Category Archives: Parenthood

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The Crow-Eater, The 16 Year Old, & The New Car

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Well, one of the things that I had ALWAYS  said as a parent that I would NEVER do is buy my kids a car.  Why did I feel the need to make this declaration to my children? 

Well, we live in a fairly affluent suburb (that’s putting it mildly) of a major metropolitan area and we live in an older part of this burb that I lovingly refer to as the “slums.”  Our house is 30 +/- years old and does not resemble a small hotel like a lot of the houses in our area.  I think it is safe to say that quite a few kids in our burb expect cars on their 16th birthdays so I wanted to make sure and squash that dream completely and swiftly before the poor things had a chance to fantasize about their new rides (remember, my kids are under a dictatorship right now).  However, my early edicts about birthday cars have gone unheeded and they still say things like, “When I turn 16, my first car is going to be [insert name of car here].”  It’s hard to suppress the dreams of little munchkins, isn’t it?  When they would utter those ridiculous words, I had to remind them that neither their father nor I got a car on our 16th birthday and they weren’t either!  What was good for us was certainly good for them!  Right!?

When I was growing up (I also grew up in this burb, but we were not of the affluent nature), I shared cars with my parents and sister.  We were a two-car family and there was always one available to drive on the weekends.  Also, I had friends with cars (that they purchased themselves!), so there was abundant transportation available.  It worked out and I didn’t waste too much time wishing for a car of my own.

So, what changed my mind about the additional car? (I was probably more adamant than my husband on the birthday car thing.)  A few things:

1.  We are, in a sense, a one-car family.  My husband’s car is a company car and the kids will not be covered drivers (I was just added last year for emergency purposes!).  The one car, as you all know, is the Lemon/ Minivan/Taxi (pick your poison).   You’re saying, “So, what?!”  Okay, let’s say we just had the minivan available (see pic),  am I going to let her take it out on weekends and turn it into a party wagon? (Can you even turn a Town & Country into a “party wagon”?  I guess that is debatable.)  Not that my daughter is of the Party Girl variety (she really isn’t), but I don’t want her (& her friends) to be tempted.

 

 

 

2. I spend more time in my minivan –  more than anywhere else it seems (it is not voluntarily getting a spa day like the Toyota Sienna Mom – see below).  When would Rachel have a chance to hone her driving skills?  Even after she gets her license (in June), she still can’t help me with carpooling (new drivers can’t have anyone under the age of 18 in the vehicle for 6 months).  We would be constantly vying for the van and I, of course, would win (I mean, I am the Mom!).

 

 

In the environment in which we are raising our kids, it can be difficult to hinder a sense of entitlement (they are surrounded by it).  We really want to raise our children with the sense of the value of  money, with the awareness that the world does NOT revolve around them and with the thought that they should pay it forward.  I felt like I was giving in on the birthday car and I hate giving in!  I mean, I’ve been brainwashing them since Rachel was 10 (Maddie was 7 & Jack was 4) that this was not in their futures.

I discussed my back tracking/crow eating ponderings with the hubby and we both agreed that buying another car made sense for us as a family with three kids, but we made some guidelines to make us (me) feel better regarding the about-face we were making.

1.  It is a 3rd family vehicle and NOT Rachel’s car.  It is a car that we have available for her to borrow.

2.  She will buy her own gas.  We will do regular maintenance on it and pay the insurance on it because it is NOT hers.

3.  She will respect the car and the owners (her parental units) by not trashing it (not that she would, but we need to lay down the rules, man!).

Here is the car that we bought yesterday and picked up today:  

 After driving it around today, I may give her the Party Wagon and take the CRV!  I’m not “rockin’ mom jeans” as the Sienna Mom says.

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Where the Heck is Waldo*?!?!

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*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

My son’s 10th birthday party was this past weekend and he had invited 8 of his friends to play some laser tag at Laser Flash.  The boys love it because they get to pretend to shoot people (& things) and there is a beginner gambling hall (a.k.a.  arcade) available!  Parents love it because there are Party Assistants that take care of EVERYTHING (serving the kids the pizza, soda, cake,  writing down gifts & names, etc).

Well, the kids have played their 40 minutes of laser tag, have eaten a TON of pizza (the 2 large pizzas we ordered were almost NOT enough for nine 10-yr-old boys) and cake (some boys had TWO pieces) and have analyzed their scorecards.  Now, it is time for a little gambling!  The Party Assistant handed out their tokens and off they went!   [Side note on the food – when do boys start eating you out of house and home?  My other two kids are daughters and they don’t do that.  The food consumption caught me off guard!] 

 

The arcade is not really gambling, but to me it’s just the first step.  They clamour for tokens and spend their tokens at a frighteningly frantic pace (my son had spent all of his 22 tokens in 5 minutes) in the endless pursuit for tickets.  The frantic nature of their quest for the most tickets amongst their peers is akin to an addiction to me.  They get a crazed look in their eyes and run like fanatics from game to game to game.  Then, they get to “spend” their tickets on, well, crap.  That is the only word I can think of to describe the abundant offerings at the ticket redemption counter.

Now, back to the story – once all of the kids ran off to the arcade, our Party Assistant noticed one cup of tokens left on the table.  He said that he thought that the blonde kid had gone to the bathroom – we confirmed with the PA where he was sitting during the Pizza & Cake frenzy and determined that the mystery kid was Waldo.  Well, Waldo had been gone maybe a little too long for a bathroom visit, so Mike went to find him.  He came out of the bathroom – no Waldo.  Where did he go?  Why didn’t he come back to the table to get his tokens?  We started wandering around the arcade (it really isn’t that big of a place) looking for Waldo.  We asked all of the boys if they had seen him and they all answered in the negative.  Now, my heart is racing because I’m thinking to myself, “Not again.”  (I will explain the “not again” later).  I look at my husband and I know he also just had the same thought (“not again”).  We got the staff involved and they were awesome!  They got on the PA, someone accompanied my husband to search outside, and the staff looked in every nook and cranny of the place. 

I can’t adequately describe to you the sickening feeling I had – it’s one thing to think that you’ve misplaced your own child, but lose another person’s child is unspeakable.   What had happened to him?

 

In my brain, I kept thinking that Fox 59 News was going to show up any minute to expose us for what we really were – the worst party chaperones (parents, human beings, you name it) on the planet. 

Fox 59:  “So, can you tell us how you lost a 10-yr-old boy in your care?”

Jenni:   “Ummmm…..”

Fox 59:  “How come you did not keep track of all of the boys at all times?”

Jenni:  {It’s like herding cats!”}  “Well, Umm….”

Fox 59:  “How will you be able to sleep tonight knowing that you have your son and Waldo’s family is now missing theirs?”

Jenni:  ”  I, uh …….”

What had happened to poor Waldo? Who had him?  I started imagining the outcry for our heads, the law suits, etc.  These along with other images and thoughts were flooding my head as we were looking for Waldo for the 15-20 minutes that this ordeal lasted.

The manager asked me, “Do you think he had been picked up already?”.  My first thought was that I hoped so, but what kind of parent would pick up his kid without at least having him thank Jack for inviting him and letting us know that he was taking him? 

The manager called the number on Waldo’s registration form – answering machine.  I had asked the girls (who were at home) to track down the cell number of Waldo’s mom (Waldo’s parents are divorced) and as I was getting ready to call her, I hung up.  I looked at the manager and said, “What do I say?  Hello, we’ve lost your child.”?  He offered to make the call (bless his heart) – she confirmed that Waldo was with his dad this weekend and she would call to see if he had picked up Waldo.  We were waiting anxiously for her return call – she finally called back and confirmed that Waldo’s father had actually been at the arcade the ENTIRE time and he did currently have Waldo with him. 

What?!

Both of us were FURIOUS!!!  We were t-h-i-s close to calling 911!!  He was in the arcade the entire time, did not introduce himself to us, and then whisked his kid away without telling us!  Huh?!  What kind of jerk (clean version) does that?!  Well, apparently, Waldo’s father!!!  We called off the outside search team, thanked the staff profusely for their help and apologized on behalf of the !#$%@ father!

Once we made sure that all of the other boys were picked up by a parent that we recognized (we checked and double checked), we went home.  On the way home, I felt that I owed Waldo’s mom an explanation for the strange call from Laser Flash.  By the end of the conversation, she was ready to rip the dad a new one!  Good!

Explanation for the “Not Again” Comment Earlier in the this Post:

At Jack’s 9th birthday party at Laser Flash (last year), we had another almost 911 incident.  One of the invitees (we’ll call him Fred*) lived (and still does) in our neighborhood and we offered to bring him home.  I don’t think Fred ever really understood that he was riding home with us.  As the parents were coming to get their children, we were greeting them and also trying to keep track of the remaining children.  At some point, both Mike and I had realized that we hadn’t seen Fred in a while.  We asked Jack where he was – he didn’t know.  We started roaming the arcade and could not find him ANYWHERE.   Again, the same panic as stated above.  Again, the staff was great – they started an all out search party.  The couple I was speaking with as we realized Fred was missing left with their kids.  And, then not 1 minute after they left, that same couple gave me a call.  There was a boy standing at the end of the parking lot near the busy street – could that be our missing boy?  I ran outside and it was Fred!  What the heck?  I guess he wanted to go outside to wait for his parents (who were NEVER coming!).

I’ve never had a kid do that before at a party.  We have three kids and we’ve hosted multiple birthday parties!!! We never had this problem at any of the girls’ parties. Why is that?!

Fred was invited again this year and we made sure that he knew that he was riding home with us so we wouldn’t have another incident.  A lot of good that did for us.  It still happened again! 

Is it just me and Mike?  Are we really bad chaperones?  We are beginning to wonder.  People may stop entrusting us with their children.

Mike and I have had enough of birthday parties for a while . . . . . Oh, wait, we have one more this year – Rachel’s 16th!  H-E-L-P!

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Jenni said, “I’m NEVER Doing THAT!”

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I was talking with my Miss Maddie the other day and I’m not sure how we got on this topic, but it was about the things parents end up doing that (A) we think we will NEVER do – or – (B) think we will NEVER experience  – or – (C) think we will ALWAYS do.

Jenni’s List

 (not in any particular order)

1.  My diaper bag will ALWAYS contain every essential known to babydom:  formula, bottle, water for formula, diapers, wipes, diaper rash cream, extra pacifier, toys, extra outfit, blanket, etc. – Yep, I know, crazy!  Right? But, as you may recall, my Type A personality likes order and also likes to minimize surprises.  Well, I’m sure all of us, at one point or another, has encountered a deficiency in the diaper bag.  With 3 kids, it did happen more frequently than I wanted, but what are you going to do?

2.  I will NEVER go to work with spit up on my clothes. – I’m sure many of us have left the house all spiffed up unaware of the goo we were wearing.  I distinctly remember going to work (different incidents) with spit up on the back of my blouse and graham cracker fingerprints on the back of my blouse.  Why is it always on the back? Of course, it took another mom in the office to let me in on my outfit embellishments!

3.  I will NEVER wipe snot with my bare hands. – In one of my many office settings of my illustrious careers (before Mike and I were married), a new mom was telling the tale of when she had to wipe snot with her bare hands because there was nothing else available.  Well, when I heard that, I was like, “Why wouldn’t you just have tissues in your purse, diaper bag and car at all times? Duh!”  Well, Every time I have wiped snot from one of kids’ runny noses with my bare hands, the smug thoughts I had about my co-worker float to the surface.  Like an idiot I didn’t always follow my own advice!  I do have to ask , why, as moms, do we feel the need to share that kind of story with anyone, let alone casual, kidless co-workers (are we trying to scare them away from parenthood?)? 

4.  I will NEVER give my kids sweets as a toddler. – Well, Rachel was our first and very much deprived of traditional sweets until she was about 4 probably.  She was my first baby and I followed every guideline to the nth degree.  Now, Maddie, the next in line, was different.  I think that happens with subsequent kids, don’t you think?  We were in Michigan for vacation in July, so that would make Maddie 5 months old.  She had her first frozen popsicle on that vacation (the kind that are liquid first and freeze – our family calls them Ben Baxter pops (long story)).  It was like a drug for her – when one came into her line of vision, she would reach out for it and her whole body would wriggle until you gave her some.  I guess we blew that one!

5.  I will NEVER get peed on or pooped on by my baby. – Yeah, right.  What was I thinking?  That is one of three things babies primarily do – cry, eat, & generate dirty diapers.  One of the girls (she shall go un-named) was 3 mos old and had an explosion in her diaper so big that we had to cut her clothes off!  They were unsalvageable!! It took two of us to manage this explosion – while one of us was extracting her from her clothing (Mike), the other one had to get the bath going (me)!  That was something I definitely couldn’t have anticipated.  Oh, and I eventually had a boy, so, yeah, duh!

6.   I will NEVER let my kid walk around with a pacifier in her mouth at all times – Oh brother!  We blew that one right away with our first child.  We had it clipped to her so she wouldn’t lose it – what the hell were we thinking?!  Getting that thing away from her when she was four was harder than getting an addict to give up cocaine.  We had to wean her off of it slowly.  She could have it for naps and bedtime only, then bedtime only and then nothing at all.  To replace the pacifier, we bought her a Mickey Mouse Playskool glow worm – that went over like a lead balloon!  When we noticed her sleeping, she just substituted the “pacie” with her thumb!!!  Now, what?  It took her dentist to convince her that she was going to ruin her teeth if she kept sucking her thumb – she literally gave it up that night after her appointment.  We were very careful with our other two after that!

7.  I will  NEVER say to my kids, “Because I Told You So!” – When I was kid and my parents said that to me, I promised myself that I would never say that to my kids!  Well, what can I say?  I say IT all of the time!  And, I usually add, “I don’t have to get your buy-in because this is not a democracy!  It is a dictatorship!”.  That’s a new thing that I added to it – I think it adds a certain flair, don’t you?

8.  I will NEVER yell at my kids like my parents did.  I will ALWAYS talk to them in an even tone of voice. – Um, if you’ve read my post “The Mom, the 4th Grader and the ISP” then you know that I have already broken this promise.  I love my kids, but they can bring out “Crazy Mommy” faster than any other human beings on earth!

9.  I will NEVER let my kids get hooked on Barney (he was the hot ticket when Rachel was born).  Well, one of Mike’s “friends” gave us a Barney video for Rachel and then she fell in love.  However, we stubbornly refused to buy her a Barney stuffed animal until she started sleeping with an empty Barney shampoo bottle – his name was Shampoo Barney (it was so pitiful).  Okay, again, not sure how we could have prevented our daughter from falling in love with the nicest dinosaur EVER!  So when the Teletubbies were hot when Maddie was a toddler, we just gave in.  How can you fight the advertising machine?! (I know, don’t let my kids watch TV.  Yeah, right!).

 

10. I will NEVER ……….Well, it would be great if I could think of a 10th one so we would have a Top 10 of sorts, but I can’t.  I think that there were only 9.  Of course, these were only really applicable when we were new parents and the kids were young.  I have to say that Mike and I haven’t really developed any “I will NEVERs” or “I will ALWAYs” for the teen years because we were too busy and too pooped to think straight when they were toddlers to give two hoots about the tween & teen years (they were SO far off)!  I also think it was because the “rules” that we had laid out for ourselves as new parents were blown out of the water as soon as we had kids!  We have definitely learned that we need to be agile, fluid and adaptable when raising children because things rarely go as planned.  Now, we  are flying by the seat of our pants and making it up as we go along  . . . .  Here we go!

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The Day the Rabbit Almost Died

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It is the summer of 2005 and my mom would be celebrating her 65th birthday on July 26th.  Another milestone birthday!  My dad wanted to have a surprise dinner party with about 16-20 of their closest friends.  Dad and I had worked out the details and agreed that it would be best if it were at our house and we would have it catered.  And, we picked a date – Saturday, July 30th.  Perfect! 

The Players

The Caterer

The caterer – where to begin?  Okay, my dad has a cooking gadget habit – it is really bad.  You cannot take the man near a gourmet store that sells expensive cookware and spices without him going in and dropping $50 !SNAP!, like that.  He is like Carrie Bradshaw (Sex in the City) and shoe stores – I mean it!  Anyway, he knew the owners of the Corner Gourmet (which has since gone out of business – R.I.P.) since he frequented their cooking classes (usually with me or mom in tow) and bought stuff every time he was in there!  When dad walked in, they had to be thinking, “Cha-ching!”.  The owners did not have a robust catering business, but they knew how to cook and dad asked them to cater mom’s birthday bash.  The owner hesitantly agreed to do it (he was out of catering practice)!  We picked the menu and we were good to go!

The New Puppy – Jasper

I had resisted allowing a dog to become a member of the Engledow household for a long time (we had 3 kids and we were BUSY).   However, the summer of 2005 was different.  My husband had had it with my attitude about the dog.  “I want a dog, the kids want a dog, damn it, we’re getting a dog!”.  Well, okay then!  I guess we are getting a dog!  

If we were going to make that leap, this was the summer to do it because Mike was on sabbatical due to a job change combined with a non-compete clause.  He was staying home with the kids and could train the puppy.  So, long story short, we bought a 1st generation golden doodle from a breeder in Jasper, IN (don’t ask us how much we paid for this puppy!).  The dog was a surprise for the girls (Ages 8 and 11).  They were at church camp for a week and were coming home on Sunday, July 24th.  Mike, Sue (my sis-in-law) and little Jack picked up the dog on Saturday, July 23rd.  Of course, Mike and I were awarded Parents of Year on that Sunday!

Napoleon

For Maddie, this was the summer between 2nd and 3rd grade.  Mrs. Hill needed some volunteers to take care of the class bunny, Napoleon, over the summer.  The plan was to have a different child watch the rabbit each week of the summer.  [Is it just me or does this sound like a really bad idea?! I’m picturing a completely psycho bunny by the end of the summer, aren’t you?]  Maddie’s Napoleon week began on Saturday, July 30th!

Maddie

My lovely, independent, stubborn, beautiful, strong-willed, high-spirited, 8-year-old daughter was (and still is) a force to be reckoned with.  I have no doubt in my mind that Miss Maddie will someday rule the world, but unfortunately for her, her time is still yet to come.  She has the Engledow dictatorship to deal with now (she does try to topple this regime every so often; however, we have prevailed thus far!).  She was SUPER excited to get this bunny (I have denied her long-term bunny ownership because I am allergic).  She asked if she could play with the bunny, and I recall saying, “No, because we have to get ready for the party”, but she disputes  this memory and says that I allowed her to play with the bunny.  We are still on the waiting list to appear in front of Judge Judy to resolve this matter.

Let’s review the timeline, shall we???  

July 23rd – added Jasper, the golden doodle puppy (Age, 8 weeks!), to the Engledow household

July 30th –

Mid-Afternoon (3:00 pmish):   added Napoleon, the class bunny, to the Engledow household (albeit only for a week, but why this week?) 

6:00 pm:      Mom’s Surprise 65th Birthday catered affair also at the Engledow house / guests to arrive no later than 6:00pm, Birthday Girl to arrive at 6:30pm.

 

July 30th – Day of the Surprise Party

Okay, Napoleon arrives in the late afternoon as stated above.  Mom’s dearest friends, the Nancys (Nancy M. & Nancy F.), came to my house early (around 4 – 4:30pm)  to help me set up and decorate.  The caterer is supposed to arrive around 5:30pm.

Maddie is upstairs “not” playing with her new bunny; the dog is going insane trying to get into Maddie’s room to eat Napoleon; Rachel, the Nancys and I are cleaning, straightening and decorating.  I think my husband is out with Jack somewhere because I don’t recall him being in the house until later (I’ll get to that).  So, all is going according to plan until .. . . . . .

“Mommy? Can you come upstairs?”  (now it is about 30 minutes prior to the arrival of the caterer and 1 hour until showtime!)

I go upstairs into Maddie’s bedroom and I’m not sure I can describe this accurately, but there are rabbit droppings ALL OVER EVERY SQUARE INCH OF MADDIE’S ROOM!

Picture this EVERYWHERE all over the carpet in your kid’s bedroom!

(Now, if you have not read any of my prior posts, I need to briefly describe that I’m type A, like things organized at all times and wound tighter than a  drum before people come over to my house for parties.)  Okay, so I am speechless with anger, then I find my voice and ask her what the heck happened?  Of course, this is where the dispute occurs over whether or not she had permission to get the rabbit out (we really need a ruling here!).  I calm down a bit and realize that at this point it doesn’t matter who had permission to do what – the important thing was that we needed get that damn rabbit back in the cage before the guests arrive!  I can’t have that rabbit up there pooping ALL NIGHT IN HER ROOM while we are downstairs enjoying a nice dinner! 

Do you remember how I said that the rabbit had been man-handled by different families for the 8 weeks prior to us getting this rabbit?  Well, of course, now this thing HATES people and probably, most of all, little people!  At the time, Maddie had two twin beds in her room which were against walls in an “L” shape (can you picture it?) and the rabbit was hiding under one of the twin beds just pooping away!  UGH!!!!

After about 30 minutes of trying to catch this rabbit, I had to give up.  I mean, I had a caterer coming any minute!  I explained to Nancy M. and Nancy F. that we had a major problem – they were so great and I’m really glad they were there.  The Nancys and Rachel had been working very hard while I was upstairs trying to catch a rabbit!  Of course, we had Jasper and he had to be watched very carefully because, well, he was a puppy and not house-trained AND he wanted to meet Napoleon as soon as possible (at this point he had been ours for only a week!).

Mike finally comes home from wherever he had been (I can’t remember!).  I hysterically told Mike about the rabbit problem and he promptly went upstairs to do his manly duty and trap the animal.  Meanwhile, I’m waiting for the caterer (and waiting, and waiting, etc.)

5:30pm  

Where was the !*&^#%! caterer?!  Why hasn’t my husband come back downstairs yet? 

Well, I resisted going back upstairs to check on the Napoleon Wars, but I did.  What I found has been indelibly written on my brain.  I will try to paint you a picture.  After fending off Jasper who wanted desperately to get into Maddie’s room, I open the door.  Every single book in Maddie’s room (she has a TON of books) had been pulled from the shelves and propped against the sides of the twin beds (bedrail to floor).  I think this was to prevent the rabbit from going under the beds.  AND, there is rabbit poop everywhere!  It was hard NOT to walk on it.  EWWWW!

You have to picture this – one of the twin beds had been completely sealed off by princess stories, Junie B. Jones books, etc.  Mike, was laying on his stomach on the other twin bed with his head by the foot of the bed with a big book in his hands – it was the only opening available to Napoleon who was trapped under the bed.  The funny thing was that they had made a walled path the led to the rabbit’s cage – the walls were made of stacked books.  So,  if the Rabbit came out from under the bed, it would be forced to go toward the cage or back under the bed.  It clearly had taken the 30 minutes to construct this “Rabbit Trap” of sorts.   His plan was to seal the opening with the big book once the rabbit came out from under the bed.  He said that every time he tried to cover the entrance, the little bugger would sneak back under the bed.  Apparently, rabbits are really fast! 

I took over at this point and asked Mike to go downstairs because I needed something to distract me from the fact that the caterer was STILL NOT here!  Okay, so now I’M laying on the bed on my stomach with big book and BAM!  Napoleon came out, I sealed the opening to the under-bed hiding spot and coaxed him into the cage – a total of 5 minutes!  Now, I will admit that Mike did set up the “trap”, but I must be faster than a rabbit!

Of course, now there is the complete MESS that is Maddie’s room.  How are we going to get all of that rabbit poop from under the beds?  What about all of the books?  Maddie might have to sleep with her sister tonight!

6:00pm

After congratulating myself and grabbing Jasper,  I headed downstairs because the guests are finally arriving, and the caterer?  Well, he finally showed up!  He saw multiple cars at our next door neighbor’s house and started unloading at their house instead of ours!  I guess that was why he was late.  Well, he had about 20 minutes to get set up before the Birthday Girl was due to arrive (my father is NEVER late).  The caterer was going on about how he got lost, went to the wrong house, blah, blah, blah!  Just hurry up and get the food set up!! I don’t care about how you got lost!  Really!

6:30pm

The caterer was just finishing the food set-up (after everyone helped him get all of the “catering stuff and food” into the house) when the birthday girl arrived (right on time, I might add!).  Now, to mom and dad, everything looked perfect! Whew!  If it weren’t for the ingenuity of my husband, the hardworking Nancys and my daughter, Rachel, this day could have ended up a disaster.  Mom was truly surprised and the party was a great success.

BTW, the Rabbit lived and we gladly passed him along to the next family that following Saturday. . . . . . . .  .Good luck!

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OMG! Birds, Bees, Tweens & Teens

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According to the Youth Risk Behavior Survey (2007), a good third of middle schoolers have had sex before they enter high school.  This statistic made me choke on my coffee!  I heard it on the Today Show when they interviewed Amber Madison who is the author of the book, Talking Sex with Your Kids.  Next time I get to the bookstore, I’m going to get it.  That statistic blew me away – 1 in 3 kids.  I mean, I’m not naive in thinking that kids aren’t sexually active, it was just the high % at the early age.  Yikes!

Well, I’m sure a lot of parents struggle with discussing this topic with their children (or is it just me?).  My s-e-x talk between my mother and me was, let’s just say, not very informative.  My mom inherited my grandmother’s sense of modesty and just couldn’t bring herself to do it (love you, mom!).  I really got all of my B&B information from my friends and, as you know, that information is not always accurate or reliable.

So, I have decided to take the opposite approach to these “discussions” with my children.  My two lovely daughters (15 & 13) are SO different (which is to be expected), so that requires different strategies in approaching this topic.   It’s hard enough coming up with one strategy let alone two!  My son is next on the radar, but I’m thinking Mike should take this over.  I mean, I’m not sure Jack will want to hear this information from his Mother, right?  But, I will do what  a mother has to do.

“Shock & Awe” Strategy

My oldest daughter is the modest one (she gets that from her dad – clearly not moi) – I can’t even talk about shaving legs in front of  her!  She gets too embarrassed – wow, she has been the tough one.  That girl can talk 14 hours straight (it has been documented), but she WILL NOT give me an opening to talk about anything birdie or buzzy.  I know that every kid is different in how they process information etc.  But, I can’t help wondering if we marred her sensibilities early on when she was impressionable.  I can recall one instance that was (embarrassingly) relayed to us one afternoon by her grandparents (Mike’s parents): 

My in-laws were watching Rachel and she had to be around 3 years old.  As I recall the story, Nancy was talking to Rachel about graduating from baths to showers and had recommended to Rachel that she try it by taking a shower with her mommy some time.  And, Rachel, right on cue says to my mom-in-law, “You mean like daddy does?”. Ba-da-bum! 

Because she has refused to lend me a hand in any way,  I’ve labeled her B&B talk strategy ” Shock & Awe”.  Shock and awe, technically known as rapid dominance, is a military doctrine based on the use of overwhelming power, dominant battlefield awareness, dominant maneuvers, and spectacular displays of force to paralyze an adversary’s (or child’s) perception of the battlefield and destroy its will to fight.

My first attempts at talking with Rachel began between 5th and 6th grade and I had to create my own opportunities.  BTW, that is VERY hard to do if you want to be sly and sneaky,  and not “Honey, I think it’s time for the talk”.  So, I usually talk to her in the car because she can’t escape.  Fortunately, she hasn’t caught on to this because she keeps joining me on my errand runs!  Any way, my “Shock & Awe” strategy involves pouncing on her with talk, ignoring the inevitable protests and trying to “destroy her will to fight” (see above definition of S&A).  What else can I do?  She doesn’t leave me any options, so she gets info whether she wants it or not.  Of course, then she gets all huffy, BUT she has to listen because she is trapped in a moving vehicle :).  I get the “Do we have to talk about this now?”  AND a big giant eye roll. 

Since she doesn’t give me any hints or openings for discussion, I have to guess what topics should be expounded upon – I think I’ve done okay so far (but, how can I really know?).  My usual tact is to take a news headline and start the conversation that way.  Unfortunately or fortunately (depending on how you want to view it), the news outlets have an endless supply of material for me. 

The one drawback to the “Shock & Awe” strategy is information retention.  Is she really retaining anything I’m saying?  I just don’t know – instead of paying attention to the words coming out of my mouth, she is probably internally reacting to the surprise of the unexpected conversation and then beginning to plot on how to get me to just “shut up about it”.  Hmmmm, which Harry Potter spell would be best?  “Stupefy!” – knocks out an opponent;  “Imperio!” – power to control your opponent; or maybe, “Immobulus!” – renders your target immobile.  Meanwhile during Rachel’s internal struggle, I’m imparting the wisdom of the ages! HEL-LO!!

I’m not sure what to do about this unintended side effect, I can’t really give her a semester exam to see what she knows and what we need to review. 

“Be Prepared!” Strategy

The Scout Motto is: BE PREPARED which means you are always in a state of readiness in mind and body to do your DUTY.

I am borrowing the Boy Scout Motto, “BE PREPARED”  for this strategy – all will be revealed when you keep reading.  Maddie is the interrogator (I think every family has one and in our family, it was my sister) and the interrogations (pick a topic, ANY topic) seem to most often occur in the car (I guess I know how Rachel feels – Maddie pulls the “shock & awe” on me).  She was in 4th or 5th grade when we had the B-I-G talk in the car (how and when did parents have the B&B talks prior to the invention of the automobile?) – she starts the conversation by asking the question, “How do you know when you are pregnant?”.  At the time, I think I mentioned that one of her cousins was expecting.  Whoa, okay, what?!  She was at the age when they’ve seen the “movies” at school and we had already talked about the “monthly visit from Aunt Flo”.  So, I guess this was a perfect time to take that discussion to the next level – she gave me an opening and I needed to take it.

Mommy:  “You know how we’ve talked about periods?”

Maddie:  “Yeah”

Mommy:  “Well, when a woman gets pregnant, the lining of the uterus is like food for the fertilized egg.  So, when a woman’s period stops, then she knows she pregnant.

Maddie:  “Oh, okay. s-i-l-e-n-c-e.  How DO you get pregnant anyway?”

Mommy:  [What?! I hadn’t planned on having  THE talk in the CAR! This must be how Rachel feels.]   Hmmmm….. Okay. So I start with the “woman has the egg and the man has the sperm.” ” Both of these pieces together make embryo that eventually develops into a baby.” [Whew!  Glad that’s over!]

Maddie:  “How does the sperm get to the egg?  Do you have to go to a doctor’s office or a hospital to get this done?”

Mommy (giggling a bit):  [Oh, My God!  When is this going to end? I’m mean I’m trying to drive the car! I’ve always heard that you need to take the cues from your kids and if they keep going, you should as well. So, . . . .]  “Ummmm, well, you know how you have a va***a and boys have a p**is (she has seen her little brother walking around in his naked phase).  Those parts fit together like puzzle pieces . . . . . “

Maddie:  “Puzzle pieces?”

Mommy:  [I tried to make an image with my hands (see pic above)]  “Yes, puzzle pieces.  Men and women were made to fit together and when they do that it is called sex .” 

Maddie:  [She was quiet, then the] Do you and daddy do that?

Mommy:  “Well, yes, we did that for you, your sister and brother.”

Maddie:  “Just the three times?”

Mommy:  “Ummm, No.”  [And, then I proceed to talk about sex and how people do this because they like being close, it’s an expression of love, it’s enjoyable,  it’s not for just making babies, etc. Yikes, really not how I would have liked to have had this conversation, but I was not in control!]

Maddie (a slight confused look):  “You and daddy?  Where do you do this?”

Mommy:  [Now, I’m just mentally exhausted!]  ” Well, you know how daddy and I share the same bed?”

Maddie (eyes as big as saucers):  “EEEEWWWWW!  That’s gross!”  [Poor thing.  Like I said, I think I would have prepared something a little better, but I was working on the fly! Remember, BE PREPARED!]

Now that did it!  That final light bulb going on signaled the end of this B&B conversation.  But, I did tell her that I don’t think she should share with her friends what we’ve discussed.  Her friends’ parents would probably like to provide this information in their own way.  She assured me that she definitely would not be sharing this information with her friends (I think it is because she didn’t want to think about it!).  I could just picture her going to school and confusing the kids with the puzzle pieces thing and then telling them about what is going on in their parents’ bedrooms!  I kept envisioning a call from the Principal’s office, but it never came. Whew!

I have not shared details about any of Rachel’s conversations, because they are NOT conversations in the traditional sense.  They more closely resemble lectures. 

Of course, every time I have one of those discussions with the girls, I inform Mike so he is up to speed.  Whenever I give him the update, he just looks at me like, “I really don’t want to hear this” and is probably having the same internal struggle that Rachel has while talking with me (see Shock & Awe section).  So, again, I’m not sure of the information retention.

Parenthood is crazy and I really love it.  The kids really keep me on my toes!  It is exhausting always being on high alert, isn’t it?  Well, that is what we signed up for whether we knew it or not!

Bring it on!

Unknown's avatar

The Strangest Snack Daddy Never Had

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Maddie was about 5 years old (& Rachel 8 yrs old) which would mean that the funniest family dinner ever occurred in 2002.  This involves two separate stories that became intertwined in the brain of our Miss Maddie over one family dinner.  Story #1 involves Mike, a shoe and a toothpick and Story #2 involves Mike, Rachel and a toothpick.  These stories were conveyed immediately one after the other – this is an important fact to keep in mind.  Story #2 was prompted by Story #1 due to the common theme of toothpicks.

Story #1 – Mike, the shoe and the missing toothpicks.  We are sitting at the table and the dialogue begins –

Mike:  “By the way, where do we keep our toothpicks?”

Me:  “They are usually with the spices in the cabinet near the oven.  Why?”

Mike:  “Well, I stepped in dog poop outside in the front yard this morning and needed some toothpicks to get it out of my shoe. And, I couldn’t find the toothpicks so I had to use paper towels.  It was a mess.” 

Story #2 – Mike, Rachel and the toothpick.  Our oldest, Rachel, has always had a uniquely wonderful and quirky sense of humor – she can find humor in just about anything even when it really isn’t funny.  Mike mentioning the elusive toothpicks reminded Rachel (age 8 yrs) of a story that she wanted to tell about her day: 

Rachel was with Mike for most of the afternoon running errands and while they were out, they grabbed some sustenance at the Steak ‘n Shake.  The one thing that you need to know about my husband is that if the restaurant has toothpicks, he must grab one!  Okay, so he grabs a toothpick as they were leaving the Steak ‘n Shake , and when he gets into the car, promptly drops it – he drops it between the seat and the console.  Due to Mike’s massive forearms (according to you-know-who), he could not retrieve the wayward toothpick.  Rachel, with her tiny forearm and fingers, was able to carefully extract the item from the abyss into which it had fallen. Next, according to Rachel (and this is where she starts the giggling), she handed it back to daddy and he dropped it again into the same black hole!  I think this is when Mike decided that he was meant to have food stuck in his teeth and gave up. This was funny stuff to an 8 yr old!  Apparently, she cracked up then and was laughing silly at the dinner table during the re-telling.  I have to admit the rest of us sat there kind of stoned-faced waiting for the story to get funny.  (I did laugh a little at how much she was getting a kick out of it.)

 

At some point during the b-o-r-i-n-g toothpick/Steak ‘n Shake story, Maddie gets up from the table, goes to the spice cabinet and finds the toothpicks for her daddy.  She brings them to the table, gives them to Mike and sits down.

There was a pause in the action/discussion at the table and then Maddie, with a very confused look on her face, sweetly asks (wait for it. . . .wait for it), 

 “But, Daddy, how did you get poop stuck in your teeth?”

 

Then, there was a …….H U S H……… Mike and I stared at each other, and then the light bulbs when on for both of us.  The poor thing had thought the two stories were related somehow and she had become confused as both stories were being told at the dinner table. 

Maddie’s Brain trying to digest the story she just heard:

“Did Daddy eat poo by mistake??”

“Did poo accidentally fall into his open mouth while he was talking to someone??”

“Was he sleeping outside with his mouth wide open and some poo fell in??”

“Did someone disguise some poo as a snack as a joke and he didn’t know??”

For Maddie, toothpicks were things that one uses to pick things out of one’s teeth. PERIOD.  She thought her daddy needed some assistance in getting something unsavory out from between his teeth.

Well, you can imagine what happened next – we burst into uncontrollable laughter for what seemed like 5 minutes – Mike and I couldn’t speak we were laughing so hard (again with the tears!).  Rachel started laughing just because it was a funny question to ask your father and Jack, being only 2, was laughing because everyone else was laughing.  The only one not laughing was Maddie because she didn’t understand what just happened, she really just wanted an answer.

Once Mike was able to get a hold of himself, he tried to reassure our confused 5 yr old that he had not, at any time, noshed on dog poo and that the two stories were completely unrelated.  It took her a while to be convinced of that.

We will never really know what images were floating through that girl’s head that night at the dinner table – we will have to leave that up to, well, . . . . . the imagination!

Unknown's avatar

Jack and the Talking Snowman

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The chipmunk story has generated other memories of the many funny family stories we have experienced since our oldest was born in 1994.  Children really know how to make things interesting! I am taking this opportunity to put another one of our favorites in writing so we remember it properly.

This story happened at a work Christmas party hosted by my husband’s prior employer and I think it was December 2002.  It was a family friendly party held at Conner Prairie Interactive History Park.  Rachel was 8, Maddie was 5 and Jack was 2 1/2.  There was a dinner in the big banquet hall which was insane since there were a lot of little munchkins running around and parents trying to herd the munchkins, etc.  Then after the dinner, we were all invited to tour the grounds (while still herding our toddlers!).  Conner Prairie is a living museum which is a re-creation of an 1830’s prairie town – the staff dress, act and speak as if they are in the time period and they do not break out of character.

  

snowman

Okay, so back to the story.  To set the scene – the weather was cold, a little windy and lightly snowing.  The property looked picturesque in the dark with the lights and Christmas decorations.  We began roaming from building to building listening to the characters describe their lives and what they do, etc.  Okay, so we get to a building (bakery?, residence?, I just can’t remember so we will go with bakery) and all 5 of us walk in.  There were already about 15 others in the small, cramped hearth area of this bakery.  Mike was holding Jack so he could see since we were in the back of the room (Mike and Jack were standing behind me and the girls).  The prairie “character ” was a portly woman and was donned in a dress, bonnet and apron from the time period all in creams and whites (see above picture and picture a more rounded woman).  She began her spiel and all of sudden, I hear the sweet voice of my little Jackie say in his most excited LOUD tone (as if Bob the Builder were right in front of him), “SNOWMAN, DADDY!  SNOWMAN, DADDY!”

  

I turned around and gave Mike the eye, like “can you shush him?”.  I don’t think at that moment that I had heard exactly what he said.  But then, Jack cleared it up for me when he blurted again, “SNOWMAN, DADDY!  SNOWMAN!”  I turned around again and I saw my husband in tears from laughing so hard while also trying to hush the boy who was pointing and shouting.  Jack would not be satisfied until daddy matched his own excitement level and acknowledged how cool it was that there was a talking snowman in the front of the room!! Now, in Jack’s defense, if you look at the picture of the snowman and the picture of a portly 1830’s woman dressed all in creams, you could see the resemblance to a 3-section snowman.

Mike kept using the universal SHH sign – putting his finger to his lips to no avail.  You would think that by the 3rd child, we would have figured out by that time that this sign is usually ignored by toddlers. 

So, Jack not being deterred and still utterly unsatisfied with Mike’s ho-hum attitude toward the most amazing thing that this 2-yr-old had ever seen, did this:  Jack grabbed Mike’s face (one tiny hand on each of Mike’s cheeks), turned Mike’s face toward his, leaned in nose to nose and whispered “snowman, daddy….. snowman”.  Of course, in Jack’s 2-yr old brain he was whispering while in reality he was not.  That’s when Mike completely lost it and decided to take Jack outside for some fresh air because that boy would not be silenced! 

I’m sure Jack was thinking that we were complete idiots because we had failed to appreciate the fact that we were in the presence of a talking snowman and how often does THAT happen in someone’s life?!  How could he get through to us?  Well, by being loud and repetitive, of course!  I try that with the kids even now (being loud and repetitive with my requests) and it really doesn’t work.

It seemed like this went on FOREVER, but I’m sure this whole episode lasted about 10 minutes or less.  We really don’t know if the 1830’s character heard the Engledow commotion in the back of the room or not,  but it was a really small room and I’m sure everyone heard it.

It is hard to express in words how funny it was at the time.  We still whisper “Snowman, daddy! Snowman!” every now and then to each other and it always gets a giggle.

Unknown's avatar

The Engledows vs. The Chipmunk (circa 2004)

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Let me take you back to the Fall of 2004 – this is story that I have meant to put in writing ever since it happened.  We are still living in the house where the infamous battle took place – it was epic.  Rachel was 10 (5th grade), Maddie was 7 (2nd grade) and Jack was 4. 

DAY ONE:  One evening during the work week, we all came home and everything seemed normal until we walked into the family room.  All of the mullions from our family room windows had been knocked from their places and were laying on the couch, all of the items we had on our fireplace mantel were knocked over and ransacked, and the mullions from the windows in our master bedroom were also askew.  It was crazy – nothing was stolen.  What had happened?  Mike did his duty as the man of the house and checked out the entire house to make sure that there weren’t any strangers lurking in dark places. We were all safe – Whew! 

Later, away from the kids, Mike confessed to me that he thought we had a critter problem.

DAY TWO:  The next day, he borrowed a Havahart trap from his parents so we could catch the mystery critter.  Again, we all came home from our usual places.   Again with the mullions askew, the fireplace mantel ransacked, etc., etc.  As we were upstairs getting on our comfy clothes in order to put our house back together, I opened our closet door and there it was! It was a chipmunk!  I screamed, slammed the closet door, and we shoved a towel under the door thinking that would trap the animal!  Yeah, right.  They can get through spaces smaller than a thimble.  So, Mike got the trap, quickly opened the closet door, placed the trap in the closet, slammed the door and replaced the towel.  We were going to catch a chipmunk!

We did the usual that evening – ate dinner, played with the kids and went to bed.  The girls were somewhat aware that we had a critter on the loose, but Jack was not.

DAY THREE:   The next morning, Mike carefully opened the closet door and the trap was empty.  Now what?  Was it still in the closet?  Doubtful. Where was the ding dang thing?  Well, we just did not have the time to worry about it – we all had places to be.  We would just have to deal with it when we got home in the evening.  But, how?

Once again, here we are home from work and school, dinner eaten, and no chipmunk sighting.  Was he still around or had he decided to torment another family?   Just when I was beginning to think we were going to have to survive another evening with the enigmatic critter, things started to get interesting.  Mike and I were in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, Rachel was in her room upstairs and Jack was in the family room when Maddie yelled from the stairway, “Mommy, Mommy?!” 

Me:  “Honey, what is it?”

Maddie:  “My poop looks funny.”

Me:  “What!?”

Maddie:  “My poop looks furry.”

Me:  “FURRY?”

Back Story:  We found out about a year after it happened (why we were talking about it a year later, I can’t tell you) that BEFORE Maddie shouted down for help from Mommy & Daddy, she went to sissy for help first.  She did her business, flushed the toilet and the flushing wasn’t working (for obvious reasons). Concerned, she went and got her sister, Rachel, for a consultation. 

Maddie:  “What do you think?”

Rachel:   “I don’t know, what did you have for a snack today?”

Maddie:  “Fritos.”

Rachel:  “That’ll do it.”    [What?!  What kind of Fritos had Rachel been snacking on?!]

Mike looked at me with that knowing look.  I still hadn’t quite caught on.  Then, he said, “I think it’s our critter.”  Of course, I’m thinking, “NO WAY!”  We slowly crept upstairs and looked in the toilet . . . . . .  YEP, it was a poop covered chipmunk.  Well, you can imagine what happened next – we all broke out in extreme laughter!  Maddie had thought her poop had gone awry and it was just a sad, dead, really dirty chipmunk.

Well, how does one retrieve a poop covered chipmunk from a toilet?  We conferred a bit and Mike decided that the combination of a Target plastic bag and a pair of tongs would be best.  Now, as Mike was plucking the chipmunk from the toilet, his parents called so I told them what was going on and, of course, they found it funny and somewhat hard to believe.  We hung up and not 1 minute later, Mike’s sister, Beth, called to talk to Maddie about her experience.  Then a 1 minute after hanging up with Beth, Mike’s other sister, Sue, called to interview Maddie.  The Engledow phone chain was in fine working order (and it is faster than the speed of light)!

There were many questions surrounding the demise of the chipmunk – Mike thought he had committed suicide.  I guess we will never know.

The Christmas of 2004 was very interesting for the Mike Engledow Family.  We received a handmade board game that included tongs and chipmunk, as well as, 5 pairs of tongs (most of which are still in use to this day). 

I know that the story seems incredible, but many will swear to its authenticity!

Unknown's avatar

The Mom, the 4th Grader and the ISP (aka Independent Study Project)

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Independent. Study. Project.  Those may be the three most dreaded words whispered in our house.   My son, Jack, has been in the challenge program at his current elementary school since 2nd grade.   It is a program of accelerated learning and the kids in this program do the ISP every other year.  For Madeline (our middle one), it was 3rd and 5th grade.  For Jack, his rotation has been 2nd and 4th grade. 

The ISP spans 8 weeks of the school year – the kids have to pick an issue/problem to study, interview an “expert” in the topic, write a 4 to 5 page type-written paper, prepare a  “product”, prepare a tri-fold presentation board and give a 10-15 minute presentation to the class.    Did I mention that my son is 9 years old and in the 4th grade?  I don’t think I did anything like that until high school!  My son is super smart, loves math and science, loves to read, and HATES to write.  We made it through the 2nd grade ISP (topic = Jupiter)  with a large amount of micro-management (he was 7 yrs old!).  Third grade was a blessed relief and, now, here we are in the thick of another ISP. 

His topic of choice – Breast Cancer.  What?  I have discussed the breast cancer diagnosis of my best friend’s sister at the dinner table, but it wasn’t a reoccurring topic of table discussion. I tried to steer him toward a cancer topic that impacts children because I thought it would be more interesting for his classmates,  but he made a U-turn and would not be deterred.  So, here I am talking with my son about breasts, menopause, self-breast exams, estrogen, mammograms, etc.   I haven’t even had these discussions with my daughters!  Mike was like, “Testicular Cancer was already taken?”. 

Jack and I are complete opposites on the organizational scale (there should be an official name, like the Richter Scale) – I’m psycho and he’s mister “Whatever” (very similar to his father which makes our marriage work, weird, huh?).  This time around , I thought I would not micro-manage, you know, let him be a big boy and  take care of it himself. Right?  Okay, so we are about 5 weeks into the project, and on Monday (day after the store and green bean travesty), I decided to check on the status of the project: 

ME:  “Hey, buddy!  How are you doing on your timeline?  Can I see it?  Oh, your 1st draft is due this Friday? 

Jack:  “Yes, Mommy.”

Me:  “How much do you have done of your 4 pages? 

Jack:  “One. “

Me:  “ONE!?” [mommy tantrum and you can imagine the rest]. 

Okay, so now I’m back in management mode (trying not to get to the micro level).  So, we sat and got a game plan together regarding his paper.  He seemed grateful because I think he was truly overwhelmed by the scope of the project at hand.  And, remember he HATES writing.  He also types with one finger as I’m sure most 4th graders do and thus, the one page of the four-page paper. 

Tuesday, March 16th:  Jack forgot his project folder.  [mommy tantrum]  But, he was able to work on his paper because most of his research was from web sites  like WebMD.com, BreastCancer.org and the like.

Wednesday, March 17th: Again, Jack forgot his project fold  [I’m speechless with frustration]  So, he had to reprint the web sites (oh, the ink cartridges!).

Thursday, March 18th (night before the 1st draft is due):  Jack forgot the folder AGAIN!  For Jack’s sake, he stayed after school for something else and was able to retrieve the folder.  He put his final draft together (see prior post about the Thursday dinner).  So, the 1st draft of the paper was now complete.

This weekend begins the creation of the tri-fold poster board  presentation and the “product”.  Well, to Jack’s credit, he has made a layout of the presentation board on paper so he is thinking ahead (yeah!) and Mike will be assisting him in this part of the ISP – I mean, he is the architect, literally, of the family.  He does this for a living. I’m exhausted and it is time for some job-share.

Originally, for the Product, Jack wanted to do prepare a PowerPoint presentation, but I talked him out of it (more typing and pictures of what, breasts?).  So we needed another Product, I suggested maybe a magnet for the Mommies of his peers with some info on Breast Cancer health written on them.  Jack did agree to this alternate version of his dream of a PowerPoint on Breast Cancer (thank goodness since time is running out and he has one good typing finger).  I’m really glad he agreed to this because all of this has to be done by March 28th.    Presentations start on Monday, March 29th. 

Why do I care so much?  Well, Mike and I have talked about this many times.  We both agree that Jack truly cares about how he does in school, but the organizational skills required of him to be successful at the challenge level are higher than what he is able to give at this stage in his 9-yr-old life.   I know that  it is recommended that it is better to let our kids fail at this level than at the high school level where it truly matters.  They learn lessons, etc.  I agree with that premise when it is a child that is clearly capable and is not living up to his/her ability.  But, I am struggling with this topic with our little man because it is not a question of resistance, but a question of maturity.  You can’t MAKE someone mature because you want it.   Everyone knows that it is true!

I really do feel for him because sometimes he can’t play with the neighborhood kids after school because of his homework demands.  I do hope that this curriculum is worth it to our boy.  It seems to have helped Maddie quite a bit in junior high – she is very self-sufficient, makes almost straight A’s and doesn’t seem to struggle with written assignments, presentations, etc.  I’m hoping that he will also realize the benefits from this accelerated curriculum.

I love my little man so much and am trying to do the best by him regarding his schooling.  I have to say that we have not had any of these issues with girls, why is that?  Is it the difference in maturity between girls and boys?   I wish I knew!

However, what I can say is that Jack seems to take after his father in a lot of ways and that is not a bad thing!  Mike is a very successful human being as well as a businessman, so there is abundant hope for my little Jackie 🙂 

And, I need to RELAX 🙂