The Sorest Loser

"That's not fair!"  - my son to his sister, while playing UNO.

"You're cheating!" - my son to his sister, while playing the card game WAR.

 "You're a liar!" - my son to his sister, while playing Candy Land.

Is it any wonder when I got to the passage about six-year-olds being sore losers in Your Six-Year-Old:  Loving And Defiant,  by Louise Bates Ames, Ph.D. & Frances Ilg, M.D., that it sounded so familiar?

The wise lady authors say, "To lose with a smile requires first of all that you do not care too terribly about the game -- and that you must be able to take a back seat once in a while.  The ordinary Six-year-old has neither of these abilities.  His emotions are violent and he cares intensely about almost everything.  It is almost impossible for him to take a back seat.  One of the cardinal rules in his life is that he wants and needs to be first."

Yeah, that's my boy ... at least, that's him when playing with his twin sister, who is, of course, also six.

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Whassup With The Potentially Shorter School Year?

This year the school year may wind up being seven days shorter, and I'm steamed about it.  You can read more here:  http://momsla.com/2011/08/the-school-year-may-be-seven-days-shorter-whats-a-working-mom-to-do/

The Defiant Ones

I just finished reading YOUR SIX-YEAR OLD:  LOVING AND DEFIANT, by Louise Bates Ames, Ph.D. & Frances L. Ilg, M.D.  I don't have a PhD nor an MD, but I could have told them about six-year-olds being loving and defiant:  after spending half a year with twin six-year-olds, I should be awarded my own PhD in six-year-old studies.

My boy nails that  "loving-and-defiant" thing.  Just this morning, he left the house blowing me a kiss and calling me his "true love."  Okay, it's a little Oedipal, but I'll take it:  it's really sweet.

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Where Have I Been Lately?

Not posting here, my faithful readers, and my apololgies for that.  You'll find an account of my so-called "summer vacation" on the momsla website, here:  There's No Such Thing As Summer Vacation. And I'll have an article featured soon on the MotherhoodLater site and/or its spin-off webzine, BabyBloomer.

But writing elsewhere is no excuse not to keep faithful with my faithful.  So a brand new post is underway...
coming very soon.  In the meantime, happy midsummer.

The Drill Sergeant Takes A Vacation

A strange and amazing thing happened not long after I wrote my last post.  I only had to get one kid ready for school and out the door -- Thing 2.  Thing 1, poor lil' guy, was sleeping in after being up much of the preceding night with a cough.  Thing 2 got herself up and dressed, brushed her hair, and appeared in sprightly and cooperative manner at the breakfast table.  She ate what was put in front of her with nary a complaint.  She had a pleasant breakfast, but didn't dawdle to the point where she had to be nagged to finish.  She brushed her teeth when asked, cooperated for the application of sun screen, got her shoes and backpack on, received a reward sticker, and popped out the door with Daddy, right on time.

I thought it was a fluke, this oddly helpful behavior, this smooth morning vibe, this easy-peasy morning routine.  But then it repeated itself a second morning, while Thing 1 remained in bed again.

My inner Drill Sergeant had been granted leave, and happily went on vacation.

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What We Say, What They Hear

Years ago, FAR SIDE cartoonist/genius Gary Larson drew a cartoon in which a man was talking to his dog Ginger about her habit of rifling through the garbage.  The cartoon was captioned, "What We Say To Dogs" and "What they hear."  The man went on about how Ginger had better not get into the garbage again, or else, but all the dog heard was, "Blah blah blah GINGER, blah blah blah GINGER."  (You'll find the cartoon here.) But you can already guess my point:  this is pretty much how six-year-olds hear their parents.

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Life Is Too Short For Birthday Party Pizza

To all whom I'm about to offend -- especially parents who have graciously invited my kids to your kid's birthday party -- I apologize.  But I cannot help myself.

Life really is too short for Birthday Party Pizza.

By Birthday Party Pizza, I mean the super cheap kind that comes from a national fast-food chain and is meant to inexpensively feed a horde of small children who'd rather get right to the main event -- birthday cake -- and is also meant to feed parents who attend the parties too and find themselves in need of a little more sustenance than the precut carrots, celery sticks and ranch dressing.

In this day and age of slow food, locally grown ingredients, organic this and free-range that, there is some awesome pizza to be had out there.

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