Packing Tape and Cardboard Dreams

February 22, 2011 By 31 Comments

dreamIn most homes cardboard boxes come and go without much thought. There was a time when cardboard was GOLD to child #2, The Artist.

Always amused at her creativity and overactive imagination, I still couldn’t help but be frustrated by the lack of tape in the house. Anytime I needed to mail a box or wrap a present, I found only empty dispensers in the drawers. Purchasing both packing and Scotch tape in the 3 roll packs only seemed to make it disappear three times as fast. Pulling tape off the carpet in the project assembly area of the living room became my daily routine, and I realized I was dealing with a tape obsession of epic proportions – a two-or three-roll-a-week habit at its peak.

Better than duct tape

Some people say duct tape fixes everything. The Artist felt that way about tape in general and was always in search of an excuse to wield the mighty dispenser for quick fixes on things such as mending ripped Barbie dresses and laminating a book bag. I would swear she broke things on purpose just to use tape.

three little pigs

I had to ask permission to post this. She made the pig nose and wolf accessories. Yes, those are pink socks on the pig's arms.

While unpacking my new desk from three large boxes, I saw her salivating at the amount of cardboard as she asked, “Can I have that?” A dream come true.

Drowning in cardboard

My house was soon invaded with large cardboard creations. After carefully constructing and decorating the stage, she created costumes and patiently practiced lines with her little sister for the “Three Little Pigs” production. It was adorable.

Cardboard cars get good gas mileage

cardboard carNeighbors still reminisce about the days of seeing her out in the driveway hard at work on her cardboard masterpiece. Built atop a toddler ride-on toy with painstaking detail, she crafted a car that worked. She took her little sister for rides around the house and down the sidewalk.

I thanked her for saving me a lot of money in the future when she got a driver’s license, but eventually the car fell apart. Heartbroken at the thought of tossing it to the curb on trash day, I knew another creation would eventually take its place.

Then came the day that the creations were no more. The packing tape obsession was replaced with a cell phone addiction, boyfriends, and Lady Gaga. She turns thirteen today – an official teen although she’s been there for years.

Despite her telling me that I didn’t have to write about her like I did my son, I must. She’s my only reader in the family. My #1 fan who even stole the coffee mug with my logo on it, and asked me to come speak at career day. I dodged that appearance…maybe next year. I had no idea what I would say other than, “This is how you become crazy after having kids.”

The torch has been passed

paper shoesLooks like the creative bug has bit her little sister. This weekend she used all the tape in the house and a stack of paper bags to create “Paper Sandals”. I didn’t let her wear them to the grocery store, but so far I’m impressed with their durability. Sock Monkey got a pair, too. I haven’t been measured for my designer pair yet.

The tradition of tape and paper dreams continues…

Happy Birthday Sweetie!
Your imagination, artistic talent, and natural, musical ability amaze me every day. You are so good with your little sister who adores you, and I’m so proud of you. Plus you make me laugh harder than anyone.

Love Always,
Mom – Your #1 fan

Her reply…in true teen style:
Thanks mom :/ your so embarrassing!!!! -the apparently artist
P.S. I never got to choose my name for here.
I don’t approve.

And a comment from her friend that I promised to add (sorry I can’t approve comments from minors..internet safety you know) :)

It’s cute and would love to have that new stylish car and it’s probably hard being you. Hope not much more tape is needed
I have a new invention reusable tape. U should try it ha ha
-K.

Disclaimer: These teen comments were translated from the original texting versions for the purpose of understanding them. :)
I’m awaiting reusable tape…

Filed Under: Kids, Teens Tagged With: , , , ,

No Manual Included

January 28, 2011 By 25 Comments

Sixteen years ago I experienced a life-changing experience, and I could not have predicted the impact it would have on life as I knew it.

Unprepared and scared of what lie ahead, I found myself in a hospital bed for the first time in my life. Attached to what seemed like way too many wires hooked to various machines, I panicked.

Ripping the IV out of my hand and pulling off the EKG pads, I jumped out of bed and headed for the door as I matter-of-factly announced “I’ve decided I’m not going to have a baby today, and I’m going home.” OK that was just crazy talk from an irrational first-time mother, and I was kindly escorted back into the delivery room. My beautiful son was born a few hours later, and I felt an overwhelming warmness in my heart unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was new, exciting, and downright frightening. The rest of the world seemed to fade away as we entered the world of parenthood in a sleepless blur surrounded by the smell of Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo.

The Trip Home

After being sprung from the hospital and a frustrating half hour installing the car seat, the journey to a new life began…at 35 mph on a 55 mph road. I was certain the pre-baby preparations were perfect. The nursery was all decorated, the clothes were all folded in the dresser, and the changing table was stocked with neatly organized baby supplies. The oversight was in not having a package of wipes OPEN and ready to go.

Two minutes after entering the front door, a new diaper was urgently necessary. Having been pampered in the hospital to the point of not even changing a diaper, I was shocked at the tar that came out of my new baby. OMG! What is that!?! Is he broken? Where is the manual? No manual!!! AUUGGHH!! Now I’m faced with a mess and a sealed package of wipes. Grabbing a washcloth I got the mess cleaned up and threw away the washcloth. Thoughts ran threw my head such as:
“I can’t believe they let us take home this baby!”
“I have no idea what I am doing – I don’t have a baby license!”
“I get to keep him, right? Even if I mess up?”

With all the best intentions of using cloth diapers, within two days I realized I wasn’t cut out for rinsing a cloth diaper in the toilet. Empathetic towards the pre-Pampers generation, I was breaking all records tossing gross cloths in the trash and quickly concluded that wasn’t for me. “How in the world am I going to handle it if he throws up,” I wondered.

With no formal training or instructions to go by, we are thrown into the world of parenting. Luckily a tolerance to all things gross and frustrating develops slowly over time. Let’s face it. Installing a car seat is a walk in the park next to untangling a set of headphones while an impatient teen hovers or consoling a teary-eyed child who lost her best friend.

My Talkative Buddy

“Little Buddy”, as we liked to call him, could talk your ear off. He was only 2 when I was pregnant with child #2. By then I was working at home with no daycare, so he had to accompany me to the OB-GYN appointments. This is not the best situation to be in with an inquisitive two-year-old. I was attempting to fill a cup while simultaneously keeping him from touching everything in the bathroom when he got the brilliant idea to cover the action play-by-play style. “What are you doing, Mom?” “Oh wow, you got it in the cup!” “Good for you” *claps* “Why are you peeing in a cup?” “Why are you putting it in that cabinet?” “Why do they want that?” “That’s gross.” …

Let me also mention that the bathroom was literally off the main waiting room, so everyone heard his commentary. This is just embarrassment training for the day you find your child naked and running around the clothing racks at Target.

The Emergency

Nothing prepares you for the first major boo boo your child gets. He was two when he fell off the computer chair and bit through his bottom lip. With an ice-filled washcloth as a temporary fix, we rushed to the doctor office. I was rambling and muttering to myself something about stitches, and I heard the sweet voice from the backseat reassuringly say, “I’m OK Mom.”

Then years whirl by. Potty Training – Kindergarten – Science Fair Projects -Pokemon Cards – Baseball – Basketball – Middle School – High School

The Driving Lesson

Yes that is “lesson” as in singular. I’m a bad passenger in a car with a seasoned driver, so I don’t make the best driving teacher. We were fine until we took to the street. He claims I screamed. In my defense, I thought we were going to take out the tennis courts. I was fired on the spot. Valium may be required if I’m put back on duty.

I can’t believe my baby is 16, and I only have him here for two more precious years. He is such a wonderful kid even if he does call me a Noob while we play Black Ops. It all goes so fast.

My favorite memory is a conversation I had with him when he was in first grade.

Son: “Mom. When I’m big I’m going to live in the house next to yours.”

Me: “That’s so sweet, but believe me you will change your mind when you are older.”

Son: “No way! AND I will ride my bike to your house and take you out to eat dinner.”

Me: “Don’t you think you might have a car by then?”

Son: “Why? I have a good bike.”

He was asleep at midnight, so I couldn’t wish him Happy Birthday. I did kiss his cheek and tuck him in. Even at over six feet tall, he is still my baby.

Happy Birthday Son!!
Love Always,
Mom

Filed Under: Kids, Teens, Yep That's Me Tagged With: , , ,

Saying goodbye to the vampire

September 1, 2010 By 12 Comments
vampire

Vampire hours

Each summer my son reverts back to what I refer to as “the vampire hours.” He has his days and nights mixed up.

Now if you thought that was reserved for infants, you haven’t experienced a teenage boy’s version of summer. I’m startled awake by the noise from the kitchen as he makes lunch at 3am.

He rustles from his cave

Hearing a familiar clinking sound, he bounds from his room. Having been without human contact for the last 6-7 hours, he is excited to have someone to talk to. I guess it is good to hear a human voice after you have been busy modding alien creatures on a computer game all night. Many of the programmers I know are night owls, so he would fit right in at MIT…his dream school.

I’m not awake yet

I’m innocently making coffee at 7am when he materializes in the kitchen. Did I just hear the “whhoossh” of a cape? The excited rambling about his night’s accomplishments swirls in my sleepy brain. For half an hour, I savor this rare interaction with him. He ends the conversation with the daily question, “What’s for dinner?”

Dinner at this hour?
“It’s 7:00am,” I reply. “The dinner you slept through is in the refrigerator. By the way, do you have a recent photo I can put on the wall in case I forget what you look like?”

“Very amusing.”

He makes a peanut butter sandwich and disappears back to the cave. By noon he is asleep.

Life goes on without him

The girls and I had many adventures while the vampire slept. He promised to go see Toy Story 3 with us but couldn’t stay awake. I returned from the movie a crying mess. Standing in his doorway, I mumbled something like “I only have three more years with you, and you can’t even go to the movies with me.” After that guilt-inducing display, he spent a few mornings watching movies with me. I was thrilled!

Our summer family memory…yes that is singular

Then came the day the three kids had a dentist appointment at 10:00am. After the appointment I suggested we all go to lunch. It was a special occasion…the only time during the summer that all three kids were:

  • Dressed
  • Clean
  • Awake
  • Trapped in the car with me with no chance for escape

All at the same time! It was a miracle. I was driving, so they had no choice.

I ignored the protests as I pulled into the parking lot of Fridays. We had a lovely lunch. Everyone was laughing with each other and having a great time. I guess deep down they understood it was important to me, and they were on their best behavior. I wish I had taken a picture.

My son has returned

Now that summer is over, he is back. I couldn’t be more thrilled. He’s still my baby even if he’s taller than me now. He’s a fantastic, brilliant, funny kid, and I couldn’t be prouder of him. I guess that is why he gets away with the vampire hours.

The cape hangs in the back of the closet…until next summer.

Filed Under: Teens Tagged With: ,

Get Lady Gaga out of my bathroom

August 11, 2010 By 15 Comments

Lady Gaga room

Two walls covered in Lady Gaga.


Don’t get me wrong. I like Lady Gaga’s music.

I have her songs on my iPod and in my car. She reminds me of Madonna, and I have every one of Madonna’s albums.

It’s just that my 12 year old daughter has taken “like” to an insane “obsessed” level.

Discussions with her ultimately result in the quoting of a Lady Gaga fact regardless of relevance to the conversation. Lady Gaga propaganda is all over her room, but that part is OK with me.

Reminiscing back to my teenager years…

I admit I had my room painted purple in honor of Donny Osmond. That also fit perfectly during my Prince phase. “Gonna party like it’s 19…99″ blasted out of my room daily, and I searched through “Teen Beat” magazine for the newest poster to adorn my every growing shrine.

Lady Gaga door

Lady Gaga door

The difference? My love for Prince stayed within the confines of my own room.

I saw the signs of a possible Gaga takeover looming on the horizon. First the room door was covered, and then the constant blasting of music from the computer began. Sheet music for drum, violin, and piano were studied and practiced. Occasionally a picture appeared on the refrigerator, and I quickly removed it. Screen savers, french-fry inspired sunglasses, crazy hairdos…I feel dizzy…I am surrounded.

Big sister influence

barbie Lady Gaga

Barbie shows off her new spare tire cover.

My Dora-loving four-year-old has been transformed into a Lady-Gaga-crazy preschooler.
Note: Having much older siblings causes issues.


Even Barbie has joined the PR campaign by adding logos to her car.

My four year old can easily rattle off the names of at least 10 songs and identify them if you play “Name that Tune” with her. I’m so…proud?

Now instead of hearing her humming sweet princess songs while playing Barbies, I hear “Caught in a bad romance…” That might appropriately describe Barbie’s relationship with Ken, but it’s not something I want to hear the little one singing.


This leads me to…the bathroom

Bathtub graffiti

Lady Gaga grafetti

My bathroom has been graffitied with the bathtub crayons. The guilty party is standing in an empty tub with the deliberate intention of disrupting my feng shui. I’m not a handwriting identification expert, but I’m pretty sure I know who is responsible.

*Sigh*…She has tickets

She has tickets to see her in concert in…APRIL 2011, and each day she comes up with a new “how I’m going to meet her back stage” plan.

It’s going to be a long year.


Calgon take me away…right after I scrub off the graffiti.


Filed Under: Teens Tagged With: , ,

Jealous of my new dishes?

August 4, 2010 By 10 Comments

Feast your eyes on my beautiful new dishes.

paper plateIn case you are wondering, they come in a pack of 150 wrapped in plastic.

If you were grabbing your keys to run out and grab a set, let me warn you the pattern doesn’t have a name. However, you will probably be able to identify them.

In the spirit of OPI’s creative product naming I’m going to call it:

“Someone forgot to wash dishes.”

Well that isn’t really the case. The reason we are eating our delicious home cooked meals on our flimsy plates is because my teenage son has managed to accumulate every dish in the house in his room. I understand it is summer and all, but he has the entire collection and all of the spoons.

I’m protesting! I refuse to retrieve them!

He must return them on his own. However, the rest of us are suffering as we figure out how to eat cereal and milk with a fork from a paper plate. Did you know that with some creative folding you can make it into a cone-shaped bowl? I think that would be called a cowl, but I’ve never seen that shape available in fine china.

Last night I solved the problem.

I appeared in his doorway and matter-of-factly mentioned that a large beetle was seen roaming in the next room, and the bug might find that interesting. I pointed to the stack of dishes on the floor. The thought of a bug invading his room caused a look of terror to come to the face of my six-foot tall boy.

His sister and I laughed from our hiding place as we watched him frantically gather up the dishes within thirty seconds of my annoucement. Aren’t teenagers fun?

Ah Ha! Next time the dishes run low, I know exactly how to handle it.

I will save my pretty new dishes for special occasions.

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Filed Under: Teens