Being your own family’s best friend is reinforcing the centuries old wisdom in the Stoic quote ‘moderation in all things.’ The best of intentions can turn sour when the volume is turned up too high. Even love, generosity, and affection. We are trying our best to give both kids the space they need to continue to grow. This might mean (often) biting our tongue over their study habits. Or missing an assignment. Or misinterpreting the answer Alexa is clearly feeding them.
It’s one of parenting’s more difficult tasks to willingly let your kids struggle especially if you have the answer or experience to correct them. Always giving them everything in the moment is a recipe for a long term disaster.
Always make sure they know you love them, of course, but no need to be in their hip pocket all the time. You don’t need to learn the facts about ancient Sumeria with them. They know you care about them.
Care about he kids, not the ancient city of Ur. They had their own family problems.
What turned out be a pretty quiet Saturday started with a pretty loud bang of thunder. It made me almost wistful that both girls were now old enough to stay in their own rooms.
Dash and Ally showed the same reluctance to really get moving beyond the couch.
This week at Cecilia’s Bakeshop: coffee cake muffins. Cecilia also learned an important lesson. Sometimes you can do everything right and the end result still comes out a bit lackluster. We both agreed the muffin needed… some other punch of flavor.
The Mega Millions started off well, we nailed the first number, the girls were sure we had the deed to that Italian villa in the bag, but it went downhill after that. Tried to explain the economics and opportunity cost of the lottery to them. They went back to watching Disney+.
The rain kept both of us inside for our workouts. Michelle <sarcasm>loves</sarcasm> her time on the treadmill. The girls learn so many new words.
It came to light this week that I might need a bit of wardrobe update. By happenstance, both my primary pairs of jeans were in the laundry at the same time and rummaging through my closet showed all my backup pants might not be from this century.
Michelle and Cece set off to rectify the situation. Not sure why they were distracted by jackets. My jacket is definitely less than 10 years old.
The next book is due to the editor at the end of the month. The girls have become quite used to finding me at my desk at lunchtime in my pajamas. Also, see pants situation above.
This week, perhaps in an attempt to torture us, Ally’s piano teacher assigned “improvisation.” Ally has embraced it with both hands. She loves making songs.
She decided her new improvised songs were so good they needed their own music videos.
This week’s glimpse into our trash and recycling habits courtesy of Ally. Halfway through dry January. A lot of seltzer in that bin.
After the transfer station, Dash had a play date. Ally tried to bring his squeaky ball for him to play with. Another dog promptly stole it and ran off.
Besides, dry January, Michelle also is going cheese-free for the month. That has made our usual pizza night… an existential challenge. Is it still pizza without cheese?
She grudgingly admits the ‘flatbreads’ with roasted vegetables and cashew cream taste good but refuses to use the p-word.
We finished the night with Free Solo. They couldn’t make it through Paddington Bear but were enthralled by a man climbing the sheer side of a mountain without ropes.