I cleaned out the Tyrant’s room last week. I found an ancient bag of Cheetos, all of the missing Tupperware, 14 naked Barbies, and countless Barbie body parts. Apparently, when the girl plays alone in her room, she turns into Dr. Evil and performs amputations with abandon. A Gym Acquaintance recently told me about a Read More
The Tyrant is the first of our children to exhibit true bully potential. The other kids came home last week complaining that she had been trash-talking a boy on the bus. “Which one?” I asked. “That one who’s always being mean to people and calling people names,” answered the Diva. I know that boy. He’s Read More
For the past year or so, we’ve limited Teddy’s access to the outside world. Frankly, we’d become weary of his/her constant wandering, and the exhausting ritual of finding him/her before bedtime. The Tyrant has no ability to keep track of her dearest belonging. Us: Did you bring Teddy to the gym? Did Teddy go outside Read More
The Tyrant has pneumonia. Again. But she’s such a trooper that I didn’t suspect anything till she started vomiting mucus in the middle of the night. Even at the doctor’s office, in between coughing up phlegm and spitting into the trash can, she was climbing up the cabinets and playing THROW TEDDY AT MOMMY’S HEAD. Read More
Children can make you say things you don’t mean, like, “SHUT UP!” and “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE” and “OH MY GOD STOP TOUCHING ME!” Or maybe that’s just me. I work harder to control my temper these days than I ever have in my life. I’m not a naturally calm person. I’m impatient. I don’t Read More
The Tyrant has decided she would like to be president after all. “I wanna be da fust gull president,” she says. First girl president. Okay. So I’m getting to work on changing the Constitution, since she mistakenly did not enter the world on U.S. soil. I’m also investigating which other countries might accept her candidacy. Read More
Every morning at the Tyrant’s preschool, the kids have a question to answer as they walk in the room, like What do you want to be when you grow up? (mermaid) or What’s your favorite food? (Velveeta). This morning’s question: Would you like to be president? And the Tyrant’s all UH, NO-OH! DUH! BORING! But I felt my Read More
The Tyrant is an adorable child from every angle. Except behaviorally. Duh, that’s why we call her the Tyrant. But just to look at her? Holy Turkey Legs, those almond eyes could melt a frozen margarita. That dimple is going to break someone’s heart one day. And you should hear her burp! And you can Read More
The great journalist Susan Orlean once wrote a piece called The American Man, Age 10. It’s a profile of a little boy named Colin, and in it, Colin’s father describes his son like this: It’s like living with a native of Mars who happens to know some English. When I first read that line over Read More
Driving to preschool. The Tyrant looking out the window. Her: Mom, how do they build houses? Me: Well, first they build a foundation, which is like the floor, then they add walls and a roof. Her: Maybe I’ll build houses when I grow up. Me: That’s great, honey! (Note my unbridled support for anything my Read More
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