The Fling

My husband is having a fling. I know about it too. In fact, he wants me to join in. I just don't know how I feel about having a threesome ..... with a boat.

That's right, the other woman is a boat. A 1996 Four Winns Fling.

It all came about in August right before we went on our yearly vacation up north to a small cabin on a small lake by Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park. This would be our third year taking the kids up to the cabin we rented with my sister-in-law, niece, and brother, who, to put it mildly, is a fishing enthusiast.

The first year the guys went fishing in the rowboat that was provided with the cabin. The rowing proved to be too taxing for them so the second year my husband Jeff borrowed a motor from one of his friends with a boat. He and my brother spent the entire week trying to get that motor to work so they could attach it to the rowboat and go fishing in style. Alas, they never got it started and had to be satisfied with catching fish waist-deep in the lake.

So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised with what was coming next. As our trip approached, Jeff frequented the computer at every spare chance he got.

"Whatcha doing?" I asked him as he sat at the computer while I cleaned up the dinner dishes yet again.

"Nothing," he replied. "Just surfing."

"Surfing for what?" I asked as I walked over to peek at what he was doing. When he saw that I was not going to stop being nosy until I had a satisfactory answer he spilled his plan.

"I'm looking for boats so we can take one up north on vacation."

Oh, the boat obsession thing again.

"What are we going to do with a boat?" I began my argument, one of which he'd heard many, many times. "The kids are too little to tube or water ski and besides, they are afraid of the water anyway!"

"Well, I found a small one on craigslist.com and it's in good shape and is only a mile away. I think I'm going to take a look at it," he said, my argument falling on deaf ears. Oh crap, I thought, this time he's seriously looking. Time to pull out all the stops.

"Where would we store a boat? We can't even fit the cars in the garage right now? And with gas being so high - is buying a boat right now a smart thing?"

Apparently he'd been thinking about the boat for a long time and had done his research so he had an answer for all my questions.

"We can store it at your dad's - he'd let us right? And because this is a small boat it really won't take that much gas. Besides, I've already received an e-mail from the seller and I'm going to take a look tomorrow. Come on, it'll be fun to have a boat!"

He had such a happy look on his face that I conceded. "All right, go take a look at the boat and I'll think about it," I said, but even as I spoke those words I knew the decision wasn't up to me and that if the boat was in good shape the sale was already made.

I did, however, keep up my end of the bargain and think about what life would be like with a boat in it. And I didn't really like what I saw. For one thing, I am not a boat person. I am a land dweller. I like to have both feet planted on solid ground not in a wobbly boat that pollutes the air with gas fumes. Lakes have too many things in them, like seaweed and FISH. Anyone who knows me knows of my fear of the finned ones. I won't even go into the water when minnows appear at the shore. So for me to go in a boat on a lake where if I fall in I might come in contact with a fish is not something that appeals to me.

And another thing: Jeff gets very involved and obsessed with his toys and this boat would be yet another distraction away from me and the boys. I could see it now - the yard would go to pot because every nice weekend for the rest of the summer would be spent on the boat. And evenings would be spent tinkering on the boat.

I kept these thoughts to myself because Jeff came home from the viewing looking so happy as he said "Family, we are almost the proud owners of a boat!" He said almost because he did want to get my input first. So we went to have a look. I have to tell you, I didn't see stars or fireworks as he must have when he first laid eyes on the boat. To me I saw a tiny boat that looked like it was in good shape. To Jeff, it was fun, excitement, and thrill in a small package. Jeff tried to sell me on all the details, like the fact that this boat would retain its value if we decided in a few years that the boating life was not for us after all. "What fun we could have as a family on this boat!" he pontificated. I knew that if I didn't agree that he would either buy it anyway or continue his search until he wore me down, so I relented with strings.

"I'm not totally sold on this boat thing," I told him. "You'll have to do some heavy convincing."

The next day the boat was ours. And the affair had begun. His, not mine.

The first time he got a chance to drive the boat as the owner was on the lake up north, 5 days after he bought it.

"Do you know what you're doing?" I asked him as I helped him back the boat into the water. He assured me he did but I could tell he didn't. The wind was blowing kind of hard and each time he tried to get the boat started it would start to drift back into shore. I was no help because I knew absolutely nothing about boats. Luckily for him a kind, brave soul saw his need and came to help him get the boat started and going in the direction he wanted. I watched him throttle it to full speed as the motor took, hair flying off his forehead as the nose of the boat rose sharply in the air. Well, at least he's happy, I thought. I just hope he doesn't get stranded in the middle of the lake.

That week at the lake was the best week we'd had at the cabin. I'd actually have to say that the boat was a big reason: the dads got to spend some quality time teaching their kids how to fish on the boat; therefore, the moms got some alone time to relax and bake in the sun. And everyone knows that when moms are happy, everyone is happy!

Back home, however, real life with the boat set in. As I'd predicted, every nice weekend was planned around the boat. We took it out with friends one Saturday and were on it for 6 hours. Well, the guys and kids were at least for the novelty of going around a lake in circles had wore off on me up north. Plus, when I was on the boat with Jeff and the kids I was always worried about the kids' safety.

"Don't go so fast," I would tell him as we zoomed over the waves from another boat. "What if you bounce the kids out of the boat?" Jeff assured me that would not happen, but I didn't believe him.

Needless to say, I haven't been on the boat too much. I would much rather be at home than on the boat. He has gone out with the kids and with friends but I can tell that he really wants to take me for a ride and convince me that having a boat is fun. After all, that's what he bought it for.

Tomorrow he will get his chance. The kids are going to the zoo with their grandparents and the weather is supposed to be perfect. So I'll leave my misgivings about the boat behind and try to have fun. After all, why should the boat get to have all the fun? I'd like to have a fling with my husband too!

The Art Of Vomit

Welcome to cold and flu season! Nicholas and I have been down and out with a cold so I haven't had much time to devote to writing. I wrote this piece a couple of years ago but I think it's still timely. Enjoy!

At times I feel very inadequate as a parent. Like when the boys are sick. Nowhere in the parenting books does it tell you how to deal with vomit.

I’m changing 2 ½ year old Michael’s diaper on his bedroom floor and 4 month old Nicholas is lying next to him. Michael begins coughing uncontrollably and the next thing I know he’s throwing up all over himself. Reflexively I stand him up, where he finishes vomiting. His shirt is soaked, the floor is now spotted in dark pink, and I have vomit on me. For a moment I’m frozen like a deer in headlights - I don’t know what to do first. Do I clean off my hands or get a towel to clean the floor or Michael’s face and shirt? I’m thankful that Nicholas didn’t get any on him – that would have created a second wave of dumbfoundedness. I quickly run to the bathroom rinse my hands and grab a towel to wipe off Michael’s face. Then I race back to my crying son.

I am faced with the dilemma of how to take off his shirt without getting vomit all over his head. I opt with the backwards removal by drawing the back of his shirt over his head hair first so as to minimize exposure to the face. Now it’s off to the bathroom for an impromptu but well needed bath. In between washing Michael’s toes and fingers I go to his bedroom and scrub the carpet to get rid of the stain and the stench. One hour later Michael is cozy in pajamas and the vomit crisis has been almost forgotten.

Being only 2 ½ years into this parenting thing I haven’t had a lot of experience in the art of vomit. I guess vomit removal isn’t one of those innate parenting skills like boo boo kissing. It’s like any other messy situation that kids create – you just deal with it as best you can and someday perhaps handling it will become second nature.

How did my mom manage when my brother and I were sick? I don’t recall her hesitating for a second. I remember warm hugs and lots of kisses and cold cloths against my forehead. I remember her soothing my fears with a simple “Shh, Mom’s here,” as she wiped my face. I remember being surrounded with love and knowing that I would get well because my mom was taking care of me.

I hope that’s what Michael and Nicholas will remember about being sick when they are older - the hugs and kisses and love – and not the traumatic stuff like when I inadvertently shot liquid Motrin up Michael’s nose when he bumped the cup as I was lifting it to his mouth, or the pain that he went through when he had Nursemaid’s Elbow. Nicholas hasn’t been sick much so far but I’m sure there will be instances that I hope he doesn’t remember.

I recently asked my mom the best way to clean up vomit. She hesitated as if she’d forgotten (or just put those memories in a far dark corner of her brain), but then told me to scrub it with “a lot of soapy water.” And, I am learning, a lot of love. Thanks, Mom.

Have you had any experiences with vomit or have you perfected the art of cleaning up vomit? Send me an e-mail or comment on this blog - I'm still trying to learn how to deal with it!

The First Day - Part Two

Well, I'm happy to report that Michael's first day of kindergarten went off without a hitch. Unless you count me coming unglued in the shower as a hitch. Which I did.

Bright and early at 6:50 I woke Michael up. He was in a deep sleep and hard to wake up but when he did I've never seen him get dressed so quickly. Phase one complete, I said to myself.

He picked through his breakfast, eating only part of his french toast. He complained of a tummy ache, which I immediately chalked up to nerves, and excused him from the table to go brush his teeth.

After teeth brushing it was time to put on the shoes. Not just any shoes, but tie shoes, ones he doesn't know how to operate just yet. His teacher said that was fine because she ties a lot of shoes and likes to help teach the kids to tie their own shoes. Score another point for her!

I like to be on time or even early, but my family does not and does their best to torture me by dilly dallying so we are always late. Amazingly enough, however, we were ready to go by 7:30, the time I had targeted to get out the door. That way we would be on time for sure: 5 minutes to walk to the bus stop that was just down at the end of our street, and 10 minutes to wait for the bus, which is what the bus notice suggested. Phase 2 complete.

So, backpack on his back and head held high, Michael set out for his first day of kindergarten. He looked so confident and unafraid. He looked so sure of himself. He looked like a kindergartener.

Of course no one else showed up at the bus stop until about 3 minutes before the bus came. They'd already had their first day of school so the newness of the experience had worn off for them. When we did see that big yellow vehicle making its way down the street, I had to ward off a lump in my throat in order to tell Michael that his bus was coming.

I took a deep breath. Here it is, I thought, that one defining moment that every parent both looks forward to and dreads at the same time - their child getting on the bus for the first day of school.

When the bus stopped, all the kids lined up and Michael followed. I had to pull him back in order to give him a hug - he was so anxious to get on that bus. I couldn't even squeak out an "I love you" because I knew it would cause me to cry and I didn't want to cry in front of him.

And just like that he was on the bus and in his seat. He didn't even look back at me as he got on the bus. No separation anxiety here. We could see him through the window and he waved to us and we waved back to him. Luckily for me the bus driver diverted my attention from the enormity of the moment by telling us that from now on bus pickup wouldn't be until 8:00. Fifteen more minutes to sleep, I thought. Hurrah! Then she closed the doors and drove away, carrying my very precious cargo.

All day long I wished I could be a fly on the wall of Michael's classroom. As Nicholas and I finished our breakfast I wondered what Michael was doing. Would he remember how to get to his classroom? Would he remember where to put his lunchbox and backback? Would his confidence remain or would he suddently turn shy as he sometimes does in new situations?

Finally at 3:20 it was time to go meet Michael's bus. Both Nicholas and I were anxious to see him as we had both missed him. The bus was on time and Michael was, of course, the last one to emerge.

"Hi buddy!" I cried as I knelt down and enfolded him in my open arms for a great big bear hug. "How was your first day of kindergarten?"

"It was great!" he said as he hugged me back with all his might, melting into my arms and relieving all of his pent-up anxiety from the day.

"Did you miss me?" I asked as we walked back to the house.

"No," he answered honestly.

"Well, I missed you," I told him.

"Why?" Why indeed! Our children have no idea how hard this day is for their parents!

As I pelleted him with a barrage of questions he eagerly told me about his day, which surprised me as I really didn't expect to get much information from him.

"Mom," he began, "we had two recesses instead of one, and we even got rest time where we got to watch some tv! We had center time and I played in the kitchen and with blocks and I drew lots of pictures and colored. We had music and our we sang songs while our music teacher played the guitar. I had so much fun today, Mom! How many days until I get to go back?"

I gave him another hug and this time it was my pent-up anxiety from the day that was relieved. My little innocent boy had survived his first day of kindergarten unscathed and unchanged. For now.

I'm happy to report that Michael and I have now survived 2 days of kindergarten and each time it gets a little easier to release him to the bus. He even has a new friend, Samantha, a curly haired blonde (of course) who came up to him and asked it he wanted to be her friend. I think he's in love but I don't think I have to worry about losing him to her yet because he said that he still likes food better than her!

Breaking News!

We interrupt this blog for a breaking news flash! Last night Nicholas had his first ever sleepover at his Aunt Janet's house! Without me!

This is the child that, for the past 2 years and 11 months couldn't bear to be away from his mother. He is the poster child for attachment parenting. This is the kid that would cry and panic if he couldn't find me in the house. "Mama, mama, MAMA!" he would cry, and I would reply "Nicholas," to him until he found me, like an out of water Marco Polo game. This is the kid who has slept next to me ever since he was born. And just like that he has a sleepover.

How did he do? He had a few minutes of crying at 1:00 a.m. when he asked to come downstairs and "wait" for us to pick him up. My sister-in-law didn't tell him that we weren't coming, she just sat with him on the couch until he fell asleep. Same thing at 4:00 a.m. Then he woke up at 6:00 for the day.

"Aunt Janet," he said. "Is it morning?"

"Yes, it is Nicholas," she replied.

"I had a sleepover!!" he said excitedly. I can just see the proud look on his face too.

How did I do? Well, I am ecstatic, overjoyed, and over the moon about this accomplishment. I am also very tired - needless to say, I didn't sleep very well. I think we'll both need a nap today!

So many monumental milestones have occurred in the last month for both of my kids - potty training for Nicholas, first day of kindergarten for Michael, first sleepover for Nicholas. Next week Nicholas starts preschool - without me. I've been wondering how he would do with the separation. Now I know.

What's next for him as he eases into his own independance and away from the hold he has on me? I don't know, but bring it on!!!!

The First Day - Part One

Tomorrow is Michael's first official day of kindergarten. Our whole life changes tomorrow. He's looking so forward to it - to meeting new friends and eating lunch in the cafeteria, but especially taking the bus ride to and from school. He rode it at the kindergarten orientation he went to on Tuesday and thought it was great fun.


The orientation was interesting. Neither of us had any idea of what to expect. I told Michael that he would get to see his classroom and meet his teacher again and see all the other kids that were going to be in his class, but beyond that I wasn't sure what we would do.


I wasn't far off the mark. When we went into the classroom we were greeted by Michael's teacher, Mrs. N. She remembered him right away (I told him later that he had made a good first impression when he gave her flowers at the Meet the Teacher picnic). She then handed me two folders: one was Michael's school folder and the other contained the PTO (that's Parent Teacher Organization for you school newbies) information. Inside Michael's school folder was a parent's dream - it contained enough information to answer all of my questions, plus some! This is a teacher that I can love, I thought.

Our task that day was to participate in an informal, self-directed scavenger hunt around the classroom, completing tasks such as finding the bathroom, finding the sink and washing hands, reading a story at the reading pad (of course all the stories were about starting school and I was hard pressed to find one that wouldn't make me cry - I failed at that), and doing a craft project that would later be posted in the hallway.




Then came the bus ride. Parents and kids got to ride and ask questions. Much to my relief I learned that any bus worries I might have are unfounded. When Michael gets off the bus at school the first day he will be directed to his room and won't have a chance to get lost. And when he rides the bus home he'll have a "Bus Buddy" who will help him choose the right bus to get on.

The hour went by so fast that I barely had time to take a picture of Michael with his teacher before it was time to go. Michael hadn't really had the chance to meet any new friends but I assured him that he would have no problems on the first day since he is the best friend maker I know. Michael had been a little nervous before the orientation but now that he was familiar with the school and his room his nervousness turned into excitement for his real first day.

Tonight as I lay in bed with him we talked about his first day tomorrow.

"Are you scared?" I asked him.

"No, I'm not," he replied. "I'm excited to ride the bus and meet new friends." That's my boy.

I, however, am not looking forward to tomorrow morning. It is going to be a rude awakening. For one thing, we are quite out of practice at getting up before 8:00. But now we have to get up before 7:00 for him to catch the bus by 7:45. There's a lot to do in that hour too: get dressed, eat breakfast, brush teeth, put shoes and coat on, gather up backpack and lunch. I could do all that in 30 minutes or less. My child, however, is slower than a snail and sometimes thinks his name is "Come on!" I swear I'm considering having him wear his school clothes to bed just to save some time in the morning. We did a practice run this morning and it took him 25 minutes alone just to eat breakfast!

However, we laid out his clothes before he went to bed and I have his backpack and lunch all ready to go. And I'm making him a relatively fast breakfast to eat (french toast and bacon). We should be able to do this morning thing tomorrow.

Regretably my own mom won't be here for Michael's first day of school (she's in Italy celebrating her 40th wedding anniversary with my dad). So tomorrow I'll have to recall the wisdom she wrote to me before she left for her trip:

"June 9, 2003...you became a mother. A job that will last a lifetime and one that changes like the colors of a kaleidoscope. You immersed yourself into motherhood, giving Michael your undivided attention, love, and support. You nurtured his imagination, his zeal for knowledge, and his creativity. You carefully selected his books, his television viewing, and his playmates. You monitored his food, kissed his boo-boos, helped him recover from imagined hurts, and encouraged him in all of his pursuits.

September 2008...Michael begins kindergarten. And now your protected little boy makes his first venture from the nest...to a world that belongs to him. Where he will need to make friends, negotiate challenges, abide by rules, and be responsible for himself.

You've laid the groundwork and have given your little boy so much to carry him in his school life. He has confidence that his world is safe, he has a healthy body, he has exuberance for learning, and he has a compassionate heart.

So as you prepare for this first step away from home, remember the wise words of Erma Bombeck who said:

'Parenting is like flying a kite. We work so hard to create and make it as perfect as we can. And then we launch it...running with it to make it fly higher and higher...further and further from our sight. And when it gets to its apex we let it go.'"

I'm letting go, Mom, really I am. One finger at a time.

Watch for part two of this blog - a full report of Michael's first day of school. In it I will answer these questions: Did he make any friends (probably)? Did I cry as I put him on the bus (of course!)? Did Nicholas cry because he couldn't go with Michael to school?