12 Things I Learned This Week, Vol 109

This week I drove over 700 miles to search for sand dollars with my mom and kids, experience the exhilaration of a beach that goes on and on as far as the eye can see, celebrate dear friends’ upcoming weddings and birthdays, and kick off summer in serious style. I could get used to this…

Lesson #1: I have very little sense of humor at 5:03am. Or 5:09am. Or 5:16am. Or for the rest of the day when it started at 5:03am. Or 5:09am. Or 5:16am.

Lesson #2: I might as well capitalize on my children’s sudden lack of interest in sleep. I’m considering starting a Newborn Bootcamp and having pregnant women pay me to practice getting up every two hours.

Lesson #3: While Pink may be needy in the wee hours of the morning, she’s quite independent once she’s up and about. She even changes her own dirty diapers. Not successfully, I’m afraid, but she sure embraces the adage of, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again!”

Lesson #4: The fact that I throw out all of most of my kids’ artwork at the end of the year, but keep all of their writing, may prove that I have a bit of a bias. (Or, perhaps, that they inherited my capabilities — and lack thereof.)

Lesson #5: When you have a conversation like this week one of summer, you can’t help but wonder why you avoided camp-mania.

Big: “Do I have to listen to this weird noise all day?”
Me: “You mean your sister?”
Big: “Yes.”
Me: “Yeah, welcome to summer.”
Big: “‘Summer?’ ‘Bad luck’ is what it should be called.

Lesson #6: When your kid shouts, “I cut the cheese!” in the middle of Crate & Barrel, you have to hope most people within earshot think he’s just testing out their latest cutlery.

Lesson #7: We can learn so much by simply watching other parents when we’re out. For instance, if your kid doesn’t like BBQ potato chips, just have your dog lick off the powder before passing the crunchy goodness to the kid. He’ll never notice. Or will he?

Lesson #8: Pink sings a mean mashup of Twinkle, Twinkle, Wheels on the Bus, and Scream and Shout. We’re now officially taking suggestions for her DJ name.

Lesson #9: While I consider my bathing suit a mechanism to cover up parts of my body, Pink considers it a handle to hoist up parts of hers. Which, it turns out, makes it kind of the opposite of what I was going for.

Lesson #10: Next time we go to the beach, instead of buying into a false sense of security thanks to smiling cartoon faces and the word “diaper” on the outrageously expensive box, I’m going to stuff a tissue in Pink’s bathing suit so I won’t be as surprised and offended when she pees all over me. Time and time again.

Lesson #11: Everything happens for a reason — even Pink face planting in a restaurant. Because if she hadn’t been screaming, I wouldn’t have taken her outside. And if I hadn’t taken her outside, I wouldn’t have spotted her lovey in the bushes. And if I hadn’t spotted her lovey in the bushes, well, I wouldn’t have survived to write this post.

Lesson #12: If the don’t text and drive people decide to extend their campaign to the walkers of the world, I have an idea for an ad. A mom, who’s been lulled into a happy trance thanks to a couple glasses of wine and conversation with some of her favorite people at a shower, realizes she’s left the kids in her (perfectly capable) husband’s hands for far too long, and starts texting to say she’s finally on her way home. (As she wonders how they’ve survived this long without her, of course.) Then, a few words in, she tumbles down the brick staircase, twisting her ankle, bruising her tailbone (yes, again!), and saying a shameful goodbye to her pride. I mean…I don’t know, I’m just brainstorming here. Something like that.

Happy official summer, my friends! May it keep you on your toes, but off your @$$!