San Francisco Treat

You know it has been awhile since you cleaned out your cabinets when you find something in them that EXPIRED in 1997.

When I was unpacking groceries on Saturday, I noticed a dusty box of Rice A Roni behind the cereal. When I took it out, I was appalled to see that it had expired nine years ago. Which means it has probably been sitting around for ten or eleven. Which is a long time. A VERY long time. Ten years ago, Clinton was president. The Internet han't boomed yet. I wasn't even dating my husband. And now we have a mortgage, wothless Internet stocks, two kids and a lot of anxiety about kindergarten.

I'm very conflicted about how much I want to pride myself on my housekeeping skills. I mean, I don't want to view myself as some sort of fifties stereotype who is fulfilled by spending my days vacuuming the house, cooking dinner and fixing a drink for my husband at the end of it. At the same time, this is sort of my job right now so I'd like to do it well. And, yes, have I mentioned I'm a little compulsive? I realize that old rice isn't exactly a health hazard but still, I'm kind of uncomfortable with what it implies about how clean we are. Not only do we apparently go entire decades without cleaning out, but the worst part is that we moved in 2001, and somehow we still managed to pack it up from the old house and unpack it in the new.....

So being the compulsive person that I am, I thought about cleaning out some more. But I was afraid of what else I might find.

Big Girl

Ok, it won't come as a surprise to anyone who knows me if I say that I'm more than a teeny bit anal. I had a color-coded timeline for the week before our wedding for family members and wedding participants. I do packing lists for our family before each trip in Excel (and save them all). And I carry around a little spiral notebook that contains lists of things I need to do (long and short term), groceries we need and clothing that the kids need. Each night I pick up (and sort) all of the kids' toys.

So you'll understand why it bothers me so much when my kids don't snap into line and follow the perfect structure of the lives that I've planned for them. Sometimes I have trouble letting them do their own thing. And lately that's all Mia wants to do....

Lately she doesn't want to lie down to change her diaper. She resists a lot of the clothing I pick out for her to wear. And today she had a complete meltdown because I tried to peel her Clementine for her.

Last week my friend (who has three daughters) said that sometimes she just lets the girls do whatever they want to do, because she doesn't want them to be on such a tight leash that they have to stage a huge rebellion when they reach adolescence.

I thought a lot about this.

So I've started asking Mia "where" she wants to change her diaper. She'll usually go ahead and do it if she gets to choose the place. I drew the line at the bathtub, otherwise we've been experimenting all over the house. I'm letting her pick her own outfits (although she keeps going for these ugly, ugly, ugly purple cords from Old Navy). And today I gave into the possibility of a big sticky pulpy mess in the back seat and let her peel the Clementine.

And she showed me up. It was perfectly, daintily peeled.... each piece of peel handed personally to me in the front seat, instead of deposited on the floor for posterity. And hopefully we'll still be speaking when she hits high school.

Television

When Miles was very small I was adamant that he not watch television. I didn't want him to get used to passive entertainment that would diminish his imaginative ability. When we interviewed nannies, I was very firm that he not see any TV during the day (and I know for a fact that his sitter never showed him any - she couldn't figure out our Tivo).

But then Mia was born.

And I started thinking that a teensy bit of TV might not be so bad.

But he wasn't interested. Now that I so desperately need a little break, he just won't watch it. TV doesn't have anything to compare with pretending to be on a plane to Hawaii. Or dumping your legos. Or pushing your little sister. We've had the odd twenty minutes of Elmo's world, and once or twice he's watched the 30 minute "Grinch Who Stole Christmas" all the way through. But that's it.

And then last night, he actually sat on the couch and watched an entire episode of Seasame Street. The WHOLE thing. Sure, Mia was still running around like a crazy person, but I actually managed to clean up from dinner, pick up the toys and put Mia into her pajamas in relative peace.

Wow. Thank god for the electronic babysitter!

How To Get Your Husband to Do Housework

I've cracked the nut on getting Mike to do stuff around the house.... A couple of weeks ago I left him alone with the kids all day Saturday while I did co-op stuff. The plan was that on Sunday I'd watch them while he fixed some things around the house. Apparently they wore him down so badly that he was down in the basement at 8:30 on Sunday morning, avoiding them.

So now whenever I want him to do something, I just arrange a little "quality time" with Miles and Mia....

Why We Got in a Fight About the Party

Here's why Mike and I got into a ripping big fight before the party last Friday. He said he'd be home at 6, so I had a sitter coming at 6:30 figuring that we'd be at the party before 7. (It was kind of a baby showery thing and was supposed to go from 6 until 9).

The babysitter arrived on schedule but there was no sign of Mike. So I called him. And called and called and called. But he never picked up the phone. So I called my friend Julie to see if she could give me a ride to the party. She was already there....

Not knowing whether Mike was on the way home or stuck at work at a meeting, I called a cab. I figured he could meet me there and we could drive home together. (Oh, I forgot to mention that it is impossible to park in this neighborhood....)

So wouldn't you know it that Mike called right after I'd booked the cab. He had just started home (it was 6:45). When I told him that I didn't believe there was anyone so important in the world that they wouldn't understand that you had to duck out of a meeting for five minutes to call your wife to tell her to go ahead and leave and not wait. I could have BEEN at the party by then!

"It's just a party," he said. No, not just a party. A lifeline. When you've been at home with the kids all week and spent a lot of time picking up toys, and picking up toys, and picking up toys without an adult to talk to.... party is life. He may be working hard, but all those lunches, dinners, even GOLFING... I have to believe there's some interesting adult conversation happening at least part of the time. Enough, at least, that you forget your wife is waiting at home....

Treading Water

Sometimes I feel like I can never catch up. There's always something. The kids have suddenly outgrown all their clothes. There's a bill from the hospital that for some inexplicable reason insurance hasn't paid. And you have to sit on hold for an hour. There's a birthday party for which we need to buy a gift. Or Miles has pnemonia or an ear infection and we have to go to the pediatrician and then wait for our perscription at Walgreens. And there's work for our co-op and a mountain of laundry that needs to be folded. And we're out of milk again, or bread or all the bananas are mushy. Not to mention that every day I need to cook for the kids, do the dishes, take out the trash and pick up enough toys that it doesn't look like a bomb went off in our living room.

I know other mothers who always look fabulous. Who have great nails. And trendy clothes. Jeans that fit and white t-shirts that don't have stains under the armpits. I know some who actually have regular workouts. I know other well-read mothers who read A Million Little Pieces back when it was still non-fiction. I know mothers who actually go out to dinner with friends. And say "I love you" on the phone whenever they talk to their husbands. And ones who have time for hobbies and actually knit hats for all their friends new babies. And actually made by hand 29 valentines with their kid to take to school. Oh yeah, and some have jobs too and still manage to take their kids to Music Together and the pediatrician. So I'm just wondering how they do it?

Last Friday night I went to a party (which caused a big fight with Mike that is a whole other story) and two of my friends asked me if I was still writing fiction. And I had to laugh. Because, me, I'm just trying to keep my head above water.