All eleven of us were sitting around the dinner table when it dawned on me--it's that time of year again.
"Ben, isn't Prom coming up soon?"
"Saturday night," he said, gulping down another bite of Pioneer Woman's Sour Cream Noodle Bake. (Love that stuff.)
"Aren't you going?" asked Captain Fun. Not a surprising question coming from the Captain.
"Wasn't planning on it."
The Fun in Captain Fun took over.
I started feeling a familiar pain in my lower back last Friday night. Kidney stone, I self diagnosed, as I had had one about 25 years ago. Over the years, it has surfaced here and there, but if I drink lots of water it works its way out.
Two aspirin didn't help. Two Advil didn't touch it. Late into the night, the Captain noticed I was a little restless. "You okay?"
"Yes. Kidney stone. Just need to drink more water," I said.
Writer John Trent says people basically have one of four personalities: beaver, lion, otter or retriever. My husband, aka Captain Fun, is a fun-loving otter who is always trying to force fun on me. It gets annoying when you're a working beaver.
When we took our daughter, Bethany, to NYC for the day for her 21st birthday last summer, Captain Fun had to bring all the kids back down just 48 hours later. No problem. It was only 8 kids and Grandma.
Around our house, a new year always stirs up talk of new goals. Here are my goals- some old, some new- for 2017.
I will not scold happy noise.
I will, without apology, be the nutrition, hygiene, and screen police.
I will increase book and board game time and decrease screen time in my home.
I will not tolerate back talk in any form, including duh, huh, or a rolling of even half an eyeball.
I'm the mother, I'm the mother, I'm the mother.
I will find the balance between Helicopter Mom and Tiger Mom.
I was doing my usual Saturday morning routine of cleaning everything in sight. With toilet brush in hand, I heard the familiar request.
"Play with us, Mom. You can be the General."
Sigh. "I can't. I am cleaning the bathrooms." Cory and Silas, in the middle of a game of battle, knew it was futile to ask again. Especially on Saturday morning.
As I swished the Comet around the toilet, an idea struck. I stepped out of the upstairs bathroom and peered over the railing, searching for my two little soldiers.