Things I Don't Miss About My Children's Childhood

Hello dear friends.  This week has just whipped by.  I wish I could tell you that I did lots of important things, but I can't.  

If you're wondering what kind of hair style I had, you're in good company.
I am too.


Every once in awhile, I will spot two little girls, about 2 years apart, dressed in identical dresses with gigantic colorful bows in their hair.  Before I can control it, I get a lump in my throat.  I can't help but think of how much I pine for those days with my girls.  There are so many things that I miss about their childhood.  I loved everything about their babyhood - the sweet smell of them, their babbling, giggling and their angelic faces as they slept.  And I enjoyed almost every minute of their growing years; everything from watching them learn to walk to years later, snuggling on the couch with me watching Gilmore Girls.

When I become melancholy, I immediately try to remind myself of the things in the girls' childhood that I don't miss so much.

For instance, I remember the first Mommy and Me class that my #1 and I attended.  I was so excited to meet the other moms and to give my girl an opportunity to interact with other babies.  

Our first class was a little daunting, to say the least.  Every mom knew every word and hand signal to every song.  They sang with gusto, as if it were a competition of who could be the most animated.  It felt like I was either in a cult or got trapped in a scene from Stepford Wives.

My little traitor

The teacher was bubbling over with excitement.  At one point, I thought that she was going to foam at the mouth. My #1 was positively mesmerized by her.  Before I knew it, my little traitor darling #1 was on her knees crawling over to Miss Perky and settling right into her lap.  I spent that class, and every class thereafter, singing my heart out to "head, shoulders, knees and toes" solo with all the vim and vigor I could muster.  I tried my best to get my #1 back in my clutches.  It never worked.  She wouldn't even look in my direction.  I resigned myself to being a solo act for the remainder of the session.  The new Moms would occasionally ask me if I came by myself.  I just snarled my answer.   

Another thing that I don't miss is the almighty classroom party.  I remember one particular class Room Mom in first grade that asked me to bring an entire turkey for the Thanksgiving Feast which was to be served at 9:25am, the day before the holiday.  Lucky, the Mister knew how to cook a turkey because I was at a loss.  

So I brought in the perfectly garnished turkey, thanks to the Mister,  which the Room Mom decided to carve with a plastic knife.  I was instructed not to bring it carved because I was told the children should see it when it looks so pretty.  And naturally, no carving knives were allowed, which was fortunate for the room mom, because I would have used it on her.

Meanwhile, another Mom brought in a couple of packages of Oscar Mayer sliced turkey.  The children, including my own, were in a line which circled around the room to snag a slice of her hard work and labor of opening the package.  Meanwhile, I glared at the Moms assigned to bring plastic forks and paper cups.

By the time #2 was in school, I told the room mom that I would be responsible for paper napkins for every party.  She gave me a knowing look as if to say "this ain't your first rodeo."  

Having girls in middle school is no picnic either.  This is the beginning of drama.  I consider it Real Housewives training camp. 

It's a tender time because I hated to see my daughter hurt, and yet I was not naive enough to think my kid was perfect.  Now this brings in another aspect of the miserable middle school years.  The mothers are as bad as the kids.  The Moms that I would unwillingly be dealing with were the "Not My Kid" Moms.  It was never their kid's fault. 

I remember another situation from those tumultuous middle school years that again involves my #1.  It could be that I remember more horror stories concerning #1 because I became seasoned by the time it was #2's turn.  

My #1 and her "friend" were going to be in the no talent competition at school.  They had practiced doing a dance and song routine that not even a mother could love.  I would watch them with a fake smile on my face secretly hoping that the show would be cancelled and the family name would stay in good standing.

  

The night before the no talent show, a blood-curdling scream came from upstairs.  I thought #1 was being held at gunpoint.  I ran up the stairs and #1 could barely get control of herself.  Finally she spit out "Susie* doesn't want to be in the talent show with me anymore."  Susie decided to take her act solo.

For a minute, I do admit to letting out a sigh of relief.  My kid wasn't going to shame the family name, after all!  But then I looked at her streaked cheeks and red eyes and my heart sunk.  I decided not to call the kid's mother because deep down I thought things would straighten out. I also was a strong believer that parents should butt out of girl fights.

Well guess what.  Susie did take her act solo and my #1 sat in the audience with a big fat frown on her face.  By the way, I may be just a bit biased, but I have to say my girl couldn't sing or dance to save her life, but Susie was even worse.  I later heard that after the performance, Susie's family was looking into changing their name and joining the Witness Protection Program.

I saw Susie's mom at the big show.  She came up to me sheepishly and she said that it was too bad the girls couldn't work things out, but Susie felt that my #1 did not practice enough.

I had two words for her and it wasn't happy birthday.
   
*Susie's name has been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

So, when I start to feel sorry for myself and miss my little girls, I remind myself of these stories and a few others.

I still miss the bows, though.

Is there anything that you don't miss?

Until next time...

A Touch of France in Hingham

Hello dear friends.  I hope everyone is having a good week.  It is so great to see the flowers bloom and the trees begin to reclaim their leaves.  I have two lilac trees right outside of my kitchen  and I am waiting impatiently for them to pop with color.  When they do, you will see lots of photos because they don't bloom for very long.

The original Talbots

As you know, I am taking needlepoint lessons.  If you missed it, and want to risk being bored to tears by my lack of needle craft skills, you can find it here.  As I told you, the shop is in the heart of a darling town named Hingham.  It is the home of the first Talbots store and is chock full of great boutiques and eateries.

One of my favorite shops is called  La Petite Maison.  I could browse in this delicious taste of France for hours on end.  

French music sets the mood for shopping.

Wish they had this lobstah sweatah in my size.

Maybe my next needle craft will be knitting!

Next time I need a baby gift, I am heading here.

Beautiful bed linens.

Love the dog pillow!

Hostess gifts galore! 

This is Nan, the lovely owner of the shop. 

I picked this up for my kitchen.  
There was no way that I could leave that gorgeous shop empty handed!

Next time you are on the South Shore, stop by La Petite Maison and say bonjour!

Until next time...

My Birthday & Happy News

Hello dear friends.  I hope that everyone enjoyed their weekend.  Mine was better than good - it was great for two reasons.

Sunday was my birthday.  I am officially in my late 50's and headed to the next decade with volume speed.  I continuously stare the next decade down with the ugliest stink I can muster.

The Mister planned the day.  After doing research, he decided to take me to a part of Cape Cod that we haven't been.  He said he wanted to make it a blog worthy day.  He's learning.

We went to Mashpee, which is nestled in the western portion of the Cape.  It is about 6 miles southeast of the Cape.   

  

That's it for the geography lesson.  
As a point of interest,  Rachel Ray was born and raised in Mashpee.

We arrived at a beautiful outdoor mall.  It encased some of my favorite stores.

This Mister even made reservations at  a restaurant called  Estia.  I positively adore Greek food and it was quite good.

We spent some time walking around Pottery Barn and looking at all the summer table ware.

I bought a couple of pairs of shoes.

And the Mister bought some spices and olive oil to add to the pantry. 

Love this home accessory shop.

I did a lot of ooohing and aahing  in this MacKenzie Childs shop.  My buddy Kate the Great sent me the prettiest MC bangle for my birthday. 

Don't drool too much.  
These are for doggies.

And as if I didn't have enough excitement for the day, we hit a Marshall's and a Homegoods on the way home!

But the cherry on my birthday sundae happened when I got home.  I talked to one of my nearest and dearest, Susie B.  Do you remember Susie?  She is the one who went to a party at the Kennedy Compound and wrote a fabulous blog about it.  

Anyway, Susie is the absolute greatest girl and for as long as I have known her, which is all of her life,  I have never seen her without a smile.  Well, Susie broke the news that she is engaged!  She has never been married and she met the love of her life, Mike, a couple of years ago.  I couldn't be happier!  What a great birthday present.

A perfect blog worthy day and wonderful wedding news!
Life is good in Preppy Empty Nesterville!

Until next time...