June 2008 Archives

Yesterday, Firstborn came running into the room, screaming, "Spider! Spider!" mimicking his older cousin who has a healthy fear of the little things.

In comes Wonder Boy hot on his heels, bellowing, "Aaahhh!"

Then he stopped, looked at me and said, "Wait. Are we afraid of spiders?"

Children's entertainer Zak Morgan of L.A. told me kids' brains are like brand new hard drives.

"It's uncluttered and fast and fertile," he said. "I love to challenge children without taking away any of their naivete."

Father's Day is an uncomplicated affair at our house. We have Hubby, the young dad, to present ties, DVDs and power tools to. There's my father-in-law to honor too, usually with homemade cards, fishing gear and power tools. My own dad, I tell my boys, is in heaven. To them he's a picture in a shadowbox, a distinguished-looking, mustachioed guy with his hand to his chin, or a name on a gravestone.

"Grandpa in the grass," my youngest once called him.

Fathers. Even today I have to cry.

Time IS a tricky thing.

I feel like a twenty-something who weighs 30 pounds less than I actually do. I thought I had a few gray hairs until I counted more than six. I l look at Hubby and see my handsome groom, but in the morning, he'll rub his belly and complain about his expanding waistline.

Last week I attended my 13-year-old niece's eighth-grade graduation. As milestones go, it isn't the same as high school or college, sure. But it's close.