Tween Compliments Adult: Hell Has Officially Frozen Over

Aside from wanting to be involved in my daughter, N’s, life (because she’s 11 and I know my opportunities will soon evaporate), I also find being around the groups of young girls in her scout troop and cheer squad absolutely fascinating. They’re such strange creatures and the ever-shifting group dynamics are a better study in human behavior than any of the sociology courses I ever took in college.

So the other day, we were walking a long distance back to our cars after an overnight Girl Scout camping trip.

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The Truth About Santa: A Cautionary Tale

I knew this day would come eventually but I never dreamed it would be so heart-wrenching.

You see, my daughter has been dropping hints about her wavering belief in Santa Claus for a several months now. Her questions about the existence of Santa, however, always came when my six year old was nearby so I tended to hedge a lot.

“Let’s talk about this later”

“Can we have this chat another time?”

I didn’t want to lie to her any more than I already have with the whole Santa myth but I also didn’t want to spoil it for my son, who is already fully indoctrinated into the Santa Claus Believers Club.

I figured if she asked me when we were alone, I could be honest with her. But she never did.

And I would assume she’d forgotten about it and exhale, thinking I’d dodged that particular bullet one more time.

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Selling a Car is SO MUCH FUN

OMG…last night these people came to look at a car we’re selling and they TOOK MY KEYS with them. I realized it this morning when I couldn’t find them so I call the guy and I’m like “Hi, you came to look at our car last night. Do you have my keys?” and he’s like “Yes, I have them”

Um…OKAY. So when exactly did you notice that you had the keys to everything I own in your possession? We’re you planning on LETTING ME KNOW? Did it not occur to you that I might NEED THEM???? That I might be tearing my house apart looking for them so I could take my kids to school?

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Tired of Picking Up Socks? What Worked for Me

Of all the brilliant things I’ve put into place in my household, what I’m about to tell you may well be the brilliantest.

I know, I know… It’s hard to imagine anything any more brilliant than Ritz S’mores or the Chore System of Awesomeness but hear me out and then decide for yourself.

Two words.

Three syllables.

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The Stories of Us

For a few years, I documented all sorts of things from my day to day life here…but the most important things I documented were about my children. Everything was new and exciting and there were so many firsts. Like a soda bottle that had been jostled a bit too much, I was always bubbling over with emotions and feelings that I just had to get out.

There are still firsts now, as there always are until we shed these mortal coils, but I no longer feel the urge to share them. Or rather, I can’t seem to collect everything I’m feeling into any kind of order anymore and thus, I rarely even try.

Why is it all so hard now?

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Kids and Their Neverending Wants: Total Ingratitude or Totally Normal?

A friend recently mused over whether his children appreciate what is given to them after his younger child complained of not getting ice cream at the end of a whole day devoted to her and her wishes. This made me think a lot about my own children and whether they appreciate what they have, particularly as we’ve experienced the same type of ingratitude around here, too.

In my estimation, we live a typical middle-class (what’s left of it) life—we can’t afford a lot of luxuries but we are able to have most of the things we want and pretty much anything we really need. It should be noted, though, that my husband and I aren’t particularly materialistic people so our lifestyle may be modest by typical American standards.

Regardless, there are trips to theme parks and family vacations and modern computers and iPads and iPhones and Netflix and cable TV and super-fast fiber optic internet access and health insurance and quality organic food in the fridge and a scooter and two decent cars and big birthday celebrations and dance classes and t-ball and basketball and cheerleading and scouts and way too many Lego sets and several ridiculously expensive American Girl dolls and frequent outings for ice cream and the movies and a Wii and a Nintendo DS and a house full of toys.

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Comment Spam That Makes Me Love Comment Spam

Every now and then, you get some comment spam from someone who seems like they really know you…

“Hey super fun internet person, be my valentine? Just kidding, but you’ve got a spectacular writing style. If you weren’t a figment of my imagination, I’d write you poems and such.

I mean only someone who knows my heart and soul could know that those words? Are just the words I needed to hear. Except for the part where they call me a figment of their imagination.

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