Busted

The night before Easter, this guy lost his top tooth--meaning there would be a visit from the Easter Bunny AND the Tooth Fairy. 

No big deal...except his sneaky older sister decided to sleep in his room because she was "soooo excited" about Easter. I didn't think too much of it because I know they love to sleep in the same room on Christmas Eve too. 

So, after the eggs were hidden and the baskets were ready, I crept into Johnny's room with a little plastic egg filled with $10 (yes I know that's outrageous, but that's the smallest bill we had), and a tiny note from the Tooth Fairy. 

But, as I slipped out of the room with the tooth, I hear  Julie: "Mom, what are you doing in here?"

Me: "Ummm. I thought I heard something. Are you guys OK?" 

Julie: "Yup. We're good. Goodnight." 

And that was it. 

No mention of it the next morning. 

So, either she didn't remember, she didn't connect the dots, or more likely, she doesn't want to know the truth, and just wants to live the magic a little bit longer. 

Big spender

This is it.
After saving for months, Johnny spent his hard-earned $26 on something every kid wants----a salt and pepper shaker Fork Man. Appropriately (or more accurately "inappropriately") titled "Forked Up Art." (In my defense, I didn't notice that tag until afterwards.)

This is not exactly how I would choose to spend 26 bucks, but Scott and I have taken the approach that the kids can pretty much spend THEIR money on whatever they like...within reason of course. Ideally this means we don't buy the kids impromptu things like toys or movies or books or Fork Men. If they spend all their money... they just have to save again.

Johnny's usually quite the spender. He's impulsive and usually spends his money immediately...whether it be toys or treats or books. But, once he laid eyes on this Fork Man he was convinced he had to save. Save he did..though the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny allowed him to reach his $26 goal a little quicker.

And, while, we ultimately hope he'll learn some real life money lessons some day, we can't help but smile at how happy this guy was today.

There's always tomorrow

Here's a great way to start off the day.

Shrieking. Screaming. Wailing.

That's Johnny. Like something major is going down.

Run downstairs.

"Julie ate my waffles!!!"

Seriously?

Sternly put Johnny in his place. "You are going to be 7 next month!! You don't act like this. Unacceptable."

More tears. Big time.

He runs to his room.

Then I see this.

Ooops.

He wanted to surprise everyone with this sweet little arrangement. Waffles with syrup dipping sauce and of course chocolate kisses. Big sister comes and scarfs down the waffles he made for "evrbody."

Mean mommy yells at him. Day ruined. Sorry buddy. There's always tomorrow.

Forget me not

Our kids are pretty forgetful.
They can't find their shoes on a daily basis. They leave their coats at their friends' houses and their water bottles at school. I feel like the mornings and nights are filled with constant reminders.
Last Thursday night I reminded Julie twice to put her math homework in her binder. It was due Friday and she would not get credit if it was turned in late.

What did she leave sitting on  her desk on Friday morning?

The homework, of course.

I came very close to not taking it to school for her. I wondered if all these reminders and extra help were enabling the kids' forgetfulness. Maybe it was time to teach a little lesson in responsibility, I thought.

I googled "Should I bring in my child's forgotten homework?" and most responses or blogs I read were in favor of not bringing in the homework and making your child suffer the consequences.
A local friend agreed. "Maybe if it were her lunch or glasses, I would bring them. But not homework."

But I felt guilty. We live 2 minutes from school. Literally. I wasn't busy at all that day. I had no reason not to take the homework other than to teach Julie a lesson. But would she learn? Would it be a good lesson? Or would she think her mom just didn't care?

Then Scott finally texted back. "You should take it. She works so hard," he texted. "Plus we like her :)"

That's when I knew he was right. She's our daughter. Why not show her the love? Why not help her when we can? It's not like I was taking a final exam for her. I was bringing in her homework that she had struggled all week to complete.

If I hadn't taken it, would she have remembered it next time? Maybe. But maybe this time she learned the lesson that she's worth our time and we have her back no matter what.

The more things change...the more they change

I left Baltimore 10 years ago.
A decade.

I remember my hometown so clearly. I lived there for 27 years after all. I remember the shortcuts and side streets. My favorite snowball stand and the restaurant on the corner where we always went to celebrate something special. I remember sledding down our favorite "big hill," trekking through the snow to the pizza restaurant and walking to the swimming pool every day in the summer.

There's so much I can envision and sometimes it feels as if it's still home. I still call it home anyway.

But, recently I've found that I don't quite recognize the place where I grew up. The stores have changed, and so have the restaurants. There are more houses and offices and shopping centers.

When I talk to my friends about Baltimore, (all still live in town) I find that I don't know at all what they're talking about. We met up for a girls trip last weekend. They were incredibly sweet and bought me a plane ticket, and arranged for Scott to take off work to watch the kids. It was an amazing bonding weekend, but whenever talk drifted to Baltimore or Maryland, I found I didn't have a thing to contribute.

They talked about the best restaurants and bars, and fun places to take the kids. I didn't recognize anything they were talking about. It was a realization that my hometown isn't really my hometown anymore. Most likely we won't move back. (We've moved too many times and can't move the kids again.) We've been away so long, that it really isn't home...at least not the way it used to be.

While this makes me sad, I feel grateful to have grown up in such a diverse area with a wonderful family and amazing friends who I still see every so often. We made some great memories, and that's how I'll remember my town.