Sunday, March 29, 2009

move back four

Sorry. This is one of Twin B’s favorite games. Yesterday while Llama Papa took the toddler and Twin A to the park, Twin B opted to hang out at home and we settled in for some quality game time. Twin B will be quick to tell you that Sorry is mostly a game of luck, not skill, but still—nobody likes to lose. And about halfway through the game, Twin B. was losing badly.

Just when he would start to pull ahead, get some guys out of start, he would fall behind again. I would get a Sorry card, or trade places with one of his guys, putting him back where he started. And then came the true bad luck—the move back four card. This is a great card to get when you’ve just let your guy out of start, but a real bummer when you’re halfway around the board.

And Twin B. got six in a row.

When he drew the last one, he exclaimed, “Oh, man! Are you kidding me?” And then he flashed his toothless, first grader smile, threw his head back and laughed.

I laughed with him, and we both shook our heads at his rotten luck.

It’s just a game, but I’m glad he can laugh when things aren’t going his way. Sometimes life keeps giving you one Move Back Four card after another, and what else can you do?

Have a good laugh and keep moving.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

shopping and toddlers

It’s like pickles and peanut butter—they’re both great, but they just don’t go together very well. Now, usually the toddler is a good sport, and we have a nice time shopping.

Today was not one of those days.

He didn’t take his nap, which happens now and then. (Especially since he needs to nap early, so he’s up in time to walk the noisy boys home from school.) The plan was to have a snack, do homework, and head to the shoe store. (Buy one, get one half off!)

This is usually a fairly simple process. Measure feet. Pick out shoes. Try shoes on. Buy shoes.

Not today.

Today it was, “pull shoes out of the box and try them on without even checking the size because Mom is totally busy chasing our wild maniac toddler brother around the store to keep him from destroying things.”

Yeah. One of those.

I declared defeat after about twenty minutes, and we headed to the van. “We’ll have to come back later, guys. Without your little brother.”

About halfway home it sunk in, and Twin A. said, “You mean all of that was for nothing?”

“Yup,” I confirmed.

“Oh, come on!” He moaned.

I couldn’t agree more. Now on to the dinner hour. Always an adventure!

Monday, March 16, 2009

big mac attack

I saw my first Bulls game on Saturday night. I’m not a huge sports fan (and by huge I mean not at all unless it’s MY kid playing), but it was fun.

We went with friends from Intervaristy. They received a donation of fifty tickets to the game by a generous donor who wanted them to be able to connect with supporters in a unique way, and we enjoyed hanging out and doing something we wouldn’t normally do. ($46 for EACH TICKET? REALLY?)

The crowd was jazzed. (And by jazzed I mean they could have been a little bit quieter so I could talk to the woman sitting beside me without shouting.)

The whole night was fun, until the end. The Bulls won the game 97-79 against the Hornets. Which is great, right? Except we all had these cards in our hands that said if the Bulls won by 100 points, we could exchange our card for a free Big Mac. So as the clock ran out, people started chanting, “Big Macs! Big Macs!” And then this poor guy (who probably makes quite a lot of money) took a shot and MISSED, and as the clock ran out, the crowd booed. Loudly.

And I thought, didn’t their mothers teach them anything?

Is this what America has become? Our team wins and we boo because we don’t get a free Big Mac?

Thursday, March 5, 2009


The toddler and I went grocery shopping on Monday. He loves cantaloupe, so I was thrilled that they were on sale for only $1.79 each. As soon as I put it in the cart, he started asking, “CANLOPE NOW?

Cantaloupe isn’t really a good “shopping snack,” so I explained that we’d have to eat it at home—after it ripened.

After we got home and unloaded the groceries, he went into full meltdown mode. “CANLOPE NOW! CANLOPE READY NOW!”

But it wasn’t ready. It needed to ripen. I tried to explain that the cantaloupe would be yucky if we ate it now, but he kept insisting, “NO! FINE!”

Toddlers and waiting patiently don’t go together very well.

I can relate. I hate waiting. We’re in a season of waiting right now, and it’s driving me up a wall. And yet God knows what’s best for us. He knows what we need, and He knows when we need it.

(Incidentally, the next morning Llama Papa fed the kids breakfast and sliced into the cantaloupe, much to the toddlers delight. When I walked into the kitchen he smiled and said, “CANLOPE NOW! DADDY SAID YES!” He ate almost the whole thing.)