I'm Gonna Miss You When You're Gone.

My dad had a really interesting view on life. He had the ability to teach us lessons without preaching and always put a humorous twist on events to let you know when you were forgiven, which was usually pretty quick.  He taught me life was worth living, and often that it was too short to be miserable.  He taught me about love, death, friendship and hard work.  But mostly he gave me this quirky, morbid sense of humor that when I unleash it on the unsuspecting- the rewards are priceless.

My dad was a storyteller. He could walk into a room and in a matter of minutes be the center of a group that soon would be laughing to the point of tears. He had a way of weaving truth and fiction to create the perfect punchline. We learned at a young age that when dad was telling a story, we were not to interrupt and point out that he wasn't telling it like it really happened.  Many times he would pat me on the head and whisper, "I'm gonna miss you when you're gone."  That was my clue that I was walking a fine line. Cross the line and you would be sorry. Heed the warning and you would be granted a reprieve.

There were nuances to the phrase that let me know which boundary I was crossing. " Man I'm going to miss you when you're gone" meant I was bordering on cute but not to push it. "I'm really gonna miss you when you're gone" meant you've overstayed your welcome, perhaps you should bless someone else with your attitude.  It was one of those multipurpose phrases in our house that everyone used to convey 20 different messages.It could mean, I love you, I'll miss you, You're being a grade a jerk, Get lost, Knock it off, watch it and just about anything depending on context. It was our secret code and taught me about irony and that the depths of communication lie not only in what you say but how you say it.

My dad would give me anything. He was a natural salesman. He always told me- if you want something, you gotta sell it.  We had been out and about one day and stumbled across a litter of kittens. I saw this adorable little salt and pepper sprite pouncing around all over it's siblings. I reached in and grabbed the little monster from the cage and looked up at my dad.  "You know dad, I've been thinking. My grades are solid, I babysit a few times a week, if I pay for everything myself and swear to take care of him, can I please take him home? "  He explained that my mother was going to be very upset and that I was going to have to let him sell it to her.  Sounded good to me.  We wrapped Bandit up in a green sweatshirt, not because he was cold- I thought it was so he wouldn't pee all over me- mostly it was to camoflauge the evidence from my mother. Somehow she still knew the instant we walked in the door.  I walked  around the block for over an hour only stopping back home when the yelling subsided.  I'm pretty sure my parents didn't talk for weeks.  I'm also pretty sure the price paid overall was far more than my few weeks' worth of babysitting money, but he did it for me.

Shortly after the cat debacle, my brother Bob was diagnosed with a brain tumor. None of us would ever be the same. One would guess that upon diagnosis of a fatal illness, usage of phrases such as "I'm gonna miss you when you're gone" would taper off. One would be very, very, wrong. The usage actually picked up.  It became a way for us to lighten the situation, to joke about something that was otherwise entirely unfunny. That was dad's view of life.  After Bob died, pieces of all of us were lost. For awhile we all lost a lot of our funny. It was tough to see anything lighthearted about anything we had just been through.  Dad spent more time at work, because there was lots of fodder there. I was the ripe old age of 15- so I was all too happy to not have to hang out with my parents. I know it was an incredibly lonely time for my mother. 

Three years after Bob was diagnosed, dad passed out in a meeting.  They found a brain tumor. This time we kinda knew what to expect. The diagnosis gave us time to "get everything in order" as they like to say.  The irony this time lay in the fact that his tumor was in the frontal lobe. The part that guides personality and social skills, spontaneity and creativity.  Dad used to joke that maybe cancer was nature's way of getting us out of the misery of getting old. He was a big believer on going out while you were on top. 

It was only a few months before he could no longer drive and the tumor started zapping the pieces of his personality that he was known for. I would come home from school at lunch and we would sit and talk.  I could tell there were so many things he wanted to tell me and he felt like he was running out of time.  Growing up, we always talked about angels. He swore to me if there was any way for him to come back, he would. But- he said- odds aren't good peanut- because so many have gone before and it must be pretty amazing because I've never known anyone to come back.  

I knew what he was trying to say. He wanted life to go on for us.  He didn't teach me anything in those few months that he hadn't already taught me. But the times we shared were priceless.  As much as I didn't want to see him go, I knew he couldn't stay. It was a bit  over a week before graduation from high school I was stressing over how to get him there and what he wanted. I had stacks of papers and college stuff in my lap.  He had been bedridden for awhile and getting weaker by the day.  I asked him what he wanted to do. He grabbed my hand and said he wanted more than to see me graduate, he paused- turned to me and said "God I'm gonna miss you when you're gone."  I knew then that he wasn't going to make it to graduation. And as hard as I tried that afternoon, the only words I could manage were-  you too and I'm pretty sure it was only audible to the dogs in the neighborhood. 

This year in celebration of Dad's life, I thought about getting a puppy- just to test the strength of mine and Phil's marriage. But then I realized that it would only test the bounds of my sanity- so instead each child gets a Betta fish.  I will make sure they feed them, care for them, and every day tell them how much they are going to miss them when they're gone. With our luck- that won't be very long.

And dad- I'm totally gonna miss you when you're gone.

Monkey Stand

Another free scrapbook design by Smilebox

I am always amazed that when I set out to teach the kids lessons- I am the one who learns so much along the way. Cancer is an energy zapper, a morale zapper and a life zapper. Yet one thing I find always rings true- You get a lot more than you lose when you give from the heart.  When you are going through cancer treatments- you have neither the time nor the energy to give anything back. I feel so blessed to be enjoying the slow pace of normal life right now. There are so many families entrenched in the battle right now that we faced last year.  I feel lucky not to be there anymore, but know I would never have gotten here without going through there.

I feel so lucky to have such amazing friends. When a month ago, I said- Hey Monica , How do you feel about a charity yard sale and lemonade stand?- She said "Let's do it- what do you need?" Never mind that in a week from now, her eldest daughter graduates from high school and a dozen family members will be descending upon her house.  Never mind that I just helped her rip up an entire room full of carpeting so she could lay laminate before her guests arrive. She merely says- "Now the carpet's out, we can store all the yard sale stuff here." Friends show up on my doorstep with trunks full of donations and checks for our cause. Friends build fancy wooden lemonade stands, when a folding table would suffice- just because you think it's cool. Friends park on the street so you have a place to store the pile of yard sale items that is growing exponentially. Friends go with you to beg for goods for your cause and help haul around 200 lbs of wood so you can build a real lemonade stand, because you thought it would be a fun experience. Friends get up at the crack of dawn after 2.5 hours of sleep to help arrange your junk in the park and then move it all back when the sprinklers ,which haven't functioned correctly in 6 months finally decide this is the morning the grass needs to be watered. Friends stick around for the whole thing and then help clean up the mess. Just because you thought it would be a good thing to do.

Thank you to all of our family and friends who have supported us through this and all of our endeavors! We raised over $1200 just today for the fight against childhood cancer! 


www.alexslemonade.org/stands/21625
Monkey Stand

Sibling Rivalry

Before I bought my first car, I went to something like 6 different dealerships, read dozens of consumer magazines comparing reliability and cost, and conferred with close friends and family. Similar research preceeded buying a camera, a computer, and eventually a house. Yet before I had kids, did I do any research or planning on age separation and sibling rivalry? No. I had a Child Psychology course in college which preceded the Abnormal Psych class(and aptly so I might add), but I wouldn't call that real world research. I babysat. I worked as a counselor in a girls school. But did any of it prepare me for the psychological warfare that is sibling rivalry? No. The good news is that I could have read  185 different books on the subject and I wouldn't know any more than I do now. If there was a cure for sibling rivalry, someone would have found it by now.

It's part of who we are and it's part of how we learn.  Singleton children vs. siblings have very different advantages in the world.  Singletons get more attention from parents, but miss out on some of the built in playmate companionship. We have our daily re enactments of The Lord of the Flies. My husband often will look to the back yard and ask "Have they killed the pig yet?" Meanwhile, I find myself yelling at the top of my lungs after 3 rounds of Hi Ho cherry O and a rousing reconstruction of our house with popsicle sticks, "If I wanted to play with you nonstop, you wouldn't have any siblings." To which the little cretin responds, "What's a sibling?".

Siblings are brothers, sisters. They are housemates and sometimes roommates. They are your best friend and your worst enemy. They hold all of your secrets and will hold them for ransom. Today, after a race gone ugly, I hear Lily screaming at the top of her lungs  towards Kiera "You are NOT my favorite sister anymore either!"  Much preferable to the "hate" word, but still packs sting.  I fortunately only had one brother and was often told how I was my mother's favorite daughter. I have since passed on that complement to my son who took it at face value. When his sister accidentally overheard it- she started hollering that he had to be because he was my only son and then she promptly demanded to know who my favorite daughter was.  To which I reply, Phillip. Fortunately Phillip can take a joke and it gets me off the hook with Kiera because I just insinuated that her brother was a girl.  I have tried explaining the whole "I like you all for different reasons" thing and it doesn't work. It results in too many questions and eventually the release of information that will probably be used for blackmail down the road.  I have found the quickest resolution is to merely make stuff up. For example, "why does Phillip get to have a cookie?"  answer: "Because Phillip is my favorite and I reward my favorites with cookies."  The response to that is:  "No, really, why?"

Kids get that they each bring different things to the table. They can't quantify it or express it, but they get it. When we sit down for dinner- Kiera is the entertainment. She talks a mile a minute and there is no hope of stopping her unless it is a McDonald's or pizza night.  Even then it only buys you a minute between chews. One of the biggest problems is that if anything is out of sight, it is out of mind. I could spend the whole day chatting with Lily about something, but she will still try to one up Kiera. For example- Kiera had been studying up on knock knock jokes to tell us at dinner. After 2, Lily has a turn. Knock Knock- who's there?- Lily-Lily who? Lily Mallory, haaaa haaaa haaa.  It doesn't get any funnier after the 5th time. But Kiera has the floor and in that minute, Lily wants to share in that.

They will always battle for 1st place. You can tell them until you are blue in the face that there is no 1st place, but they keep track. As humans we are competitive- we are programmed to survive. Back in the cave days- the best monkey child would get the best pieces of meat which may have meant the difference between living and dying. Today it may just mean the difference between who gets to ride in the front seat of the car.  Siblings teach us how to deal with crisis by creating crisis. Parents are there to remind the little cretins that the family pet(or in our case youngest child) would in fact, not taste very good barbecued. If left to their own devices, I think they would eventually figure it out. It would be ugly and there would be much carnage, but they would find their niche. We all have our place in this crazy world. Experience helps us define that. Ironically though, the more we experience, the less we know for sure. But here's the thing- we get to mold these little humans.  They have this boundless supply if energy and were put in our lives for no other reason than so we can finally understand how our parents could predict with 99.9% accuracy the amount of time before wrestling becomes a trip to the medicine cabinet for band-aids.

The art of helping

 It was yet another furlough Friday leading into Drill weekend for Phil which means exhausted mommy. Pair it with 2 doctor's appointments the day before for Lily and everyone was a little on edge. I decided it was best to keep the kids active to try and circumvent the usual bickering. We went for a walk and played at the park and came home and started painting the Lemonade stand. It seems like everytime I breathe, someone is screaming. And not so far from that screaming is Phillip. As the eldest- he is burdened with "knowing better" for just about everything. The younger ones are adequately(well, consistently might be the better word- if it was adequate they would stop and I wouldn't have to make sure they were) punished and Phillip chastised for his role. I do appreciate that he is old enough to reason with now and try to spend time explaining to him why- although good intentioned, his efforts are sometimes misplaced.

Before we went for our walk this morning, I told Bella to turn off the tv. She is 4. Turning off the Tv is not her forte. Phillip swipes the remote from her and she begins to belt out notes that make my ears hurt. I know part of this is the genetic sex linked trait to be commander of the remote. Part of it is Phillip trying to help me.  I explain to him in my slightly louder than normal voice that it is not his job to enforce her behavior that no good comes from him getting involved when I am dealing with the girls.

Later, after our walk- Lily was pouring lemonade. Phillip saw that she was going to spill and intervenes by moving the cup. Don't ask me here why this course of action seemed to be the best in his mind- but it resulted in Lily ceasing to pour to avoid spillage. So basically if that was his hope- it worked. The down side is that the most probable outcome from this behavior will be spillage and screaming(most likely mine) and I am about to reason it out with him- but Lily is screaming like he cut her hand off. I remove her from the situation and counsel him on the errors of his ways in my slightly louder than normal voice. 1)removing a cup from the path of liquid generally results in spillage. and 2) it greatly increases my stress levels when he does stuff to make her scream. It isn't helping.  

Phil arrived home earlier than usual to take the kids to a movie. I ventured upstairs to bask in the quiet and found this laying on my bed..... 

So I learned a couple of things after the mommy guilt wore off and I stopped feeling like all of my efforts in the parenting realm were in fact misguided and not helping.

1) He does hear me and is very good at drawing cartoon emotions 2) Relationships are this sticky amoeba like thing that you can't define- so is life. That and apparently Catholic guilt tripping is genetically linked.

Yeah I'll Clean it up when I'm Done...

...and other bold faced lies from my 5 year old.  So immediately after I vent yet another of my parental failures-I will be consistent and make my 5 year old clean the bathroom. 

The girls love bath time. Before their food has even digested after dinner, they are rearing to hop in the tub. Both try repeatedly to show proficiency in pouring their own baths. Both fail. Miserably.  In the 4 and 5 year old world- overflow is not a problem- it is fun. Bathtime is no longer a hygienic necessity- but a means of water play. I allow it because it is the only thing that provides me with a few minutes scream free to do the dishes when Phil is not home in time for dinner. I usually finish dishes before they are ready to get out and even sometimes get a little vaccuuming or mopping done after I hear- I'm not ready yet- I want to PLAAAAAAY.

30 minutes ago, Lily ran into the kitchen where I was filling out forms to get a permit to host the Lemonade stand at the park by our house. She tells me "Bella has a full sink(That explains the running water sound for the past few minutes- she has a bit of a toothbrushing/handwashing habit- so it takes a few minutes for it to register. I pick my battles. No need to fight oral hygiene with that one. Not a good precedent- stop brushing your teeth! That just sounds silly.  Phil- who pays the water bill is not nearly as lenient..) Can I give Aladdin and Barbie a bath in the bathroom?  Will you clean it up when you are done?Yeah, just in the sink- she starts backing away- Say it!  "I will clean it up when I am done."  So I go about my business and enjoy the quiet while they(because Bella wouldn't miss out on a little waterplay to save her life) give aforementioned Barbie dolls a little rinse in the bathroom sink. I worry that Jasmine is being replaced by surfer Barbie. A little while later I notice Bella is curled up on the couch, naked. Not surprising- anytime there is water play she automatically begins to strip down. The half gallon of sweet tea I sucked down while fundraiser planning is starting to take effect and I hobble to the bathroom. This is what greets me.......

Apparently "don't make a mess on the floor" Translates to 'line available surfaces with all the clean washcloths".Lilster is not present and I call her in to inquire....she is enjoying a rousing game of wii as evidenced by the controllers in hand.......

I thought you were going to clean it up? " I will- I'm playing wii while they play in the bath."  Apparently they were not ready yet, they wanted to PLAAAAAYYYY.  I don't know if I can be so lenient on this one....and really Jasmine can not be ok with this. 

Monkey Stand - Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation

Monkey Stand - Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation

I am so excited for our new project! We are hosting a Lemonade Stand for Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation. All the proceeds go to fund research to cure Childhood Cancer! Every day 36 kids are diagnosed with cancer in the US. Every DAY! In October 2008, Lily was one of those diagnoses.

I heard about Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation online last year. A little girl named Alex held stands in her front yard to raise money for her hospital after she was diagnosed with cancer in 2000. It sounded fun- the lemonade stand not the cancer. The cancer thing sucks- it's still really fresh. But I can't remember how many Kool-ade stands we hosted as kids. Crystal Barbie was earned through many cups of the sweet beverage and some generosity from the Chem-lawn guys. I have so many friends discussing their readiness for Garage sale season. I don't like garage sales. I don't like going, I don't like hosting. I generally take our stuff to a charity and call it good. But then a friend posted that she was going to donate all her garage sales proceeds to charity. That made the work sound worth it! Then it clicked- what if I combined the 2? My neighbors have stuff they need to get rid of, it's spring cleaning time- I was ready to get the ball rolling. A few clicks online and a few phone calls and we are on our way. I am thrilled that the kids are involved and excited not only to get rid of their clutter- but to do this for a great cause! On May 8th we are hosting a Yard Sale Lemonade Stand. All proceeds will go to ALSF! I'm even considering experimenting with some Lily-koi lemonade- it could go either way!

Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation is based out of Philly and funds many cancer research projects. We have a busy 3 weeks ahead of us- but it's a great kind of busy. We can't do it without your help! Every little bit will make a difference. Donations can be made online or in person until May 8th! Details will follow once we get specifics ironed out. I want to work towards a world where little angels lives are not cut short by this disease. I don't want my children to have to face this disease with their children. Please pass the info along if you are inspired!

Personalize a free digital photobook

Personalize a free digital scrapbook

We have survived another birthday season. It's much like hurricane season except more condensed and with much greater likelihood for ultimate home destruction.  Kiera had her birthday party at Bellows beach on Saturday and despite a couple of glitches, it was a lot of fun.  All I can say is what could possibly be more fun than a car full of girls belting out Hannah Montana and Selena Gomez tunes?  It totally made me miss my childhood and trips to Cedar point and the lake. Ahhh. 

It was pouring rain as we drove through the tunnel and I was quite worried we were going to have to transform it into a rainy day party- but there was sun on the beach. I'd have to say the Sand Sculpting contest was a ton of fun and I am very sorry that I was so utterly remiss in reapplying sunscreen at that time.  There were a lot of pink cheeks as a result.

Yesterday was Eggstravagant. The Easter Bunny left me a note that it was lots of fun actually hiding eggs this year as opposed to just rolling them out into the yard. He also apologized for losing count as he was hiding. Lily was tickled as she found 2 more eggs just this morning.  We then ventured over to the 4th annual Easter Egg Hunt n potluck at the park around the corner from our house. This was the first year Phil hasn't worked and all the kids were big enough to really enjoy the festivities. Read as: Old enough for mom and dad to enjoy the festivities. Seeing as I had just spearheaded two parties in the past two weeks- I was pretty partied out.  It was alot of fun just to hang out with a couple neighbors and my husband. The sparkling moscato didn't hurt either. Well until this morning anyhow.

So here comes the soap box.....I am not the perfect parent. No such thing exists as you cannot possibly expect perfection from an imperfect species.  Going to big events is stressful for me. Kids are kids. They tend to act like...kids. DIfferent ages will give you different challenges. You throw all those ages together and if there are 3 or more of them- as my husband puts it- they will be killing pigs.  The girls will kill the darn thing via emotional torture or through bursting it's eardrums with their high pitched squeals. The boys will find weapons and beat the thing to death and perform experiments on it. Then there are parents- many parents of my age group view such gatherings as a hiatus from parenting. The assumption is that either another parent will handle it or the kids are just off playing. Out of sight, out of mind.  I am an observer. You will not find me in the center of the group engaging in conversation over the best place to shop for this or that or the best new restaurant. I will be on the outskirts watching and listening. I am not a great conversationalist when my kids are present as I am constantly distracted.  Plus when you have your backs to the pig killin species- it's tough to see when it is time to intervene. But that is making the assumption that you would intervene. You know what happens when you assume.

This is why these events are stressful. I don't take a hiatus from parenting. I believe to do so while you are in your children's presence is bad form and sets a precedent for inconsistency. I think this is one of the major problems with the parenting of my generation. There is a reason we are called the me generation. Yeah well there is no "me" in parenting. There is a parent and ing. We were the first to be taught that we are "special" and deserve to be treated as such.  We deserve our own time. It's ok to take time for me. All is true. BUT you have to take care of your responsibilities before you take care of those things.  Just because you are not watching, does not mean it's not happening. In my day, (OH God I am really going there already???) if an adult told you to do something- you did it. Lil Phillip was playing at the park that morning and my neighbor told him to do something. He did not.  SHe asked him again. He did not. She made him do it.  By the time word got to me of what he did(or didn't do) he knew he was in trouble.  He didn't return to the park and didn't get to do the egg hunt. Now kids regularly disrespect adults and are defended by their parents.  We had 3 young teens sitting in the middle of the bouncy house and all the little kids were going elsewhere.  I told them if they weren't playing- get out. My neighbor told them- if they weren't jumping- get out. We went back and they were now standing. In the middle.  One teen says "I don't give a shit." My neighbor says "fine- if you don't give a shit- get out".  I say shit or get off the pot. If I had talked to my parents or neighbors that way, my rear would have been black and blue and I would not have seen daylight for weeks. And I was a spoiled child. I remember when I first learned the word ass.  We had neighbors whose last name was Aseltyne. Yeah- I thought I was soooo clever to superimpose my new vocabulary word into their name. My mother was not so amused. She didn't even hear me, but my friend's mom did.  I got my mouth washed out with soap. Literally. Guess what- It worked. I still swore. I was much more cautious about who heard me though. Life lessons. Here's the thing- nowadays- many parents take the stance- if I didn't hear it firsthand- I can't act on it. Generally good practice. If your neighbor tells you your child swore at or near them- that counts as first hand. If you choose not to act on it- your child has learned that they are not accountable for their actions when you are not present. That is a bad precedent. Not all adults are correct. But if you allow your child to disregard adults that you know, how do you think they will behave with other adults that don't know you to report back their behavior. There is no excuse for bad behavior. I don't care how many add/ adhd  or personality disorders you have. If you continue to behave poorly around me- your opportunities with me will be limited. 


SO part of me says relax and part of me says act now. Part of me says it won't matter at all anyhow. But make a difference I will -if just with my four cuz perhaps someday they will change four more. And four more after that and one day you will see- oh how much better things are with a little respect and dignity. SO now down I will step off my soap container, for what I've said could not be plainer. Now I must go wash some wash and shelve some shelves and well those little people I created cannot parent themselves.

Today's thoughts inspired by  quotes from one of my favoritest authors: Dr. Theodor Geisel

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind"

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,

Nothing is going to get better. It's not."

He who makes a beast out of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man

Lost and Found.

There are many rites of passage in our world. Graduating, getting married, having children. Each one inducts you into a not so secret society through the shared common bonds. Women who hardly know each other can sit around the kitchen and go into great detail of birthing experiences while men slink off at the first utterance of the word contractions.  It is impolite to pass gas at such a gathering, yet stories will include details such as effacement, tearing, and pushing. These stories are produced like certificates confirming eligibility into the society of parenthood. Friends who have tirelessly tried to conceive will regale the society with tales of induced hormone rages.  I've had friends who adopt share their stories of traveling around the world, living months in a 3rd world country to bring home a sweet baby. All because so many of us are hardwired to propogate the species and go forth on one of life's greatest and most dangerous journeys-Parenting.

There are rows of books telling you what to expect and how to help yourself through this harrowing time. Because shortly after the little cretins learn to walk, they become this self centered little bundle of personality and one soon forgets all the trouble one went to of producing this little angel. Apparently the little angels aren't hard wired for self preservation despite what many of the anthropologists tell us. They are Evel Knievel meets Beavis and Butthead.  They will scale great heights to jump off. They will touch things that are clearly not meant to be touched- such as fire, or ice, or the brand new flat screen television.  They will eat things never meant for consumption such as soap, garbage and poo. And just for the record, the soap does not counteract the ickiness of poo within the digestive tract, quite the opposite really. You will learn that to these miniature humans, bodily functions are very entertaining, especially in public.  In many ways they are like having pets with the potential for evolution by adulthood. Due to such probability, it is generally frowned upon to leash, cage, or restrain said creatures. There is also a recent movement that protests the leashing, caging or restraint of any living creature. The solution to all above mentioned problems seems to be the stroller. But I digress.

Last week there was a knock at the door right around dawn. In usual fashion, by the time I got downstairs my little cretins had pulled a chair over and unlocked the upper dead bolt. Like I said, evolution. And there at the door, was our neighbor with the most adorable canine specimen I had ever seen. She found her wandering around our alley and she was late for work, could we take in the pup?  Well my pets were jumping up and down chasing their own tails with excitement. Before I had even said goodbye, my eldest female had commandeered the tiny canine and instructed the others to pour a bowl of water and find food for her.  By the time I got to the kitchen, there were no less than 3 bowls filled with the finest filtered and bottled waters available. We like to offer our guests variety. Then the discussion began as to what we should call her.  As I rescued the poor thing from an interesting game of hot potato between my daughters- my middle child was preparing a bed for the animal and trying to get me to bundle her as a baby.  I noticed the puppy was developing a nervous tick and ordered everyone to get dressed so we could get the elder children to school  As soon as they left the room, the puppy stretched out on my lap and I discovered she was not a she after all.   The girls reappeared declaring they were going to name her Hannah. I explained that she was a he and that he had a name we just didn't know it.


After the elder children were off to school, the girls and I wandered from house to house trying to find the puppy's human. No one had seen him before but just about everyone was ready to keep him.  As we returned home, another neighbor was walking by and we stopped to show her our latest find. As we stood chatting- two ladies, 4 houses down come running out and the puppy immediately hurtles to them. They had run an errand first thing this morning and he snuck out. I giggled when the lady told me his name was Susie.  I learned that he was adorable, but the effort to keep him safe from smothering by 3 little girls was exhausting. I have a hard enough time keeping them from smothering each other- I'm not ready to throw another animal in the mix.

Fast forward a week.  The little girls and I were walking to the park that is 2 blocks away. Lily finds it amusing to make me run. Now that she can ride a 2 wheeler- it happens more than I would like. The rules for my running are immediate death or dismemberment and fire. Although certain death or dismemberment could technically occur whilst Lily is riding her 2 wheeler- it is not immediate. Usually.

 We often joke that Bella is our puppy. She eats off the floor, is somewhat house trained, and has tendencies to roll around on the ground. She also likes to chase birds. But most kids do, so by itself that criteria doesn't always stand.  We finished playing at the park and were perched on the street corner in our usual debate- which way should we go home. Lily wants to go left. Bella right.  Lily takes off and Bella takes the cue to sprint in the opposite direction. I am calling to both and run after Lily because Bella usually will cave and follow after us. Bella yells she knows how to go home this way. I catch Lily and we return to the street corner. Mind you, I would be faster if not hindered by the stroller that the puppy insisted on bringing.  I can't see Bella. We jog back down to the alley and I am hoping to cut her off before she crosses the street. We get to the sidewalk- no Bella. We run to the left crossing another alley until I can see our house- the whole time we are calling her name. No Bella. Maybe she was actually obeying the rule of not crossing the street without an adult and went back to the park. Back we go.  No Bella.  I spot a Geek Squad Puch Buggy driving by. I wave him down. I ask him if on his way down the street he sees a little girl with a green polka dot shirt could he please honk? He offers to drive around the block. I call my neighbor as we walk down the block. The punch buggy zooms back, he asks me if we live on Kaiee street? The anxious nausea is starting to ebb. She is sitting on our porch. He says he will go wait with her until we get there. Lily and I run(and bike) back to the house. As I get to our street, 2 neighbors are on hand and the punch buggy is parked in front of the house.  As soon as Bella sees me, she runs over and I see something I've only seen once or twice in her eyes- fear.  Are you supposed to run away from me?  No, she buries her head in my shoulder. If she had a tail, it would be between her legs. Are you supposed to cross the street without an adult?  I looked both ways.  Ugh.  Despite the fact that I know she learned her lesson, I know this will not be the last time something like this happens. I feel compelled to remind her of it periodically throughout the day. My mom friends all commisserate and recount the times they lost a child.  It is another one of those parenthood milestones.   

I learned a couple of things. Bella does know her way home from the park. Pretty impressive considering in this cookie cutter neighborhood there are no less than 3 houses on any block that look the exact same as ours. Secondly when push comes to shove-Despite my daily declaration otherwise, I do not want Bella to get lost. I have added lost children to acceptable reasons for running. And finally, I still don't believe in leashing children- but am considering buying a tranquilizer dart gun.

I asked Phillip to do a cartoon rendering for me of a dog in a stroller and a baby on a leash. A bit heavy on the black, but as Phillip put it- it's a streeeeet. Yeesh. Another one of those fun parental things- molding little minds in your favor.