The Family

Tiny Victories (Or..it shouldn’t HAVE to take a village…)

kanniduba9 Comments

So there’s this little boy who lives down the lane.  (Okay, it’s down the street, but doesn’t “lane” sound better?)

I started to notice him last summer….walking, or riding on his bike erratically, always alone.  Being a teacher, and a Nosy to boot, I started to pay closer attention.  This child looked extremely young, definitely too young to be alone…hmmm.

So I watched.  I would see him at all hours of the day, well into the evening, out and about, never with anyone. 

My dear neighbor started to notice him too.  Hmmm.  How old is this child? 

So we started asking our kids, “Do you know this little boy?” 

Turns out, he was in my neighbor’s son’s class—Kindergarten class.  Hmmm.

So I start not only paying attention, but watching out for him.  “Get out of the middle of the road!  Ride on the side!  Where’s your helmet?  Shouldn’t you be home since it’s getting dark outside?” as he would zoom past my house, head down.

One day he comes so close to getting hit by a car in front of my house, I decide I can’t stand by and just watch this unsupervised child anymore.  There are benefits to being a teacher and knowing every support staff member in the district—so I make a call, explain the situation, and ask for advice.  Apparently there’s already been concerns.  I’m told to place the call. 

Done.  And I’m practically laughed off the phone.  It seems as though this level of unsupervision is not a cause for CPS to investigate…No lie, I am told, “Now if he got HIT by a car in front of your house, that would be different.”   I swear to God, if I could’ve reached through the phone to throttle the woman on the other end, I would’ve done it.  “Let me get this straight…you can only help the child once the child is dead?  Are you for real?”  Big sigh, and I’m put on with a supervisor who instructs me to approach the parents and discuss the situation since, “Maybe they aren’t even aware that he’s out and about.”  WHAT????!!!!!!!!  “Well, isn’t that a problem right there??!!!  Thanks for your lack of help.”  And I hung up the phone.

(Upon re-reading this post, I will insert here that I know CPS is overwhelmed, and there are children out there in worse circumstances.  However, I think they’re completely missing the boat with this kid.)

So, anyway…being way too protective of my own family to approach the parents personally (I’ve heard Dad is beastly) I’ve opted to pray, and watch, and protect when I can.  “Get out of the road…stay on the side…play in the dirt in my yard, not in the dirt on the side of the road.”  And suddenly, he’s coming around more. 

He’s been hanging around between my house and my neighbor’s house, playing with our kids.  He’s a sweet little thing, and looks even smaller than his six years.  Never once has anyone come around looking to see where he is. 

So last night I say, “If I bought you a helmet, would you wear it?”

A shy nod.

“Do you PROMISE??  I worry about you.”

A shy nod.

And my dear neighbor jumps in and says, “Wait!  I have one right here!” and pops into the shed to grab the spare that she had.

I help him put it on.  We make the fit just right.  And he rides off toward home around 8:00pm.

We stare after him, then shaking our heads say, “Well, I’ll bet that’s the last time we ever see that helmet,” but feel at least we tried.

This afternoon, he zooms by my house afterschool—–proudly wearing his new helmet.

I think it will take a village to raise this child.  I hope we’re up to the task.

Curse of the Teletubby

kanniduba14 Comments

Okay, so, way back when in Once Upon a Time time, we were given a teeny little Teletubby as a hand-me-down toy to Little Girl 1.  Little Girl 1 didn’t really like said Teletubby, and we were glad.

Four years later, Little Girl 2 was born.  At about 13 months old, Little Girl 2 discovered this little red Teletubby in the basket of hand-me-down toys, and she picked it up, kissed it, tucked it into her neck like a phone, and carried it around with her all the day long.  She called him “Bubby” and her love of Teletubbies was born.  We were NOT glad.  As any parent knows, Teletubbies are not the things you want your children to latch onto, since their “annoyance factor” on a scale of 1-10 is 1000.  However, watching Little Girl 2 LOVE this toy, would melt your heart, and so, as any parent knows, we had a difficult time not indulging her in her Teletubby habit.  By the time all was said and done, Little Girl 2 owned three videos and 9 Teletubbies…the original little Bubby, and two sets of four, one large and one medium sized.  They hold the place of honor at the foot of her bed to this day.

Fast forward five years.  Mr. Baby Boy is born, and we try every lovey imaginable trying to get him to attach to something—anything.  (Okay, I should say anything but a Teletubby.  Zan has said more than once, “No son of mine will have a Teletubby!)  Below is just a small sampling of the sweet little animals that want to be loved, but wind up on the floor next to the crib to sleep alone and cold. 

So last night, since Mr. Baby Boy wouldn’t go to bed on time, he had to join Little Girl 2 and me in her bedroom for storytime.  He starts raising a commotion, pointing and barking like a seal (that’s how he says, “I want that!)  What is he pointing to??  The little red Teletubby!!!!  He took the darn thing, and hugged it and cooed to it throughout storytime, and wouldn’t let it go come bedtime. 

So, despite our protestations, I think we may have found Mr. Baby Boy’s lovey. 

(To Zan:  Sorry, Honey…I couldn’t help it.  He was so cute talking to the little guy!  Even YOU couldn’t have taken it away!)

That thing has magic powers.  And we are doomed to another five years of Teletubby Hell.

(The Suspect.)   

Getting Out the Grill

kanniduba4 Comments

Although it’s sleeting here today (and freezing rain, and snowing now and then,) the weatherman is forecasting 64 degrees tomorrow!  I’m ready!  I’m getting out the grill! 

 I’ve spent two days thinking about what that first grilled meal is going to be, so I’ll be prepared when that warmth strikes.  I’ve got my shorts all picked out, and my sandals dusted off.  Cleaning up the iced tea maker, and lemons are on my grocery list.  I’m thinking marinated london broil sounds tasty, along with some pocket potatoes, roasted with garlic and rosemary…maybe a little sprinkling of dill.  Mmmmm….I can smell it already!  Maybe I’ll even whip up a fresh berry salad for the occasion!  Oooo—with fresh whipped cream on top!  Yeah, that’s what I’ll do!

AND we’ll walk to the local ice cream shop for dessert!  My girls begged me to take them on opening day (Saturday) but I couldn’t bring myself to get bundled up in 28 degree weather to sit at a picnic table and eat an ice cream cone.  Call me crazy.

Gonna get an extra super tall vanilla softy, dipped in chocolate and sprinkles…..Mmmmm!  And the babe’s gonna LOVE his first taste of summery yum!  I can hardly wait!

Eckhart Tolle says live for the Now. 

I’ll live for the Now tomorrow.  😉

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

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Well, St. Patrick’s Day is always a special day in my family.  I tell people that I’m French born, but Irish raised, and that’s because 34 years ago today, I met my Dad, an Irish Catholic raised in The Bronx.

I was four years old, and my Mom and I had been invited to the home of a family friend to celebrate the holiday.  You know how some memories get etched in your brain permanently, and when looking back with an adult perspective you understand why?  Well, I remember with ultimate clarity, going to sit on my Mom’s lap.  I remember being hot and sweaty, and wanting a drink.  I remember finding her amongst the adults, sitting on the couch.   I backed up to her legs and went to push myself up, as children do, using what I thought was her leg.  However, the leg I used did not belong to Mom, as it turned out.  It belonged to this six and a half foot tall stranger sitting next to her.  I was surprised at how tall he was, and I remember looking at him startled once I realized that giant leg wasn’t Mom’s.  I remember him smiling at me and saying, “How are you?”  I was shy and embarrassed and turned away.  Little did I know what was to come of that meeting.

That stranger entered my life as my stepfather six months later, and entered my heart shortly after that.  I don’t know exactly when he became “Dad” but my life is what it is because he chose to marry “us.” 

Thanks for the flowers Dad!  I love you!