We had to evacuate our house on Saturday. Okay, it wasn’t quite as dramatic as it sounds. Our realtors wanted to stage the house and take some photos. And they wanted to do it ALONE. Apparently, they felt that we would get underfoot. And break their stuff. (Yes and yes.)
Author Archives: crabin
Traumatizing the Realtor
I think we may have traumatized our realtor. Poor Sam. He’s a single guy in his late thirties. Maybe early forties. No kids. Likes to spend his weekends watching football. And playing bass guitar. I’m willing to guess that Sam has never changed a diaper. But I sense that each time he walks through our door– and sees our children– he is struck with the fear that we might ask him to.
The Boss of Me
Emma keeping tabs on Dan
You know that awkward moment when you realize you’ve been completely played by one of your kids? Yeah, that. Turns out, if you want to know who’s in charge in my household, you need to look down. Nope, not at the four year old. Farther down. Just follow the trail of cracker crumbs on the floor. To Emma. The one-and-a-half-year-old. Sure, she looks innocent. Don’t be fooled. (Or she will play you too.) I’m pretty sure I saw a copy of Lean In stashed under her crib mattress.
Cold and Flu Season
I live in the Northeast. So we experience all four seasons: spring, summer, autumn and cold and flu season. Break out the Tylenol, people, cuz we’re in the middle of another one.
Fashion Police
A Younger Jacob Practicing His GQ Pose
Joan Rivers has nothing on my kids. Seriously. Jacob and Emma are the REAL fashion police.
The Game of Chicken
If you’ve ever been in any sort of serious relationship, you have probably played the Game of Chicken. The only question is: what kind?
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Blizzard
Friday kicked off the biggest blizzard of the year. (That would be more impressive if it weren’t just the first week in January.) It was cold and windy and snowy. Wind chill in the negative digits. Our city had a parking ban. And the weatherman on TV made it clear that any child who so much as thought about sledding would immediately be stricken with frost bite.
Bottom line: We. Were. Stuck. Inside.
Emma’s New Years Resolutions
Hi Folks,
Me again. I understand that there is another holiday on the way. New Years. Okay, a few questions. First, do we need a new one because someone broke the old one? If so: it wasn’t me. (Unless by “year” you mean Mommy’s necklace. That was totally me.) Next question: does this holiday mean I get boxes wrapped in shiny paper. No? Well, then honestly, what’s the big deal?
Stocking Stuffers
Stocking stuffers. What a brilliant concept. If I celebrated Christmas, I wouldn’t even bother getting a tree. I would just buy each member of my family a huge, T-Rex-sized stocking. And fill it with lots of little things. Trinkets. Gadgets. Knick knacks. Honestly, this seems like more fun than the big stuff. Anybody with me? Anyone? (It was worth a shot.)
Doing What You Said You’d Never Do
Jacob in a coffee shop (drinking water)
I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’ve figured out who the best parents are. Want to know?
Wait for it . . .
PEOPLE WHO DON’T ACTUALLY HAVE CHILDREN. These folks know everything about parenting. They can tell you exactly what you need to do to raise perfectly happy, healthy, well behaved children. I suppose we were ALL amazing parents once . . . before we actually had children. Back when it was just a hypothetical. And we still had time to read all those parenting books. And observe other parents. And make mental lists of all the things we’d never do when WE had children. Remember those days? (Does it hurt too much to remember when “me time” didn’t refer to a five-minute shower in the morning?) Funny how things change once the little ones arrive. Apparently, actual parenting is slightly more complicated than hypothetical parenting. At least that has been my experience. As a result, my husband Dan and I have caved in. And done a number of things we said we would never do. Here are just a few examples.
Fumbling Toward Naptime 