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Monthly Archives: October 2011

Central Park and bags of chips

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This morning before school, Jenn announced sadly, “I miss New York City. I like it best.”

Though I wholeheartedly agree with her, I asked her why she missed New York, as if that were the craziest notion in the world.

Jenn:  Because I really, really like playing in Central Park.

As always, trying not to cry, I point out that I miss Central Park, too, but that it will be there when we go back to New York. We chatted a little about the Balto statue, the candied peanuts that cost $3 in the park but only $1 on 73rd Street and playing on “her” rock. And because she’s four, she moved on.

Until dinner. She again mentioned that she missed New York.

Again, I acted surprised:  Oh?

She continued:  Yes. I want to go to J and C’s house.  And I want to eat those little bags of chips that they have in the garage. I want to eat bags and bags…

So a Costco trip is in my future, because I can’t deliver Balto or our NY babysitter or our friends or the other things we miss, but I can certainly stick some little bags of Cheetos in the garage for the kids to sneak, for a while. Maybe some Doritos, too.

Filed under Cleveland, Moving, NYC
Oct 10, 2011

Want to take a parenting class with me?

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In 20 -ish years of post-college life, I have been busy hiring others to help me improve at my various pursuits. I have taken writing classes (to improve my writing), Spanish classes (to improve my Spanish), running classes (to improve my running) and swimming classes (to improve my swimming). I have hired a triathlon coach and a swimming coach. I have hired someone to clean my apartment, mow my lawn, train my dog (to no avail) and help watch my kids.

Clearly I have no problem seeking outside help. Yet I dragged my feet (and was faced with some eye rolls from friends) when given the opportunity to take a parenting class. Why are we supposed to have some innate parenting knack? Because lame or not, I do not have that knack.

“You’re a great parent,” one said. Then why did I almost bite off my lip this morning to keep from screaming, I wondered. And why does my 5-year old son count to three to get my 4-year old daughter to do something? (Which would be funny if it weren’t so awful.)

A swim coach helped quicken my race times. Perhaps this parenting class will help me quicken my kids’ response times, or lower the time it takes me to erupt. And since I don’t really have any friends  here yet, maybe I’ll find one who isn’t a total whackadoodle at class. I’m almost assured, however, of another blog post.

First class is tonight at 7. I’m cautiously optimistic.

 

Oct 4, 2011

What you’ve missed