Archive for August, 2013

She’s Learning

August 16, 2013

The other day a new father confessed to Lala that the first time he heard his son cry out, he felt like crying himself.

“Wait until he’s two,” she told him.  “You’ll have that feeling again.”

Enjoying The Game

August 15, 2013

While I stand firm in my refusal to idealize childhood, even I have to admit there’s something to be said for a mindset that has just as much fun dropping the ball as it does successfully catching or throwing it.

Pretty Thin Even As Silver Linings Go

August 14, 2013

I realize this has been a hard day for you, son, and that you haven’t fully recognized connections between statements like, “If you yell one more time, you’re going to your room,” then being sent to your room because you yelled again.  (It’s a fair warning thing, and me being in the habit of that will become more useful over time, I promise.)

Yes, I realize that you asked very nicely for orange juice, and if we had any orange juice, I certainly would have given you some (The store was out of the brand you like, you see.  We did look.), but even so!  Yelling at me for not giving you non-existent orange juice really didn’t give you want you wanted, now did it?

For what its worth, it didn’t give me what I wanted either.  In fact, the only thing sending you to your room got me that I wanted was sparing me the argument over why there was no orange juice.

It Takes Some People A LONG Time To Become Adults

August 13, 2013

One of the reasons I don’t idealize childhood is because one of its hallmarks is starting to play too wild on the couch, then tumbling off head first, scaring yourself silly in the process, and being saved from injury only because your father (who was already moving to intercept you), managed to grab you by the back of the shirt to keep you from landing on your head.  (I also spilled half a mug’s worth of hot tea in the process, but only a coffee table suffered from that.)

Adults misjudge things too, son, there’s no shame in that, BUT . . .

After such an experience, an adult would not then climb back on the couch and start trying to do exactly the same thing that caused them to fall a moment before.

Because It’s An Odd Moment, Let Me Tell You

August 12, 2013

Did you ever stop and have to ask yourself at what point you no longer found it strange to learn that someone you know had Poison Ivy in their house, and you knew without asking they weren’t talking about the plant?

Now Let’s Talk (Part Two)

August 9, 2013

It could have been worse though, because I was only helping support other people in their goals; there was no personal pressure on me aside from that.

Funny thing is because there was no personal pressure on me, and never has been when it comes to diets, the only time I’ve discussed diets here is when I’ve been poking fun at my reactions to dieting.  I’ve never specifically spelled out that for lasting weight loss, you generally need to go the long haul of lifestyle change, and this almost always includes diet and exercise.  I consider this such a basic knowledge fact that I’ve never felt the need to spell it out.

For what it’s worth, and it’s not worth much, I’ve seen how tough it can be to lose weight, though I’ve only personally experienced the hardships obliquely and/or second-hand.  You see (and I’m saying this only because Lala gave me her specific permission to do so), over the past two years or so, I’ve watched Lala struggle as she has lost and kept off over one hundred pounds, and the main purpose of the recent temporary restrictive diet we all went on was to help get her over a sticking point on her weight loss goals, and nothing more.  I never mentioned that because I didn’t consider it relevant to mention before now.

I’m super proud of her though, which I consider supremely relevant to mention, and I’m happy I’ve been able to have been there for her as much as I have been able.  If this means I have to suffer the occasional discomfort from joining her on a diet, and, in the process, earn the scorn of a troll who knows not that of which it speaks when it comes to me, I can live with that.


Now Let’s Talk (Part One)

August 8, 2013

As I said yesterday, I recently had my first real trolling attempt here.  I assure you that my disdainful response was quite genuine, as was my amusement, but so also were my thanks, because I woke up to a busy day with no idea what I was going to write about, so it was nice to have a topic delivered to me on a platter like that.  It did get me thinking though . . .

(And let me be clear that this isn’t for the troll, despite its lovely follow-up message, though I have no particular objections if they decide to read this and join the adult human race because of it.  That would be up the them though; I don’t have time to try to change trolls.)

I would like to think that anyone with basic reading comprehension skills would be able to understand that when I described myself as having “suffered,” I was being facetious, but the truth of the matter is I did suffer somewhat in supporting my girls in their diet.  I did so willingly, if not always happily, and I’d put the discomfort level about on par with going to see a doctor about a stomach ache and having to sit in the waiting room past your scheduled appointment time . . . for about two weeks.

As the old saying goes, worse things happen at sea every day, but fun it was not.

My First Troll

August 7, 2013

I’m so proud.

It seems my use of the word “diet” yesterday drew its attention.   Sadly, this troll was a particularly sickly one, and didn’t have any brains or teeth, and shall probably die soon from lack of attention, but I shall always cherish the ten seconds it took me to read its comment and laugh.

Thanks, troll.  I needed that.

That . . . Would Explain It

August 6, 2013

“So . . . did a lot of people at your family reunion comment on your weight loss?” I asked Lala.

“No,” she answered.  “Most people didn’t say anything at all about it.”

“How could that be?” I asked, thinking about how much *I* had suffered on the diet she and L’s mother had undertaken partially in preparation for this reunion.

“Most people there hadn’t seen me since I was five,” she explained.

Speaking Of Irony . . .

August 5, 2013

Let the record reflect that, yes, I am aware of the irony that sometimes I have to raise my voice so my child can hear me telling them they need to be quieter.  For what it’s worth, I’d rather be using flashcards, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t work.