Gonna call it a night

So we just finished Movie Night at the kids' school. Three of the PTA dads were in charge. One of them was the dad in this house so you know that means I'm working.

They chose "Ghostbusters." Yeah, "Who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters!" 

It sounded like a great idea -- catchy song, funny. Right? That's how I remembered it. Of course the last time I saw the movie was in the '80s. I think the big hair and giant earrings have permanently damaged my memory.

There were a number of things I didn't remember:

Like when Sigourney Weaver's character gets taken over by Gozar. That was a bit scary. In fact, the movie had some pretty creepy parts to be showing an elementary school audience.

Then there's the cursing and creative name calling. Quite a bit of it actually. It's funny how you don't notice it until you have kids and you helped picked the movie and now other people's kids are watching it.

Then there's the ghost blow job. That was great.

And a possessed Sigourney Weaver wants Bill Murray's character "inside her."

Yeah. Just keeps getting better and better.

The PTA dads have decided to cut to the chase. Avoid any pretense. Next time the movie committee is going to show "Animal House" and any kid who falls asleep will be put in a grocery cart and left on the principal's lawn...

Caught in the act

Last night's "after" the PTA meeting discussion turned to what happens when junior catches you and Daddy. We haven't been caught (that I know), but that's probably because we are slackers or at least more paranoid about making sure the kids are asleep. I hear the sex increases when the kids are a little older and less likely to crawl in bed with you in the middle of the night. But then they get old enough to stay up late and, if you are the worrying type and your bedrooms are close, you never have it again until they go to college or you get a hotel.

But apparently others are doing it enough to get caught.

One woman's husband explained that "Mommy has a tummy ache, and I'm helping her." Seriously? What happens next time the little guy doesn't feel so good and wants Daddy to "help" him?

Another's husband (why is it always Dad doing the talking in the story?) said, "We are exercising." How many calories does Dad really think he is burning?

My favorite actually comes from several years ago. Another preschool mom and dad had been caught in the act. Mom quickly explained that it was a "Married Hug." I was kind of impressed. It seemed like a great way to put it at a preschool level, convey your values (at least the ones that showed up when you had kids) and it got you out of explaining the whole thing.

And it was a great idea -- until her 3-year-old daughter started knocking over boys on the play yard, climbing on top of them and telling them that she was giving them a "married hug."

Doing time

The story tonight at Vacation Bible School was about Paul and the time he spent imprisoned. The pastor loves to draw kids into the story so he asks the "Sophomore class" -- 1st and 2nd graders-- if any of them have ever been in prison.

One of them answered yes -- and then the second-grader remembered he hadn't been to the Big House after all. "It was some place else." We didn't ask for an explanation.

At this point another kid remembered he had a plan on how to escape if he ever ended up behind bars. "First you ask the guard guy to come very close to you ..."

Then a third child had to tell the pastor a secret -- hopefully not about jail time, but the pastor wasn't revealing anything.

I'm not sure Paul ever made it out of prison during story time.

Moms are embarrassing

My poor third-grader. One moment I think he's appreciative of me (see prior post) and the next moment I realize that I've embarrassed him, maybe even shamed him, among his peers.

Let me explain:
The preschooler was complaining that he has to sit in a booster seat -- after all, he's five and why wasn't I properly respectful of that fact. So I told him what every mom would, "In a year or two, you'll be out of it. This is the best way for me to keep you safe..." He's just hearing "yada, yada, yada."

The third-grader couldn't contain himself: "A year or two! I just got out of a booster seat!"
He did? I can't remember. It seems like ages ago. But sure enough, the third-grader went on to tell the tale of the beginning of third grade when the teacher took a poll of the class to see who was still in a car seat of some sort (She had nonjudgemental wording, but I can't remember it. And really, are the words "car seat" or "booster seat" judgemental? Apparently to third graders.)

"I was the ONLY one, Mom!" said the shamed third-grader. "I had to hide in the back of the classroom and raise my hand..."

How do I explain that he's the first born and he's not going to get to do anything fun at an early age while his brother will be smoking and drinking before he's 12? (Not really in case you are planning on reporting me.)

Sons

I love that I have two boys. They are amazing. They are also boys so amazing takes on new meanings sometimes (It's amazing it never occurred to you NOT to do that.)

But this is about the good kind of amazing and how your heart swells when your quiet, serious, never expressive 8-year-old boy actually acts like he loves you. I know he loves me. I also know it is hard for him to express it. And I LIVE for the moments when he does.

Why do I volunteer every time for team mom? Because he smiles when I do. One smile, there's my payment for the season... Worth it every time.

Yesterday, I was driving four boys to baseball practice. One of the boys was talking about how he was almost late for school that day. He woke up 15 minutes before he had to be there and was rushing around getting ready and yelling at his brother to hurry up. My son listens to this story and asks "Wasn't your mom downstairs making your lunch and getting your backpack together?" The other boy just stared at him. It didn't compute.

Something did compute with my son though. I could see it on his face. He actually realized that I do things for him that matter to him and some kids don't get that kind of help or treatment. My son felt blessed.

This is no judgement of the other boy's mom. So what if she doesn't make her kids' lunches?! I'm just glad I do something for my son that he realizes matters to him. I'm enjoying the moment of appreciation (along with the extra hugs and smiles that have come my way). I have no illusion that it will last.

Cough, hack, wheeze

One of the things I dread as a parent is the sound of one of my children coughing. Even just a slight clearing of their throat will catch my attention. It's like the church bells calling the faithful. The ever-so-little cough around lunch time heralds a long, long night of wheezing and coughing, steamy showers to clear air passages, the non-stop hum of the humidifier and an exhausted mommy.

When I was working fulltime, my mind would slip into hyper gear: "What meetings can I postpone?" "How many sick days do I have left?" "How will I juggle this?"
Stay-at-home momming lets me relax a bit. I just have to accept cancelling everything on the calendar and actually staying at home. Sometimes it's a welcome time to slow down and just sit and hold my children. Of course, anyone who has held a sick child or two for a long period of time knows its not quite that easy.

My husband poo-poos my first feelings of dread with a your-overreacting look. I know I'll get him back around 1 a.m. when the first one shows up in our bedroom barking like a seal and complaining that he can't breathe.
And it turns out true, we are all wheezing and coughing and snuggling in on this Presidents Day.

I just want one doctor

My oldest son is sick today and needs to see his pediatrician. He doesn't like going to the doctor. There is a high level of anxiety that is alleviated somewhat by the fact that he has been seeing the same doctor his entire life. He trusts Doctor X. It's still stressful, but not as bad as it could be.

I call the doctor's office this morning, only to be informed that their new policy is that I must see whatever doctor is available first. Today Doctor Y is available at 11. My sons see Doctor X.

"Does Doctor X have any available appointments?"
"You have to take the first doctor available. Doctor Y has an 11 a.m."
"Yes, but does Doctor X have anything today?"
"Doctor X is very busy. The patients like him, but we have to fill up the other doctors appointments."

Yes. That is the point. The other doctors in the office aren't nearly as desirable. They make you wait for hours. They don't listen when you try to give them some medical history on your child. I know this from experience with them and from talking to other moms in the waiting room. Moms talk. Moms listen. Moms remember.

Turns out Doctor X has an 11:30 a.m. that I finally procured with the warning that they wouldn't do this again.

I can see trouble on the horizon...