Chinny-Chin-Chin
10 years ago
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Lessons From An Eight Year Old
I was browsing through the past, the days when things were perhaps more whimsical and sweet. Days when my daughter was still filled with wonder and imagination, days when life was what she wanted it to be as an eight year old. I love her total indulgence in her imagination without shame or hesitation. I love how she loves herself at these moments.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Everyday is Mother's Day
Honestly, I don't expect the one special weekend in May to be anything but chaotic and I am never disappointed. Mother's Day weekend is the hardest holiday of the entire year. The expected always happens. For instance, when the Erickson's come over for brunch, three things will inevitably happen. One, somebody assigned a crucial food assignment will be very late, leading to a half hour of disharmony. Two, some kid will get hurt, there will be tears. Three, Tanner will have a violent meltdown. And that is exactly how it went down this year...
Mother's Day morning is similar in it's predictability. I like to sleep until 11:00am, I lock the bedroom door, put earplugs in and try not to pay attention to what is going on in the other room. I am passively hoping that somebody else will be keeping a leash on Tanner.Later, I emerge from my bedroom fully braced as to what disasters have occurred during my slumber. I am never disappointed. This year I awoke to a cacophony of four different musical selections playing simultaneously and loudly: classical music and Madonna playing from the computer speakers, radio static and Toy Story playing from the TV. And there was a fully contented Tanner on the couch surrounded with a shower of Captain Crunch and Fruit Loops along with the ripped, empty boxes strewn about. Next, I reluctantly checked the laundry room (Tanner's favorite place to wreck havoc). On the floor was the present I was to give to my own mother, irreparably damaged.Wires, chargers and electronic devices were scattered around as if the FBI came through looking for evidence. The sheer scale of the disaster was breathtaking yet satisfyingly humorous. I have seen this all before. What makes Mother's Day any different from any other day.
new relish tray which almost became my mom's present
my usually organized laundry room
the monster mess maker
Mother's Day morning is similar in it's predictability. I like to sleep until 11:00am, I lock the bedroom door, put earplugs in and try not to pay attention to what is going on in the other room. I am passively hoping that somebody else will be keeping a leash on Tanner.Later, I emerge from my bedroom fully braced as to what disasters have occurred during my slumber. I am never disappointed. This year I awoke to a cacophony of four different musical selections playing simultaneously and loudly: classical music and Madonna playing from the computer speakers, radio static and Toy Story playing from the TV. And there was a fully contented Tanner on the couch surrounded with a shower of Captain Crunch and Fruit Loops along with the ripped, empty boxes strewn about. Next, I reluctantly checked the laundry room (Tanner's favorite place to wreck havoc). On the floor was the present I was to give to my own mother, irreparably damaged.Wires, chargers and electronic devices were scattered around as if the FBI came through looking for evidence. The sheer scale of the disaster was breathtaking yet satisfyingly humorous. I have seen this all before. What makes Mother's Day any different from any other day.
new relish tray which almost became my mom's present
the monster mess maker
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