“How do you celebrate Valentine’s Day?” a new friend asked me recently. We traded rituals and I silently celebrated finding a kindred spirit when she confessed she too never woke up early to make pink pancakes or cut her kids’ sandwiches into heart shapes. Further, our resident Elves on Shelves also strictly move from tree to mantle and back again (we made a mental note to have our boys hang out more next December so they don’t accrue higher expectations from friends with more creative parents).
No, for my kids, I do some sweets and simple cards (this year homemade as I couldn’t justify $12 in cards when 3/4 of my kids are not yet literate).
But one tradition I do stand by, particularly for those of us celebrating with someone decidedly difficult to buy for, is the “Day of Dave.” For almost 15 years now, I have “gifted” Dave the promise of one day that is specifically about what he wants to do. On these days, we may eat an enormous batch of homemade crepes for breakfast. We may finally watch the show he’s convinced I would like if I just gave it a chance (and I then save my honest reviews for the following morning). We may visit Costco to purchase our first “big kid” TV after our first years as newlyweds with a big, boxy, low resolution hand-me-down and its faulty remote. We may bring our kids to celebrate (2021), or we may develop better judgment and leave them at home (2022).
For any of you looking for last-minute gifts for your significant other (romantic or otherwise!), it’s not too late to gift them a day of choose-your-own-indulgence. You heard it here first.
Related: another love hack: when a lousy roommate might save your marriage // overheard: things I need to communicate to my husband
- Someone documented my dad’s mental flow chart with respect to the thermostat during winter months.
- Gen Z speak. Didn’t expect to watch the entirety of this bit, and yet… learned a lot. Periodt.
- How amazing (& harrowing) is this sailing event?? Track the race live here.
- Google translate “how to pronounce” – from written to verbal, including live practice!
PS for those of you who have kindly checked in on us subsequent to this week’s stomach bug, we seem to have held the line at 4/6. Morale remained relatively high despite some tough love.
Me: J, I’m going to set up O in my bathroom for the afternoon. If you feel anything from your stomach, please head to the bathroom right away.
J: okay, Mom. But it’s okay if I don’t make it to the potty, right?
Me, having just changed over the 9th load of laundry that single day: …no, Honey, it’s really not anymore.
Will we deplete our bleach supply before the day is over?? Will Mom survive to take care of everyone just long enough to then spend the weekend with her head in a toilet?? Will we ever be brave enough to have the boys rest on soft seating again?!
Stay tuned.
Related: at least I didn’t leave the laundry outside overnight this time? // many things that may happen before 9am.
You’ll never hear strings of expletives before 7:03am quite like the ones muttered from our kitchen counter as Dave & I race the many other parents enrolling their children in limited-capacity summer camp programs on the frigid February morning registration opens promptly at 7.
We entered at least one of our sons’ birthday wrong, accidentally dual-enrolled another, and may have to walk back a few key terms they collectively heard over their morning toast… but summer 2023, we are (partially – at least, on the weeks we’re not wait-listed) ready for you!
Related: 6am fail // last year’s summer camp – a resounding success.
The happiest day in my dog’s life may have been today, when he realized the extent to which C, from his vertical advantage in his high chair, tosses full portions of food on the floor during dinner.
The happiest day of my month may have been today, when I realized during post-bedtime kitchen clean-up how effective Tugboat Fuzzy Dumptruck is at running point on preclean.
Related: but if we’re a team, then Ms. Laurie is MVP // overheard: “Mom! I can’t find my shoe!”
THE “INSIDE THE BRAIN OF OUR THREE YEAR OLD” EDITION
*****
A, upon turning 3 years old: Mommy? I’m a big boy now, so can I drive a firetruck now?
*****
A, apropos of absolutely nothing: Mom? I don’t see a pink garbage truck, Mom.
Me, looking around the kitchen: oh. Huh, yeah, me neither.
A, dejectedly: aww.
*****
“Hi Kel, it’s Jen from [daycare]. Just wanted to call and give you a heads up that A ate some chalk when he was playing outside. When his teacher went over to try to get it out of his mouth, he swallowed it. We’re giving him some liquid and he seems to be okay but he did… consume some chalk.”
*****
A: I want to call Gigi!
Dave: you want to call Gigi? Are you even done pooping yet though?
*****
A, after stubbing his toe: I hurt my… my… my foot thumb!
*****
A, contemplatively: mmm… which fork should I pick? This one will do.
*****
A: Daddy, you’re so big, like Mom! But Mom is a girl. Because Mom doesn’t have a penis anymore.
*****
A last week, when awoken in a 2am fit of anger: ugh! I just want someone to turn me into a dinosaur!
*****
Today in the living room, which is completely void of other company or noise; just the two of us:
A: Mom?
Me: *sipping a drink, turns to look directly at him*
A: Mom?
Me: *lowers drink, pointedly staring at him*
A: Mom?
Me: *continues staring, now smirking as I’m committed to see how far this will go, nods to offer every non-verbal cue that he has my attention*
A: …Mom?
Me: *sighs* yes, A?
A: Mom? I think maybe we should watch Frosty the Snowman again.
*****
Related: overheard on a road trip with A // overheard and in the bathroom.
I’ve been absent the last few weeks, determined to neglect my laptop during my time off work over the holidays. By now, there are too many stories to rehash, so by way of a desire to recap, here are a handful of highlights:
- 1. As testament to the contagious enthusiasm of his vocal stylings, A sang “I am a Pizza” so many times over his McDonald’s lunch that a table of 3 adult men good-naturedly joined in on the song as we exited.
- 2. I celebrated my 1,000th Peloton ride. It’s arbitrary in the scheme of things, but was fun to mark the occasion with a few people
crazysupportive enough to set their alarms on a Saturday morning to do a 75 minute endurance live ride. - 3. J, O, and I burnt the entirety of our arcade card balances on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle game one afternoon. It was a total nail-biter at the end with HP and credits running low, but we defeated all the bosses, triumphed over Shredder himself, and then spent our tickets on Pop Rocks and Fun Dip. I don’t normally buy myself in when we play, but I am so glad I was part of this epic victory. On the other hand, J required my help buckling his seat in the car afterwards as he was despondent — convinced that his arm was broken from all the button smashing.
- 4. A bowled his first strike! That same game, O’s slow rolling finally caught up with him and we had to ask for help when his ball managed to stall entirely two thirds down the lane. Fortunately neither boy is terribly invested in competition yet, so they both remained sportsmanly.
- 5. Our neighbors invited J and me over for a midday play date (O invited himself along) with a few other friends. The host joked that she pumps “casino air” into the basement so the boys can remain down there for hours. While they played, one of the moms remarked that between us 4, we have fourteen boys. Naturally, the couple of hours trading stories are intensely reassuring to my sense of whether my home’s state of “ambient chaos” is normal.
- 6. I sent the ping below to Dave when we were (again) spending the better part of an afternoon at the library. What can I say? I’m a woman of simple taste.
- 7. Our 2023 New Year celebration consisted of 3 memorable (& largely “on brand”) moments:
7a. We attended a NYE bash at the library, counting down to noon with crafts, music, and dancing. Visiting my elderly neighbor that evening, she had the local news playing in the background and I spotted my sons’ TV debuts.
7b. We “counted down” to what ended up being 6:53pm ET with a recording of the Sydney fireworks. We cheers’d with Propel, sparking juice, water, and champagne. Our “please be careful not to spill!” warning was effective for precisely the amount of time it took for O to excitedly take his cup, stand up off the couch, and slosh the cider over onto the fabric.
7c. A quiet moment of reflection and gratitude with Dave after the boys were asleep.
Happy new year. May 2023 bring more of what lights you up, particularly if it involves springing for an arcade card for yourself.
Closing out 2022 roasting marshmallows in matching jammies. Pretty sure this is what the kids today call “wildin’.” 
Splitting a pitcher of root beer at the bowling alley. Cheers! 
Low on design standards, but high on utilization of resources (which is to say, the boys ate all of the decor over the course of the following 48 hours) 
Wisdom a la the nearby ice cream shop (yes, we do post-dinner ice cream even in December). 
14 boys between us, and a pact to invite each other out to “girly” events if we ever get a craving. 
Not only is this a legitimate conversation, but the AI suggested responses are on point. 
Something for everyone on New Year’s Eve. 
Cowabunga, dude. 
My sweet boy and his Tugboat Fuzzy Dumptruck.
Related: more family Ninja Turtling // ride #600: 18 months and 1 baby ago.
“what should we name him??”
a family compromise.
no one cedes an inch.
