Happy Memorial Day and Random Thoughts

When is the last time you explained the thinking behind Memorial Day to a four year old? Actually, she had the opportunity to hear all about it from Charles Durning and Gary Sinese the other night when we took the girls to see the National Symphony Orchestra dress rehersal of their Memorial Day concert.

Both girls loved it. We made them leave against their will at 8:45. They wanted to stay to the bitter end. Both Charlie and Gary gave graphic depictions of the horror of war that were completely moving, but let's just say Juliette came away with a bunch of questions about death, the military, and war in general.

We've been dealing with the concept of death for a while -- the mommy version, "people either get a special kind of sick, old, or have accidents." Regrettably, I forgot to include man against man in the honed down version of ways to die and Bruce got an earful tonight about war.

I've never been so glad to put Evie to bed!

It is an awfully sobering topic, on a somber day that seldom gets more than a few minutes devoted to the root of the holiday.

We have been reminded by Juliette to be thankful for the sacrifices that were made by those we remember today.

You are NOT my mother.

In a polite, civil, society, certain social norms must be observed. As you have children, some of those perceived polite norms come crashing down (of course we are talking bodily functions, appearance, etc.).

Other norms become code red areas akin to national security levels for an already overly charged mother.

An example of a perceived norm. Dinner on the table Sunday night, the ketchup bottle makes the noise all ketchup bottles do when nearing the end of their rope and your daughter blurts out "the ketchup bottle tooted" and dissolves into laughter. The whole family laughs. Perceived norm crashes to the floor.

An example of code red. Same child is caught climbing up the bookshelves at someone else's home. When the hostess commands your child to return to terra firma, said child replies " I don't have to do what you say. You are not my mother."

Screeeeecccchhhh. Halt. Wait just a moment?

Did I just hear what I think I heard?

At what age is the Fox boot camp show going to show up and take my child away to Idaho?

What happened to please and thank you? Have we just begun the descent into the slippery slope of adolescence?

Or, perhaps it is just because the little cheeky apple doesn't fall far from the proverbial tree.

Happy Mother's Day, Gramma!

To celebrate you, I have asked Baby Panda to perform the most tricky trick ever!

Are you ready, Baby Panda???

Ta Dahhhhh!!!! Happy Mother's Day, Gramma!! We love you!!

Happy Mother's Day, Gramma!

To celebrate your day, I have composed a song--

Happy Mother's Day to you,

Happy Mother's Day to you.

You are the BEST GRAMMA!

Happy Mother's Day to you!!!

I'm going to flip upside down now to celebrate!

They had a state dinner for Queen Elizabeth and Didn't Invite Us?

The invitation must have been lost in the mail. We had been practicing with our tiaras for a whole week prior. White tie!! Maybe it was our lack of sash that made them exclude us from the invitation list.

Clearly we need to check in with Mrs. Bush's social secretary. This cannot happen again.

In the Closet

Quick, someone call our social worker. Juliette is in the closet.

Evie was there Sunday.

Are they being punished?

Is something amiss?

Does anyone recall a closet scene in Mommie Dearest??

It isn't punishment. Rather, it is prime real estate for napping. Sunday, Evie requested to take her nap in Mommy's newly cleaned, vacuumed closet.

I immediately sniffed the whiff of opportunity. "I don't know.... you can't have stories or songs if you nap in the closet, because there isn't room for Momma AND Evie in the closet."

"OK."

(Not having to read stories and sing songs is like a get out of jail free card.) I immediately agreed to the request.

Juliette overheard. "but I wanted to nap in the closet."

Nope, if I would even allow for two people, books and songs would be back on the bargaining table and there would be no win for me.

Juliette, in tears, "I never get to sleep in the closet".

Me-"Evie asked first, you can sleep in the closet another day."

Juliette- "Evie always gets to go first" - a bigger untruth has yet to be spoken in the town that inspired such famous lines as "I did not have sex with that woman" and "I am not a crook".

Me - "you will have to wait your turn, today is Evie's turn because she asked first."

Consequently, two days later, Juliette is in the closet. (Well on her way to being asleep.) There is something about the odor of leather and dry cleaning that puts them out quicker than benadryl. If we could bottle the sleep intoxication of the closet, Bruce and could easily quit our jobs and devote ourselves to the millions paid by parents desperate to have have their little angels drift off to sleep more easily.

Or, maybe, rather than bedrooms, we should give Juliette and Evie and the rest of the cherubs those little pod dorms to sleep in like the Picadilly hotel in London or the Hotel Akasaka in Tokyo. We could have some cubbies at the end for a couple of momma's shoes to simulate the closet environment more completely....

Until the construction begins, during nap the girls will be taking turns sleeping on the floor in my closet.

It is true, I am tying my own shoes.