2.21.2010

Son, meet your father. Boyfriend, meet my husband, and my baby's daddy...

Wanna know what can happen in the space of about six weeks, if you just stay organized and on point?

Your three-year-old can meet his father for the first time in his life.

Followed in quick succession by a meet-up at the Museum of Natural History with said father of your three-year-old. Yes, the same one your three-year-old just met.

And because you were extra coordinated and magnanimous, and maybe drinking on the day you sent that email, three-year-old father's girlfriend has been invited to meet you and your kids at the Museum, where boyfriend (!!) has accompanied you. Because someone has to provide some moral support for you. And well, boyfriend has, amazingly, offered to be that person. Which is why, let's face it, he was even a candidate in the first place to become a boyfriend. Because we all know how well the man thing has been going up until now.

So then, feeling In The Holiday Spirit, you invite boyfriend (!!) to be at Early Christmas - which one can find in the Divorced Family Calendar, about a month after Late Thanksgiving, and shortly before Every Other New Year.

Boyfriend (!!) arrives fashionably late for Early Christmas, meets your ex-husband, and everyone settles in to watch the opening (mauling) of the presents under the tree. Including a couple of packages from your husband's girlfriend. Whom you end up meeting at your older son's birthday, after asking husband to bring her so you can finally meet the girl who has been spending weekends with your kids.

Mass confusion at birthday party on attendees' parts - but since you come from a successfully divorced family, having your boyfriend, your ex-husband, and his girlfriend all there to celebrate your son turning 7 doesn't faze you at all.

Because it's not about you. It's about the kids enjoying as much love and support as the world will give them. No matter how weird the rest of the world thinks your little family bramblebush is.


2.11.2010

Stop the insanity!!!

Here's how it went down:

Me: Hurry up, we're going to be late for school.

Luca: Okaaayyyy... I'm getting my coat ooonnnn.

Me, 5 minutes later: Luca, let's go, get your shoes on! Why don't you have your jacket on?! Turn off the television! I'm not going to say it again!

Luca: Fiiine-uh!! I'm going!

Me, 1 minute later: Put on your jacket! Turn off the television! I'm leaving!

Luca: I'm coming!!!

Cut to car, boys in back seat, dog flailing around for a comfortable place to sit.

Luca: Wallace (the dog), sit down! On the floor!

Wallace gets heaved onto the floor of the car, ending up in a rather ignominious heap, head hanging like a limp lampshade.

Luca: Good boy. Stay.

Dash: Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.

Luca: Stop saying stay! He's staying already! You don't have to keep on saying it!

Dash: Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.

Luca: Dashiell!! Stop saying that!! You're irritating me!!

Dash: Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.

Luca: Dashie!!! Say it in the car on the way back from dropping me off!

Dash: I don't wanno say it in the car on the way home. I wanno say it now. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.

Luca, melting down: I told you to stop saying that!! Stop it!!

Dash: Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.

Me, with one half of my brain already having a nervous breakdown: Neither one of you says another word or I'm stopping this car and you're both walking home.

Dash: Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.

Luca, a frazzled puddle by now: Mamae, I'm not the one doing it!! Dashie won't stop saying Stay!! Make him stop!!

Me, the second half of my brain threatening to start acting like Mommy Dearest: That's it. No Wii for either one of you today or tomorrow!!! SHUT IT AND STOP TOUCHING EACH OTHER!!!

Dash: Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.

I need a drink. And SuperNanny.