Friday, April 4, 2008
I always liked parenting from the second floor of the house. Knowing I was never going to be a kid amongst the kids, I made 4 of them so they could play with each other. There was also the issue of being an older mother and trusting that they'd be there for each other way longer than I would be around. Add a bunch a friends, a cat, a dog and I was a bit like Waldo. If you searched you could find me but most of the time Waldo being missing isn't noticed. Tonight John came home and he, Peter, the dog and the cat are chilling out downstairs. On Monday, David is coming home for a few days. The books all talk about quality time. There are a lot of working mothers who take their sons to the arena and then to Tim Horton's for breakfast as the very top priority of the day. I've got to take my hat off to them. One season of football freezing my buns off and thinking the most wonderful thing in the universe would be a hot cup of anything to warm up my fingers arounded, ended my less than stellar career as a sports fan. All of the other mothers seemed to know which bleacher went with which team and what direction the kids should be heading in and when to yell at them and when to stand up and cheer. It must be really annoying to the good moms that those of us who parented from the second floor have kids that seek us out.