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stubborn

Stubborn

My dog likes to tear apart the throw rug we keep in our front hallway, right in front of the door. I’ve replaced this rug three different times. Each time, she chews it up within a matter of months. She starts at one corner, grabs hold of a thread, and starts pulling. We never see her do this–we’ll just walk down the stairs in the morning to find plastic threads and twisted yarn scattered all over the place, little pieces of fabric thrown around like unwanted confetti. Oftentimes, it happens right after we’ve just vacuumed and mopped and everything looks so calm and perfect, and, well, intact. This dog does not enjoy a clean floor.The rug matches a longer one I have in the hallway leading to the living room. You see one, you see both. So each time Riley does her damage, I dig through the internet until I find it, the exact replica, though it’s getting more and more difficult to do so, but still better than replacing both. I really like the pattern, too. I don’t want to find a new one entirely. And…

Well, I Know What’s Right: Las Vegas and Ethics and Being a You Liberal

My little guy is sitting beside me, drawing, and his tongue is sticking out of his mouth in concentration. “Mom?” He looks up from his coloring sheet, one covered with superheroes and villains. “Why is Ironman called that when he doesn’t do any ironing?” I answer him, trying not to laugh, and notice that his eyes look green today. They reflect the dinosaurs marching across his pajamas. He was wearing them when we dropped the girls off at school, a little homebody who’s relieved to spend most of the day with me, away from the rest of the world. Superheroes have powers, but what about us? What are ours? I try to keep telling myself that the best way to start changing the world–because yes, we need to, and no, we’re not overthinking it–is to begin with my own family. Show each person in this house unconditional love. Grant a little mercy and grace more often. Make each kid and adult feel like he’s someone good, someone worthy, someone capable. And then somebody smears toothpaste all over the bathroom mirror and I lose my…

The Banana Battle: No, it’s Not What You’re Thinking

I’m going to tell you a story– a small one, not a big deal in the grand scheme of all that happens on a regular day in Parenting Land, but one that isn’t easy to tell–about an incident that happened with Quinlan. But this isn’t a story about my child. It’s actually one about my husband.Our Mighty is testing her powers, as it were. She’s getting a bit mouthier. More stubborn sometimes. When she talks back, she commits, and holds on to the rudeness and disrespect with a tenacity that should be unheard of in someone who has recently been caught coating her hair in body lotion after a shower. People will tell us that we need to spank, that we need to instill the fear of God in these little people. For seven years we’ve been trying to fear-instill without the corporal punishment part, and, well, it’s going as you expected. Maybe that’s why Quinlan recently told a mother helper in her kindergarten class that Mommy needs no-yelling practice. Just a hunch. It’s all I…