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On Father’s Day, The Daddy wanted to sit on his butt all day in front of the TV, watch the Lakers and the Celtics and, oh, I don’t know, probably scratch, fart and pick his nose. We will never know because we were banished upstairs to have a “Chickfest”. I completely understood, although I wasn’t really too happy about being “banished” but we headed upstairs to spend the day away from Daddy but close enough that he could visit if he felt guilty. Or lonely. Or whatever.

It was clear that we would need a Chickfest structure of some sort and, although my fort-building skills are formidable, this needed to be special. I realized that we had a Beach Cabana from One Step Ahead in the garage that we had bought last summer planning to use for the beach. The Tot never sat still at the beach so it was useless. But not that day! I ran down to the garage, ran back up stairs and popped that sucker open in our master bedroom. Voila! Instant “Chicktent” for our Chickfest. Add a Dora quilt, a few hot pink pillows of various shapes and sizes, stuffed animals, and we were ready! We read books, gave manicures and pedicures (sneaky way to file The Tot’s nails without her suspecting that it is something she should hate), and played with stuffed animals and Dora dolls. We went outside on the patio, ran errands and generally spent a nice day together. I think The Daddy got a little jealous when he came up to check on us and saw the set up we had up there but it was too late at that point. The Chickfest was well underway and boys just weren’t allowed. Since Father’s Day, we’ve had quite a few Chickfests and the cabana has been a staple for our beach days. She is much more likely to sit in the “Chicktent” this year than last although she still runs like a banshee at the beach most of the time. She will sit in it to eat lunch and play with whatever character dolls she has insisted on ruining by dragging them to the beach and through the sand. And she will do this all because Daddy wanted a little “Daddy Time” on Father’s Day. Thank you, Daddy!

I just finished reading Samara O’Shea’s new book Note to Self: On Keeping a Journal and Other Dangerous Pursuits and I have to say that she is brave. Not only does she confidently and easily share her journaling process, she shares much, much more than I would ever feel comfortable. Then again, I am fairly neurotic and she most likely isn’t so that may explain it. She gives the reader a glimpse into her world at varying ages and does so eloquently, even in her younger entries. It was very easy to connect with her different “selves” and see similarities (and differences) between her experience and mine. Her writing style is casual and entertaining, very easy to read.

As a result of reading Note to Self: On Keeping a Journal and Other Dangerous Pursuits I have been inspired to journal more. I am one of those “sporadic, dated” journalist/diarists who will often forget about my journal whilst keeping busy with other things (can you tell by my sporadic blogging?). Then something sticks in my craw and I have to hunt it down and have a marathon gripe/processing session, writing until my hand cramps or Tater Tot is begging for my attention, or my coffee has run out. Samara poses several interesting questions as prompts to journaling and I have used them over the past couple of days. It has been freeing to just write whatever comes to mind as she suggests. No judgment, no audience but me. Although her musing over who will read her journals in posterity flies right past me. My journals usually find a blazing end in our attractive fire pit on our patio because I like to keep my crazy to myself (most of the time anyway). A hearty recommendation for the casual or avid journaler.

With the larger economy being what it is and the personal economy of this stay-at-home Mommy being what it is, I am always on the look out for free things to do. Especially during the summer. I don’t know why because Tater Tot is only 2 1/2 but it just feels like summer should be packed with fun stuff to do! I understand why the Mommies with kiddos that are school aged pack their summer days with fun stuff but I’m still not sure why I feel the need. Oh well. I digress.

Friday night I decided that I wanted to go to the Concert in the Park series that my city puts on. I guess I had thought about it before, I’m not really sure. But there it was, looming large like a pimple on the end of your nose on prom night, the desire to go out into a throng of other families and listen to Afro-Cuban jazz and dance with my tiny tot. The Daddy did not want to go. Tater Tot decided that it might be fun so we headed out on our own while Daddy enjoyed some “Daddy time”. We left in time to get to the park on time, not realizing that this was a big deal. I mean, I guess I thought some people might show up but Good Lord! The entire baseball outfield was packed with families and their blankets, coolers, tables, chairs, picnic baskets, bikes, wagons, balls and toys. Some of the set-ups were pretty darned impressive! People made elaborate meals and ate them with wine while relaxing in reclining lawn chairs. Others carted their pizza boxes and coolers of beer and ate them while throwing a football. It was clear that people put much more thought into their outing than I had. We were armed with Dora and Boots dolls, flip flops, and my keys. Which ended up being okay since Tater Tot wanted to stand right by the stage and stare at the lights anyway.

We had a fantastic time! I think it helped that I did not have an agenda. Most things go more smoothly when you drop your expectations and just go with the flow, I’m finding. Life just ends up being more enjoyable. So that’s what we did. We bopped and grooved for a bit, walked around the baseball field for a bit, and just took in the sights. When a song ended, I could count on hearing a forceful “Do n’ again!” from The Tater Tot that got a little lost in the cacophony of sounds surrounding us. But still she yelled it, expecting that the band would listen to her and continue. And for a while, they did.

If you have such a program in your city, I would highly recommend it. It struck me that the picture I saw was exactly what summer should be all about: families, friends and relaxation. We will be doing it again this week. And, this time we’re bringing dinner and some friends…

One day after a particularly stinky Tater Tot “toot”, I said something to the effect of “We’d better run away from the stink.” Thus was born the grossest thing my little sweet baby has ever said. “Stay in the stink!” she shouts. “Want to stay in the stink!” Now every time I comment on her stinky toots I get to hear my precious angel yell “Stay in the stink!” That’s my girl… :*

Let me start by saying that I think that Tater Tot has a full grasp of how to drink out of a “reg’lar cup” as we call them around here. I really think she does. That being said, she has managed to spill some sort of liquid from said cups just about every meal for months. Juice, milk, water, it doesn’t matter. It’s usually when I have finished my meal and have gotten up to clean dishes or tidy the kitchen. She is right there. I am right there. There is no more than 15 feet between us and yet she feels the need to get my attention by playing with her cup and spilling stuff all over the place. Sticks her hands in them, makes “cup houses”, bangs them on the table while full of liquid, puts her utensils in them. Whatever it takes to make the spill happen, really. She’s willing to go the distance.

I don’t know if this is the way most mommies feel about it but it’s just plain irritating to me. I try to modulate my reaction so that I don’t make it a big deal. It’s only water/milk/juice anyway. And there is a good chance that she’s doing it on purpose to get my reaction so I bite my tongue, slap a happy face on it and sweetly say “Oops! Let’s clean it up now.” If I could sit still to save my life I might try staying at the table with her until she’s done with her meal to test my theory that she’s trying to get my attention. I’m not sure that’s possible, though, seeing as she takes 40 minutes to eat and I tend to pop up like a gopher out of its hole after 2 minutes of sitting still (what’s that about??). Of course she’s not “on task” that whole time. She takes breaks to wave her utensils around and play with her food but, still. Hey! Smart Mommy here just had an idea: I wonder if she’d stay on task and eat faster if I stayed at the table. It’s worth a try, anyway. What do I have to lose?

Up next: pick your battles.

Okay, maybe I’m being a little picky here but on what planet is it okay to let your child loose at a free kids’ event, chat away with another Mommy gripping your Starbuck’s for dear life while ignoring your child’s bad behavior with other kids? Uh, not on my planet. Princess Tater Tot and I went to one such event this week where the main activity was building your own train track with all the cool configurations the local toy store had. They dumped buckets full of tracks onto a carpet in the middle of the floor and let ‘em have at it. In theory, I guess this could work except that kids are kids. There were three parents in the middle with the kids, yours truly among them, and about 25 kids. Needless to say there were multiple meltdowns and more than one parent frantically negotiating with a kid they had never met before to keep two kids from coming to 2-5 year old blows.

All in all it went pretty well, considering. But one child in particular was so clearly sans parent that it really began to bug me. That was probably due to the fact that he almost took Tater Tot’s hand off trying to snatch a bridge away from her on which she was happily rolling her borrowed Thomas. “That’s my bridge!” he shrieks. “Oh, is it okay if she plays with her train on it? I see you built a really great track here. Can you share it?” I begin negotiations with. “NO! I BUILT THIS TRACK!” Okay, I guess that would be a the end of negotiations. I understand that kids are kids and most of them don’t naturally want to share but this would have been the point at which I, as a parent, would have stepped in and said kindly that he needed to share or tried some other negotiating tactic that allowed him to keep his dignity and pride at having built such an awesome track but did not frighten the young children around him. At another point soon afterward, he snatched a train out of Tater Tot’s hand. That’s where I got more firm and stated in no uncertain terms that you do not take toys from other girls and boys. You ask first. I took the train back from him and gave it back to Tater Tot even though she had easily moved onto something else. So instead he tried to snatch yet another train from some other kid even though he already had one train. Luckily another adult stepped in and handled that one with equal firmness. Where is this kid’s parent again?

I don’t think there are any bad kids. I really don’t. And I don’t think that the parents of misbehaving kids are necessarily bad parents. Kids misbehave. They are learning how to behave with other people. That’s part of their job. But it is the job of the parents to teach them good behavior and this kid’s parent was just falling down on the job. Nobody even looked interested in what this kid was doing. I just can’t imagine…

Okay, I’ll get off my soap box now.