The Conversation
Mom, when can I have a skateboard?
I don't know, John. When you are old enough.
Mom, if I had a skateboard, you wouldn't have to drive me to school anymore. I would ride my skateboard instead.
The Commentary
So, I wonder, how does a 4-year-old learn such negotiation skills? By the way, his school is almost 2 miles away. Should I take him up on that offer?
Saturday, November 19, 2011
John shows the family decisiveness
Act 1. Scene 1.
John: Mom, do you know what my favorite color is?
Mom: No, what?
John: My two favorite...my three...my four favorite colors are...gray, blue, red, black, and brown.
Long pause.
John: My second favorite color is white. And yellow and violet.
Act 1. Scene 2.
John: Actually not violet because only girls like that.
Mom: Girls or boys can like any color.
John: Even pink or purple?
Mom: Yes.
John: Oh.
John: The colors I like are gray blue red black yellow.
John: Mom, do you know what my favorite color is?
Mom: No, what?
John: My two favorite...my three...my four favorite colors are...gray, blue, red, black, and brown.
Long pause.
John: My second favorite color is white. And yellow and violet.
Act 1. Scene 2.
John: Actually not violet because only girls like that.
Mom: Girls or boys can like any color.
John: Even pink or purple?
Mom: Yes.
John: Oh.
John: The colors I like are gray blue red black yellow.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
It's a bird, it's a plane, it's ...
Sometimes being a supermom leads to some close calls. I love that Jeremy and I can jobshare, but it does lead to some crazy running around, particularly this semester, when for the first time we have a "double switch." (He teaches at 9 AM, I teach at 12:30 PM, he teaches at 2:30 PM, so we are back and forth with the kids all day, and trying to snatch enough minutes together to do our other work - like grading, committee work, research, etc.)
Ever since I started doing this job along with having kids, 10 years ago, I have joked about the phone booth. I have often felt that I needed a phone booth to duck into, entering as "mommy" and coming out as "cool, collected, professional person." Or, vice versa. Over the years, I have often feared coming out in the wrong garb by accident, or without completing the costume change. (You know what I mean...something like Clark Kent/Superman forgetting to put his disguise eyeglasses back on and thus forever giving away his secret identity to Lois Lane.)
This semester, the trouble has mostly been on the "change to mommy" direction: I arrive home in my dry-clean-only work clothes, hands full of purse, lunch bag, laptop bag. Baby Helen comes crawling at me before the door opens. She spots me through the front window and makes it hard to even open the door. The big grin she gives me warms my heart, but if I try to put something down, or take off my wet shoes, or (heaven forbid), go change into jeans and a t-shirt, before picking her up for a snotty, spit-up-filled snuggle (and usually a little nursing), she cries piteously and makes me feel like a very mean mom.
Today, I had trouble with the switch the other direction, though. The morning was scheduled tightly. I needed to drop John off at preschool, then drive out to Maggie's school to take her the medicine she forgot before leaving, then drive to Meijer for grocery shopping with Helen, then get back to work in time to give the car, groceries, and Helen to Jeremy so he could pick up John from preschool and I could teach my class. Thus, I carefully selected clothing that could go from Meijer to the office: washable slacks and blouse, and my new (expensive but comfy) walking/dress shoes.
Due to a variety of snags, I got John to school 20 minutes late, which put the whole schedule behind. Thus, when Helen announced at Meijer that she needed to nurse and nap, I was very thankful to have our Baby Bjorn carrier. I faced her in, loosened the straps enough to slide her down my front, and she could nurse and sleep peacefully while I grocery shopped. Voila! I was even able to rebutton my top button to be a bit more discreet, though the carrier and my coat provide pretty good coverage.
Well, as always happens, Meijer takes just a bit longer than I plan. I ended up meeting Jeremy at the preschool for the switch instead, so as not to be late picking up John. Of course, this meant that I was running a bit close for getting to class. Thank goodness I decided to go ahead and make a restroom stop anyway. While washing my hands I glanced in the mirror and noticed something looked just a bit "odd." Looking again, I discovered that I had been in and out of John's preschool, and into my office, with my shirt misbuttoned at the top and three buttons gaping open in the middle. With no baby in the carrier to cover me, it was not a very good look. Teaching an entire class that way (to all men, as it happens) would not have been ideal. Oh, phone booth, how could you let me down like that?
Ever since I started doing this job along with having kids, 10 years ago, I have joked about the phone booth. I have often felt that I needed a phone booth to duck into, entering as "mommy" and coming out as "cool, collected, professional person." Or, vice versa. Over the years, I have often feared coming out in the wrong garb by accident, or without completing the costume change. (You know what I mean...something like Clark Kent/Superman forgetting to put his disguise eyeglasses back on and thus forever giving away his secret identity to Lois Lane.)
This semester, the trouble has mostly been on the "change to mommy" direction: I arrive home in my dry-clean-only work clothes, hands full of purse, lunch bag, laptop bag. Baby Helen comes crawling at me before the door opens. She spots me through the front window and makes it hard to even open the door. The big grin she gives me warms my heart, but if I try to put something down, or take off my wet shoes, or (heaven forbid), go change into jeans and a t-shirt, before picking her up for a snotty, spit-up-filled snuggle (and usually a little nursing), she cries piteously and makes me feel like a very mean mom.
Today, I had trouble with the switch the other direction, though. The morning was scheduled tightly. I needed to drop John off at preschool, then drive out to Maggie's school to take her the medicine she forgot before leaving, then drive to Meijer for grocery shopping with Helen, then get back to work in time to give the car, groceries, and Helen to Jeremy so he could pick up John from preschool and I could teach my class. Thus, I carefully selected clothing that could go from Meijer to the office: washable slacks and blouse, and my new (expensive but comfy) walking/dress shoes.
Due to a variety of snags, I got John to school 20 minutes late, which put the whole schedule behind. Thus, when Helen announced at Meijer that she needed to nurse and nap, I was very thankful to have our Baby Bjorn carrier. I faced her in, loosened the straps enough to slide her down my front, and she could nurse and sleep peacefully while I grocery shopped. Voila! I was even able to rebutton my top button to be a bit more discreet, though the carrier and my coat provide pretty good coverage.
Well, as always happens, Meijer takes just a bit longer than I plan. I ended up meeting Jeremy at the preschool for the switch instead, so as not to be late picking up John. Of course, this meant that I was running a bit close for getting to class. Thank goodness I decided to go ahead and make a restroom stop anyway. While washing my hands I glanced in the mirror and noticed something looked just a bit "odd." Looking again, I discovered that I had been in and out of John's preschool, and into my office, with my shirt misbuttoned at the top and three buttons gaping open in the middle. With no baby in the carrier to cover me, it was not a very good look. Teaching an entire class that way (to all men, as it happens) would not have been ideal. Oh, phone booth, how could you let me down like that?
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
How to spend a rainy day
Job sharing has its pluses and minuses. We do a lot of running in and out of the house all day long. We have to keep an hourly planner to remember who is picking up kids or grocery shopping or teaching class at any given time. We sometimes drop the ball, like last week when I arrived home (Friday, 3:30 PM) feeling relieved to have successfully retrieved the kids at school and checked off my last "to-do" for the week, only to get a phone call asking me why I wasn't at the committee meeting scheduled for just then.
Still, one big plus is the opportunity to occasionally grab the downtime in the midday. I spent the early morning with John and Helen, taking John to swim lessons. I next did a quick swap with Jeremy in the parking lot at work. I spent a few hours grading papers, teaching class, and the like. Then, at 1:30, I rushed out of the office to head home. It was now cold and raining heavily, making the short trip home a bit unpleasant. I hurried along, not only because of the weather but because I knew that Jeremy, having spent 2.5 hours with the two youngest kids at home and eating/cleaning up lunch, would be anxious to get back into the office to teach his next class.
Instead, here is the scene I found today when I walked in the door.
Still, one big plus is the opportunity to occasionally grab the downtime in the midday. I spent the early morning with John and Helen, taking John to swim lessons. I next did a quick swap with Jeremy in the parking lot at work. I spent a few hours grading papers, teaching class, and the like. Then, at 1:30, I rushed out of the office to head home. It was now cold and raining heavily, making the short trip home a bit unpleasant. I hurried along, not only because of the weather but because I knew that Jeremy, having spent 2.5 hours with the two youngest kids at home and eating/cleaning up lunch, would be anxious to get back into the office to teach his next class.
Instead, here is the scene I found today when I walked in the door.
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| Some guys have all the luck. |
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Halloween Pictures
Pumpkin carving!
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| We got lots of tasty seeds roasted from 4 pumpkins. Still enjoying them 2 weeks later. |
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| "Eww! This feels gross inside," seemed to be the general consensus of the kids. |
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| John makes his scary face next to his pumpkin. He had a bit of help from Jeremy in carving it, but he sketched on paper how scary he wanted it to be. |
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| The finished products, left to right are: Helen (2 bottom teeth only!); John (scary!); Maggie (carved it herself!); James (also self-carved) |
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| Trick-or-treating! John is Spiderman; Maggie is Queen Margaret; James is a bomb. Two Goodwill finds and a self-creation. Helen has a cute (hand-me-down) pumpkin costume but she decided not to trick-or-treat this year. |
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