The Price Family Home Companion

Hindsight Parents

Jeff and I are excellent hindsight parents. We can look back at our parenting mistakes (there have already been oh so many) and tell you exactly what we did wrong and how we would do things differently. Sometimes it takes days or occasionally weeks to see our mistakes but most times it's pretty instant.
Case in point: Our kids love playing Marco Polo. They played it all summer at the pool. Last night they decided to play their own indoor version. Ryan was it because he pretty much has to do whatever his sister tells him. Salem threw a blanket over his head and told him to start yelling "Marco". At first he was very cautious as he followed her "Polos" around the house but it wasn't long before he was chasing with all he is worth. Jeff and I were cracking up. It was quite an amusing little scene. Until Ryan crashed into the kitchen cabinet. As he stumbled toward us dazed and crying Jeff muttered, "I knew that was a bad idea. We should have said no as soon as they started." 20/20 I tell ya 20/20.

Paradise Lost

Ever since I can remember I have always loved going to the mall. I just find walking around looking at all the beautiful things very relaxing. When I'm lonely, I go walk the mall. When I'm irritated, I go walk the mall. When everything is going great, I walk the mall. When I was in college and I was home sick Crossgates Mall became my home away from home. It doesn't matter to me that I can't afford to buy anything (ok, maybe it does a little) I've just always enjoyed going to the mall. It's always made me feel better.

Recently, however, my sanctuary has been defiled. I can't walk through the mall without being attacked by all the kiosk vendors. It's like running the gauntlet. First you have to dodge the lady trying to put a giant metal Daddy Long Legs on your head claiming it will massage your scalp. Then there are the guys with fake foreign accents trying to put some neon stick thing near your neck. Is it perfume? Is it soap? Is it lotion? I don't know. I won't let then get close enough to find out. I may have heard a word that sounded like herbal in their sorry attempt at mimicking Sean Connery. I'm allergic to every grass, weed, and tree known to man. God only knows what would happen if they were to actually get it on me. Does it come with an epipen? Don't forget the guy chasing you with the flat iron, who you probably need if the Daddy Long Legs lady got you. All the while the people at the T mobile kiosk are yelling over and over and over, "Mam do you have a cell phone? Mam you need a cell phone?" Seriously? Do I have a cell phone? It's 2008, isn't everyone over the age of 13 required to have a flippin cell phone. Like I would buy a phone from someone who yells at me anyway.

Sadly, my "happy place" is no more. I guess I'll just have to start taking naps.

Sea World

We went to the first Shamu show and Salem insisted on sitting down front. She wanted to get wet...until she did. Actually, both kids did well the first three times we got doused, they thought it was fun. When we realized we were about to get it a fourth time Salem tried to crawl over the seat to get away while Jeff held her down (she was the reason we were up there) and I did my best to shield Ryan with my body. We were all nearly drowned. I'm not exaggerating. Those ornery Orcas teamed up and sent one tidal wave after another on us and we didn't have a chance to catch our breath. Once we stopped coughing up salt water Jeff and I started laughing in attempt to calm the kids down. Ryan was screaming and Salem was livid and it was all shown on the big screen.

Salem was anxious to try her first roller coaster. Looking back we can see that we should have started with the Shamu Express instead of the Steel Eel. She took the Steel Eel like a trooper though. She didn't scream or cry she just closed her eyes, put her little head back and held on tight. When it was over she said, "That was AWFUL! I HATED that! She eventually did the Shamu Express but we couldn't get her to do any more rides with us. She didn't trust our judgment, even after we reassured her that nothing could be worse than what she'd already done.

Overall, we had a blast. We watched all the shows, ate too much food, enjoyed all the exhibits, they kids even had Shamu painted on their faces. Everything was fun...well, except for that Steel Eel.

Orange Means Go

Today I was driving Ryan to school when I hit a yellow light. Instead of doing what I should have done I hit the gas (shocking isn't it). Then from the backseat I hear this little voice say, "Orange means go too? Momma, orange means go too? I fought it meand sow down." Isn't that just great? I am such a wonderful example for my kids.

Old Mac Donald...

Anyone who knows Ryan knows that NO ONE can talk more than my son. This three year old can bring a grown man to his knees begging for mercy with his constant incessant chattering. Yesterday Ryan was singing Old Mac Donald every time he came to "had a __" he would point to Grammy and she would name an animal and he would go on "with a __ here, and __ there". After 15 minutes Grammy ran out of animals and started saying things like "toothbrush" and Ryan would continue "with a brush brush here, and a brush brush there". Finally Grammy was out of ideas and Ryan pointed at her and she gave him a pleading look and whispered desperately "Ryan" and he continued without hesitation "with a talk talk here, and a talk talk there, here a talk, there a talk, everywhere a talk talk. Grammy started crying but at least she was laughing too.

What do you say to that?

Ryan use of the word "dumb" has gotten completely out of hand. I've started putting him in time out the minute the word is uttered from his lips. We had a lovely conversation where I thought we were making progress only to be left speechless in the end. It went like this...

Ryan: "Mom cats are so dumb."

Me: (in a warning tone while inwardly agreeing) "Ryaaan."

Ryan: "I don't day dumb about people Mom. I don't say that about people."

Me: (proudly) "That's right! We don't say that about people."

Ryan: "Girls are dumb."

Me: "Ry, girls ARE people!"

Ryan: "No they not."

Me: "Ryan, Mommy is a girl!"

Ryan: "I know."

I don't get it...

Since my creative writing ability has been non existent for well over a year (some might argue for much longer than that), I'm pleased that Chantell has taken up the torch. Unfortunately, I can't get her to write her articles on our blog, so I will be excerpting them from Facebook. What follows is the first in a series of notes by the lovely and talented... wifey-pooh (and no, I don't really call her that):

Salem has started making up her own jokes. She actually writes them all down and comes and reads them off to us. Being the good parents we are, we just smile and nod because let's face even it they happen to make sense they're not that funny. She and Ryan however think they're hilarious. Apparently in a child's mind, as long as the punch line contains the word "poop" you're a hit.