August 8, 2012 · 10:10 am

Word Problems VIII (The Back to School Edition)

The Runaway Mama is instructed to buy 12 glue sticks for her son’s Kindergarten class (as well as a thousand other supplies).  He’ll be one of 18 children in his class.  How many glue sticks will her son’s teacher have stockpiled in her classroom?

216.  Is it me, or is that a hell of a lot of glue?

Summer camp is expensive.  So is “there’s-two-weeks-between-when-camp-ends-and-school-begins” camp otherwise known as Camp Mama.  The Runaway Mama takes her boys to the movies on Saturday and spends about $45 on tickets and popcorn.  On Monday, she takes them to a children’s art museum and spends $135 on tickets (and a year-long family membership for future savings) and another $35 on lunch and a little something from the museum’s toy store (because being at the dynamic, exciting, and fun museum for three hours wasn’t quite enough).  On Tuesday, the Runaway Mama spends $30 at the toy store rewarding her boys for going to the dentist (a hellish experience for which she will be billed at a later date).  On Wednesday, she ships the boys off to a four hour long My Gym camp and it’s the best $90 she’s ever spent in her life.  Just three days into Camp Mama, how much has the Runaway Mama spent caring for and entertaining her kids (excluding wine, which, like the abovementioned glue sticks, is required in abundance)?

$335 (plus the future dentist bill).  I’m starting to think I was undercharged for summer camp.  

Dylan likes to ask the Runaway Mama number-themed questions all day long.  Over and over again.  The same questions.  A dozen or so times a day.  How old are you?  36.  How old is Daddy?  38.  Are you older than Grandma?  No.  Who was born before me?  A lot of people.  Did I turn five a long time ago?  About eight months ago.  Will I always be older than Riley?  Yes.  How old will Riley be when I’m 10.  Eight.  Am I a tween?  Not yet.  How old is a teenager?  13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, and 19.  Will I be all grown up when I’m a teenager?  Probably not.  Will I be all grown up when I’m 20?  One can hope.  Can you count to a thousand?  Yes, but I don’t want to.  How old is the Earth?  I don’t know, a couple of billion years old.  How many people are on the planet?  About seven billion, I think.  How many states are there in the United States of America?  50.  How many states are there in the world?  I have no idea.  A lot.  Someone get this kid in touch with Siri!  After a long day of extreme togetherness and endless questions, Dylan asks the Runaway Mama how old the Earth is.  (Again.)  Then he asks how old she is.  (Again.)  The he asks if she is older than the Earth.

New game.  Whoever is quiet the longest wins.

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Filed under camp, math, school

August 2, 2012 · 12:09 pm

Transform(er)ation

Parenting is about problem solving.  For instance, Dylan used to bring his lunch box home from school every day with his fruit squeezer uneaten.  It turns out the reason he wasn’t eating it was because he couldn’t open the top by himself.  Once I figured it out, I popped the cap and resealed it loosely each morning before putting it in his lunch box.  Problem solved.  Now when his fruit squeezer comes home uneaten, it’s merely a philosophical statement about his disapproval of fruit’s existence.  Food therapy here we come!

Here’s another one – a real doozy.  There was a time when I savored (note the past tense) the nights when Riley’s crept into my bed in the middle of the night. Oh how I relished in the joy of sleeping with my squishy baby!  Then, every now and then turned into every night.  Then, he refused to sleep in his bed at all.  He had to start and finish the night in our bed.  Then, he took a liking to sleeping horizontally across the bed.  Then, he peed in the bed.  Then, I turned into a Crazy Mama.  I lost the only thing in the world that was sacred to me  – my bed.  (I lost the bathroom a long time ago.)

Riley desperately needs a bedtime transformation, and I desperately want to brush and floss my teeth, watch “The Last Word with Lawrence O’Donnell,” read my book, and play one last round of Words with Friends BY MYSELF!

Enter Shopaholic Mama and Master-Of-Reading-Ikea-Directions-And-Building-Ikea-Furtniture Daddy and behold…

The fun, exciting, cool, amazing, big-boy bunk bed!

I’ve wanted to get a bunk bed for the boys for a while.  They share a room, it’s a great space saver, and, according to Dylan, “It’s so awesome!”  While Mike bought he bed, I took the boys to Target to buy Transformer sheets.  They live and breathe Bumblebee and Optimus Prime these days, and Riley pinky promised he’d sleep in his bed if I bought him Transformer sheets…and an “Avengers” blanket…and a “Batman” blanket…and two Optimus Prime pillows.  (I’m such a sucker.)  Dylan, who always sleeps in his bed, made out like a bandit on that shopping spree.

Problem solved, right?  Not so fast.  It took four long, exhausting, white flag waving, pinky promise breaking, Pino Grigio drinking nights, but last night Riley finally slept in his bed.  All night.  Start to finish.  In. His. Bed!

Look at that beautiful blue star!  (He also scored major bonus points for waking up dry.)

Big props to Mike who was home from work last night in time to experience the hell that is bedtime in our house.  He and his guitar can take full credit for taming the beast.

Note to self:  Learn to play guitar.

Transformation complete?  Hardly.  I have no idea what will happen tonight, but right now I’m being where I am and enjoying the satisfaction of solving another problem no matter how brief the victory lasts.  I’m off to Toys R Us now to finish school supply shopping and to buy Riley’s reward, which, of course, will be a Transformer.  He requested a green one.  Wish me luck!

Co-sleeping Mamas (and Daddies): How do you cope with the lack of privacy?

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Filed under bedtime, parenting, Shopaholic Mama, shopping, sleep, toys