Picket Fence Post

Item #1: Movie Sets are Boring

I thought the kids might find it fun to visit the location where a movie is being filmed in the MetroWest/Boston area. We might get the chance to see Adam Sandler, who the kids loved in the comedy Bedtime Stories, and maybe even Paul Blart, THE Mall Cop.

So after school one day this week, I drove the three of ‘em to the film shoot. We stood with a large crowd of other spectators across the street from where they were filming. Several of their friends came by intermittently, including a Girl Scout troop run whose members the eldest two kids knew. While they were amazed to see one of their teachers drive by in her mini-van, I told them to be on alert for some real fun as I handed them a Sharpie and a notebook for autographs.

However I think I way oversold it. We waited for over two hours and what did we get for our patience? Mere glimpses of Sandler, who gamefully waved to the crowd from across the street . . . and atop a hill . . .  kind of behind other people, and of other celebs who the kids didn’t know, such as Salma Hayek, Chris Rock and David Spade. Some random guy driving a Lamborghini past us on the street was actually the highlight of their experience, that and seeing the teacher in the mini-van.

The Youngest Boy complained non-stop, threatening to explode with boredom and hunger, even though I’d just given him a big bowl of ice cream before we left the house. When he found out that we were going to be at the set through the kids’ TV hour (5 o’clock), he stomped his feet and ran away from me, but not too far away. The Eldest Boy was so utterly bored that he kept pestering me that he had homework to do (on a project not due until the end of the week) and that I was wasting his time, taking away from his education.

What’s that they say about the road and good intentions?

Item #2: Dinner Knife Mystery

We are suddenly, noticably short on dinner knives, those relatively dull knives that came with our everyday flatware set. No matter how many times I run and then unload the dishwasher, we continue to be short on them. Where are they all going? Is someone throwing them away or swiping them? Should I check beneath The Youngest Boy’s bed, where I’ll likely find a treasure trove of candy wrappers, overdue library books, a mix of dirty and clean clothing and all of my working pens?

We’re also grappling with another mystery in our house: Who ate a big hunk out of The Youngest Boy’s solid, chocolate Easter bunny? (Yes, we still have Easter candy in the house, a little bit lying around.) For some unknown reason, The Youngest Boy decided to hoard his bunny until a future date. That future date was Monday, when he discovered — after a frantic search for the bunny – that someone else had beaten him to the punch and consumed a hefty chunk of it, the head and shoulders. He issued all manner of accusations and suspected everyone but me who, sadly, can’t eat milk chocolate (dairy allergy).

We’ve yet to find the perp and I doubt we will, I told him. Let that be a lesson to ya kid, don’t leave your solid chocolate bunny lying around in a house of candy freaks. But that still doesn’t help me answer my question: Where the heck are all the dinner knives?

Item #3: Pajama Diaries Hits Close to Home

In less than a month my three kids will be home from school for the summer. And I’m starting to feel panicked. When I do my work from my home office now, I already feel rushed, like I can’t possibly get all the work I need to get done in the few hours when they’re away at school. (Last one departs at roughly 8:30 a.m., eldest two get home at roughly 2:45.)

Once the summer starts, I’ll be facing the classic work-from-home parent conundrum: How much can I bribe/threaten/cajole the kids to behave while I try to work in the daylight hours, promising them a reward for good behavior/or penalty for poor behavior? (Otherwise I wind up working at night after they go to bed. And they go to bed late in the summer — “Mooom! There’s no school! And it’s light out!” — so that means I have to seriously caffeine up.)

“Why no summer day camps?” you may ask. Well I’ll tell you. We don’t typically do camps in our house because the offspring have vehemently and repeatedly said they do not want to attend them. One child threatened to wage temper tantrums every day of the camp if I enrolled this nameless individual in one, even if it is sports-related. (I can understand his point; I too hated camps when I was a child — threw temper tantrums, tearfully pleaded with my mother to blow them off – even though my summer job in high school/college was, ironically, as a camp counselor. I know. Apple. Falling. Tree. Karmic payback.)

If I force the issue and then a kid — or kids — make my life a living hell by refusing to go or gets sent home early after The Spouse and I pay a boatload o’cash for three kids to go to camp, I’ll be purple with frustration. So instead, I do the best I can to imperfectly balance work and kids in the summer. I whine a lot and do lots of bribing.

While I’m currently looking into finding a reasonably priced babysitter to come to the house a few times a week so I can get some uninterrupted time to write in peace, I’m reading Terri Libenson’s Pajama Diaries comic, about a work-from-home mom, and am getting mentally preparing for the summer onslaught. Today’s (May 21) comic — currently unavailable online with a subscription — demonstrates exactly what I, and other work-from-home parents deal with. Over three panels which show the mom working while fielding simultaneous demands from her client and her kid, the text says:

 ”Work-at-home moms have a hard time separating career and family. Luckily, we have the uncanny ability to adapt. This lies in our dedication, our determination and most notably our desperation.”

And summer is fast approaching.