Sunday, June 26, 2011


Thursday night I had to run to the store to get some last-minute goodies for Sam's birthday party. Not too long after I got home, there was a knock at the door. This was odd. Mostly because (A.) Nobody ever comes to my door, and (B.) It was 9:30 at night. I was even more surprised when two policemen were waiting to question me about the hysterical little girl my neighbor saw wandering up and down the street from what looked like an unoccupied home.

Wow. Charly heard me leave, started bawling her eyes out (not unusual), got up, went outside, walked up and down the streets looking for me (very unusual), all why Jon and others snoozed in the house (totally normal).

"Let me go check and see if she's here." Yes. Charly was asleep in her bed.
"My husband has been here the whole time." Translate: No, I don't leave my kids unattended EVER, however tempting that may be. Also Translate: I will go yell at my husband immediately.

After asking me my full name, date of birth, driver's license number, fingerprinting me, and getting a DNA sample, they left. Translate: They just asked me my name and birthdate, but still. Child welfare police on my door? Charly, you're makin' me look bad!

But, my conversation with Jonny really went like this: "So...two police came over because Charly was wandering around outside. Did you hear her leave the house?"

" But she was hysterical when you left...and I think I heard her come back in." Translation: I wasn't curious enough to find out what she'd been doing OUTSIDE at 9:00 at night.

Luckily, Pullman's a safe town. And I love my husband.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Choosing Your Battles

Every child has "their thing." And every child invites you onto a new battlefield with new weapons and rules you haven't yet learned. As a parent, you can choose to fight the really important ones that involve safety and damage to property.

Sometimes we find ourselves fighting battles that we realize later aren't that important. Do we keep fighting or pull back?

For example: when your two year old boy morphs into an unrecognizable heap of flailing flesh, tears, screams, and super-human strength because he'd rather sit in his sister's old pink booster seat instead of the cool new black and orange one you bought him for fight him on it, then realize that you don't really care. Now we're both happy, and Felix thinks he's getting away with something sneaky every time he climbs into Sammy's old seat. Now we both have something to grin about.

Then, when his favorite hobby becomes changing his clothes, you're just glad when he learns to take off his own shirts, making your help unnecessary and obselete. Again, we're both happy.

It's 7:44 in the morning and already we're on shirt #5 and pants #3.

It's gonna be a great day.