were making the brownies, Meredith asked 37 times if she could lick the spatula. We’d just gotten home from her dentist appointment with no cavities, so why not? As she was licking the batter, I picked up my camera.

The second picture looked too posed. Too pagenty. Too weird. I said, “Merdi, stop it! You look crazy! Just be normal.” She said, “O.K., how’s this?!”

Now, if you’ve ever tried to take a photo of Brandon, you might know it’s very hard to get a normal one out of him. He will make bunny ears, like a third grader desperate to impress. He will let his mouth hang completely open just to be annoying. Most typically, he crosses his eyes.

Maybe she’s more like Brandon than anyone knows. Lord help us!

It never ceases to amaze

Performance programs are not Alex’s bag. Whether we were dressed and ready to go to the “Spring Sing” in preschool, the “Kindergarten Showcase,” or a VBS show, it didn’t matter, we knew we would sit in vein waiting for him to do something. Every once in awhile, we got lucky and Alex mouthed a few bars of a familiar song. Once in a blue moon, he would do a half-hearted hand motion. I always missed those moments because by that time, I’d given up and packed away the camera.

Yesterday was the final day of VBS and that always means a show of some sort. I had reason to be enthusiastic yesterday and not just for the sake of my friends and their children. Meredith was in the show too, and I had no doubt about her enthusiasm.

I was wrong. Completely wrong. Meredith was a grouch. She was “dehausted” and not interested in singing or dancing. At all. Alex sang every song and made sure he had the moves down pat. Just when I think I know my children, they prove to be total strangers.

Alex was even on the set of the game show, which served as the center of the week. He answered a Bible question…on a microphone. I fainted from shock.

I’m kidding.

At the end of the game show, the teachers who the kids handily trounced were told they would be slimed. They told the kids to stand on the tarp in front of the stage so they could be presented with a trophy. The teachers were not slimed.
The whole place went bananas. It was funny because the kids were absolutely stunned. As a rule, Presbyterians don’t like to make a mess.

We had my friend Rebecca and her kids over to swim after VBS. Meredith did her best to prove what a competent swimmer she is. I made her take another lesson. She has the scary combination of a little skill mixed with hubris. As Rebecca said, Meredith thinks she can will herself to do anything.

We swam until 4:00 p.m. and then went to Monical’s for pizza. Before we left, a big box of Gymboree candy arrived. I hit a super sale on-line and had a 20% off coupon. Leslie Bergerstein lives!!! In the box was lemon yellow tutu/ skirt. Meredith peeled off what I’d dressed her in minutes before and walked out the door in her over the top skirt. I grabbed my camera and told Brandon I wanted to stop and take some pictures in a patch I found earlier in the day. He was surprised to find out the patch was at the end of our street.

The box actually contained more stuff for Alex than Meredith. I’ve had a hard time finding clothes that we both like lately. Which probably says something about our taste! We don’t do character shirts, or sleeveless, or shirts that say things like, “If you think I’m a Stud, you should see My Dad!” I just like simple, classic clothes. The rest of the world does not. Once again, let me just say I belong in one of the Carolinas. I don’t care which. I’m not picky.

Anyway…Alex said, “Mom, I really needed some new clothes. Thanks for ordering these! You’re always out shopping and buying stuff for Meredith, but not me.”

I felt really bad and explained to him I just hadn’t seen anything I thought either of us would like.

He said, “Yeah, no kidding. Who needs another shirt with a skull on it?!”

No, we much prefer lobsters…Maybe I belong on Martha’s Vineyard???

Set...hike...we're done

About three weeks ago Alex told me he thought he’d like to play football in the fall. Two things happened. 1.) My heart soared because I LOVE football!!! 2.) I secretly flipped out because I just couldn’t imagine him being coordinated and focused enough to keep from getting killed.

I reasoned with myself that Peyton Manning is tall and thinish, kind of like Alex. You have to run really fast in football and Alex can most certainly do that. We might be okay. I certainly wasn’t going to keep him from trying something that interested him.

Monday we were at ballet and one of the other moms mentioned her son had football camp this week. I remembered Annie mentioning the same camp, but the week snuck up on me and I failed to register Alex. The mom, she has a name and it’s Chandy, encouraged me to just show up and see if we couldn’t register on the spot. It was a free camp, so what did I have to loose?

Alex was game for camp crashing and while I was a little nervous about just showing up unregistered, it quickly became apparent the high school football coach who runs the camp wasn’t all that concerned about forms and waivers.

There were probably upwards of 250 boys and you know how good I am with math and spatial reasoning, so I’m sure that’s completely accurate. The coach lined up the boys, barked off drill assignments and put them through the paces for the next hour and a half. It was like a well-oiled machine and the boys were very serious.

Alex was not at all serious. He fiddled around with the draw string on his shorts. He fake punched the boy in front of him repeatedly, which turned out to be our neighbor kid. He jumped the line several times only to be rightfully shoved back to his spot. He did everything except watch the drill. When his turn rolled around he acted like a deer in headlights and missed every thrown football.

I wasn’t surprised by his lack of coordination, but the total lack of composure drove me crazy. I was voicing my frustrations out-loud, under my breath, and Meredith said, “Mom, you should go out there and tell him to ‘focus.’” No kidding, Merdi.

Once I loaded Alex into the car, I told him I didn’t think he was mature enough to play football and if he wanted to come back to the camp, he’d better commit himself to paying attention and not screwing around. I thought he’d say something like, “I will! I was just so excited to learn the game, I couldn’t stand still!!!” Instead he said, “Yeah, I think you’re right. Maybe I’ll try playing when I’m nine.”

Then came the guilt. Maybe I should leave him in the camp and he will learn focus? Did I crush his spirit? Did I destroy the small amount of confidence he had about the game? So as I was putting Alex to bed I reassured him I supported him fully and if he wanted to continue with football camp he should, that I hadn’t meant to discourage him. He looked at me and said, “No, actually all I wanted was a mouth-guard. That’s why I wanted to play football, so I could have one.” Gross! Why would anyone want a mouth-guard?!

I think we’re destined for the debate team. And really, I’m okay with that.

The Best Day Evvvvaaaa!

In all of the experiences Meredith has been treated to in her four short years, Sunday was the pinnacle. At least according to her.

Friday afternoon Brandon played in a golf tournament at our friend Scott’s club. Jill E. and I went out later for the dinner and auction and let’s just say Brandon must have been really well hydrated during his round. Scott and his team did a phenomenal job with the tournament! It was a benefit for Riley Hospital, as well as another charity, and raised more money than any tournament I've ever been a part of.

I picked up the kids from my father in law’s by 7:30 a.m. on Saturday. When we got home, we had Dunkin Donut munchkins on the patio and there the kids and I stayed until lunch time.

Later that afternoon we went to see UP. My two line movie review: While not as funny as most of the Disney Pixar movies, UP is a keeper. It deals with a more serious subject matter than most, but does so in a really sweet way. Go see it.

After we left the movies, we made an impromptu decision to take the kids to Bucca Di Bepo for dinner. It’s always loud in there, so I didn’t even need to worry about keeping everyone in line.

Sunday afternoon, after hours of begging, we went to the pool. Brandon came, which happens once, maybe twice a year. I was really glad he did because Meredith decided she was going to learn to swim that day; come Hell or high water. And she did. She started out in very short bursts, and was swimming half the width of the pool 45 minutes later. She even learned to come up for air, and go back down. Her style is a little “fish out of water,” but she’s doing it.

We went to Ritter’s for ice cream to celebrate. Alex pitched a huge fit because we said no to a full-sized banana split. I ordered him the kid version instead and he discovered he can pout and eat at the same time.

We stopped at Costco for detergents of all kinds and water softener salt. It’s obvious central Indiana has hard water. There was only one bag of salt left. I also had to talk Brandon out of a box of fireworks that surely would have burned down our house. Alex’s pouting is genetic.

Brandon grilled salmon for dinner, which is Meredith’s favorite meal. The kids also talked Brandon into making s’mores. We were eating s’mores on the patio and Meredith said, “You know what?! This is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!” I said, “Oh really? Better than meeting all of the princesses at Disney? Better than getting a pedicure on your birthday? Better than when Miss Indiana waved to you during the 4th of July parade last year?” “YUP! I wearned to swim undawatta. We ate salmon for dinner and we made s’mores! It’s the best day EVER!!!”

S'mores are capable of restoring harmony like nothing else.

Brandon and Alex do all of the marshmallow roasting. I don't like heat and I'm not at all patient.

Tea with a unicorn

When my friend Annie and I met through another photographer’s blog last summer one of the first things Annie asked me was if I’d be interested in a “will paint for food type of arrangement.” I liked Annie immediately!

As you all know by now, Annie is a very talented artist and offers custom and themed canvas works. She was in the process of building her website and wanted her portfolio re-photographed. I was more than happy to help. After pleading with two year olds and waiting for newborns to “smile,” photographing canvases sounded really appealing.

As part of our deal and because Annie is incredibly sweet, she agreed to tackle something she hadn’t done before. A table and chair set. When Alex turned one, Brandon and I had a table and chair set customized for him. It’s really cute and it's gotten an incredible amount of use over the years. We bought a set for Meredith before she turned one and it sat in our basement until I gave it to Annie.

I wasn’t very helpful in coming up with ideas, and pretty much just gave Annie free reign. I think she just paid attention to details I went nuts over when photographing her other works and incorporated them into the set. I couldn’t be happier with the end result.

Meredith is thrilled and immediately set up a tea party for herself and invited a pink unicorn, who appears to be really annoyed.

Adult Supervision Required

I am a giant child. If no one holds me accountable, I never accomplish anything. I overeat if no one forces me onto a public scale. I’ll go weeks without dusting the formal living room or dining room if we aren’t entertaining. I will let laundry spill out of baskets if we’re living in swimming suits.

I think I need a life coach.

Better yet, a drill sergeant.

I did 12 loads of laundry yesterday. I washed sweater sets. Granted we had some chilly days late in the spring, but we certainly haven’t since Memorial Day. I almost bought new beach towels because I thought ours were lost. Turns out, they were at the bottom of several hampers.

As I sorted the laundry, I purposely stacked it in front of the back door. That way, I couldn’t leave until progress was made. Accomplishment via force. I literally had to dig us out.

I also hadn’t done a legitimate grocery store run since 1892. When I realized we were out of milk, bread, eggs, and pantry staples I decided yesterday had to be the day. I couldn’t go until the laundry pile shrank and I wasn’t about to take two crankster children to the store later than 6:00 p.m. Luckily, my father in law called and wanted us to pick up strawberries. I told him I’d trade him for two kids for an hour.

I dropped off the kids and on my way to the grocery, made two quick stops to return clothes that were just as unflattering at home as there were in the dressing room. I also hit a great sale at Ann Taylor and am outfitted for the summer. I love longish shirts with elastic waists. They hide fat and the varicose veins under my left knee that lingered after Meredith’s birth. I think varicose veins come free with every ten pound baby. I fell into the same pattern I always do. I found what I liked, and bought it in various colors. I just count on the fact that I don’t see the same people every day, so I should be okay.

I did the grocery shopping and picked up the kids and by the time they were bathed, brushed, read to, prayed with, and tucked in, it was darn near 1000 p.m. Don’t worry, they were both up at 6:50 a.m. I threatened naps by 8:15.

Today, I’m folding and putting away the remnants of the laundry pile while vowing not to let it pile up the rest of the summer. Right.

I also need to find a home for the mid-19th century china covering my table. When my aunt passed away two weeks ago, I inherited my great-great-great grandmother’s china. It’s lovely, but it seemingly multiplies overnight. I don’t have a china cabinet, but I may have to buy one soon. I don’t trust it on it’s own.

Yesterday’s downpours are finally over, but it’s still too chilly to go to the pool. I have to get Alex and Meredith outside before they make a whole in the wall. Yesterday’s laundry festival was described as “unfun.” I think they’re retaliating.

Why didn't I buy an orange rash guard?!

Before we were nearly blown off the map by an evening thunderstorm, we spent most of the day at the pool. I wish I had some melanin so I didn’t have to worry so much about being out in the sun. Four hours of mid-day sun is the most I’m comfortable with. Even if we are covered in thick, clay-like 60 spf, with anti-aging 70 on my face.

We went to the pool at 10 a.m. because Meredith had her first swim lesson with Bryce the lifeguard, who does not hurt my eyes. Alex was excited to hear he could swim around during her lesson so long as he wasn’t a distraction. He got a new snorkel set for his birthday and I haven’t seen him above water since the middle of last week. He even manages to scream through his snorkel, which is a real treat for everyone at the pool.

The pool opened during the last half of Merdi’s lesson and two families from our neighborhood who we know and love came to swim. It’s amazing how much junk we all cart to the pool. At one point, I noticed there were seven swim noodles floating around the pool looking for a purpose.

Megan and Catey came for a quick dip too. In fact, Megan stayed with the kids while I made a McDonald’s run. (I ran out of time to pack the nutritionally-sound lunch I’d planned. It takes a long time to apply all that sunscreen.) I wound up taking another little neighbor girl with me. She wanted to come and I enjoyed her company. She got an ice cream cone out of the deal.

All this means I’m still woefully behind on laundry and my house will likely be condemned next week. It’s supposed to storm and be chilly tomorrow, so hopefully that will be the motivation I need to stay home and regain control!

Completely unrelated Alex comment I’ve been meaning to share: We were driving to the 500 Festival parade in downtown Indy. (That will be the only time I ever type that sentence. It was hot and crowded and dirty. Three things I like to avoid at all costs.) Anyway, we were next to a car with hydraulics and a stereo system that probably cost more than the car. It was a 70’s sled of some sort and was bright, metallic purple. Kind of like a bass boat or a bowling ball. Very glittery, with a mural painted on the trunk. To say the car was loud is an understatement. Some sort of Spanish rap music was blaring out of the car’s open windows. All four of them. It was vibrating our car. Alex looked out the window and says without a shred of emotion, “I’m surprised that guy’s not deaf.”

It could be worse...

I used to be on it with birthday parties. I picked a theme and planned all the details months in advance. I even had time to order party supplies on line.

About three weeks before Alex’s birthday, Sara B. asked me what I was going to do for Alex’s party this year. I thought, “What? That’s a loooooooooong time away!” Then I realized it wasn’t.

I wasn’t really all that excited to host a party at Bounce Planet, yet again. It’s becoming routine. I’m not ready for lazer tag or paint ball and the giant rental bouncy house was a one time event.

Alex decided what he really wanted was a simple party at home with a Star Wars theme. That I can do, because Annie just did that, and she’ll let me lift all her ideas! We have to wait until the end of June because our calendar is full all the weekends Alex’s friend Jack isn’t in Florida.

We did celebrate as a family this weekend. We took Alex to the Apple store in the mall and let him choose his own iPod. That was probably just as much fun for me as it was for the Gator. Brandon refuses to acknowledge just how cool Macs are, so he stood around looking too astute to be intrigued, while his iPhone rested in his pocket.

After the mall, we went out for sushi. Yes, that’s what Alex wanted. It’s no longer a novelty; he likes it. He really, really likes it. I even branched out from California rolls and was pretty happy I took the risk.

We ended the day with cake on the patio, where we were not allowed to sing. As I started to sing, Alex put up his hand and said, “Thanks, but no thanks Mom. I’ll do without the singing this year.” He opened the other small gifts we’d gotten him, all the while carrying around his shiny new iPod showing me all the things it could do.

I helped Alex upload a few songs and he wanted Jimmy Buffett. Of course we have literally every Buffett song ever written. Of course not all of those are suitable for a seven year old’s playlist. Alex asked me for “The Tiki Bar is Open.” I was on the fence. I understand why he wanted it. It’s jaunty. I often listen to it while doing dishes or scrubbing toilets, but I wasn’t sure Alex needed to walk around singing, “Thank God the Tiki Bar is Open. Thank God the Tiki Bar is here!”

I told him we might upload it later. Telling my kids we'll do things "later" is in the same family as "we'll see" and "I'll think about it."

An hour later, Alex was walking around with earbuds singing “The Tiki Bar is Open,” a beat behind and very off-key. I looked at his iPod and sure enough the little rat had figured out how to pull up our library in iTunes and click and drag the song onto his iPod.

I made my own bed, didn’t I?!