Domestic Psychology

this IS the good stuff

// December 31st, 2012 // 2 Comments » // children, holidays

Dad and Professor Teen went camping yesterday, so the two youngest and I huddled under blankets in our basement bedroom and watched Stardust. SuperTween declared it her new favorite movie. Since the answer to “what was your previous favorite” was The Hobbit, I suspect that whatever she watched most recently is her favorite. I’ll have to test that theory with a viewing of something super boring like, Antz.

Tonight’s schedule might include a movie in bed, but it definitely will include games. New Year’s Eve is not the only night for board and card games, but it is the night when we let the children stay up late playing them. Several years ago, the youngest children were sound asleep in sleeping bags on the living room floor while we sat beside them playing a board game with the teens. At midnight, someone announced the time and a teen replied, “Happy New Year, now roll the dice.” That was a perfect New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t the hour on the clock that made the evening special. It was everything else. It was everyone in the room. It was the good stuff.

No matter who you spend tonight with or how you spend it, may it be your version of perfect.

marching bands grow grapefruit

// December 18th, 2012 // No Comments » // food, kid quotes

“Our Christmas grapefruit is here!”
“How do you know that it’s grapefruit? It could be oranges or pears.”
“Oranges and pears come from the grocery. Grapefruit comes in a box from UPS.”

Maybe we should buy grapefruit more often.

Occupy PEACE

// December 7th, 2011 // No Comments » // flickr, holidays

The case FOR holiday cards

// December 5th, 2011 // 3 Comments » // holidays, mail

All year long, I use email, SMS and social networks to communicate with people. I leave a lot of digital footprints, but nothing that would survive a terrible magnet attack. The exception is the card that I mail every Christmas season. Since I have read several anti-card posts this week, I am going to attempt to explain why I am pro-cards.

1. Making the card is a memory that I treasure. While photographing this year’s card, one of the children declared that their arms were going to fall off their body. Doug and I spontaneously stopped what we were doing, extended our arms to our sides and made little circles. “Now, spin counter-clockwise.” Every card we make has stories.

2. The picture is a snapshot of a moment in time that captures a year of growth, personality and relationships. Someday, I hope that the children look back and notice their older sibling interacting with them in the card pictures. I see the changes from year to year as I learn what does and does not work when photographing a diverse group of children.

3. Christmas cards are one of the only pieces of mail that are neither junk nor bills. Remember when mail actually brought letters and cards? That kind of excitement at the arrival of the mail carrier is something that is almost extinct.

4. Mail is an endangered species. It will cease to exist in my lifetime. I will celebrate the nostalgia of the USPS for as long as it exists. When it goes away, so will Christmas cards.

5. Christmas cards from other people are contributions to our holiday decor. Serious, silly and other images that make our Christmas more diverse, colorful and nostalgic.

6. Cards from years past move old memories out of pine needle littered boxes and into the present. Babies that are now teenagers, friends that have moved far away and loved ones who have left us are temporarily with us again. It’s important to remember.

7. Christmas cards make me happy. Everyone needs more happy.

Doug <\3 holidays

// May 6th, 2011 // No Comments » // Doug, holidays

Doug: “What do you want for Mother’s Day?”
Me: “A new splash screen.”
Doug: “What do you want me to BUY you for Mother’s Day?”
Me: “You can give me a new splash screen for my birthday.”

St. Patrick’s Day

// March 16th, 2011 // No Comments » // holidays, me

As a child, we were not allowed to wear green on St. Patrick’s Day. My father’s speech sounded something like, “That is not a Christian holiday and as Americans, we don’t support the IRA mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah.” All I heard was, “You’re gonna get pinched.” I should make a big deal about St. Patrick’s Day just to maintain my black sheep cred, but I don’t.

For my children, St. Patrick’s Day has changed from wearing green and bruising classmates’ forearms to wearing green, making leprechaun traps and not violating anyone’s personal space. That’s a step toward holiday improvement for them, so yay for St. Patrick’s Day as a children’s holiday. For adults, it is a claim to be Irish and drink too much holiday. Neither of those methods of celebrating sound like fun to me. The descendants of Irish immigrants in rural middle TN don’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, but every single college student seems to celebrate it. Since college students celebrate putting on their pants in the morning (or afternoon), they’re not really celebrating this particular holiday as much as they are changing the color of their alcohol for one night.

I do NOT want to squabble with those who claim to be Irish when they can’t even name their relative who immigrated to America. I have my great grandmother’s steamer trunk from her trip to America in my closet, but I don’t get wasted on Gathering Day. If communities start having St.Patrick’s Day celebrations with traditional Irish food, dancing and snakes, I might get excited about the holiday. Green beer? No thank you. Big cities have parades and green rivers that sound like fun. Knoxville just has pub crawls and that makes St. Patrick’s Day equal in priority to Snuggies. So, for now, I will just wear green . . . in front of my father.

12 Days of Christmas (our version)

// December 23rd, 2009 // No Comments » // holidays, siblings

On the first day of Christmas, my children gave to me, one lump on the head.
On the second day of Christmas, my children gave to me, two different black eyes.
On the third day of Christmas, my children gave to me, three hangnails.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my children gave to me, four headaches.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my children gave to me, five thorns in fingers.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my children gave to me, six bloody noses.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my children gave to me, seven lashes stuck in eyes.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my children gave to me, eight contusions from falls.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my children gave to me, nine tummy aches.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my children gave to me, ten hurt feelings.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my children gave to me, 11 skinned up knees.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my children gave to me, 12 broken Christmas lights in someone’s foot.

redecorating the tree

// December 19th, 2009 // 1 Comment » // holidays, pets, preschoolers

A. Evan moves the ornaments from the middle of the tree to the bottom of the tree.
B. The dogs knock the ornaments to the floor.
C. I move the ornaments from the floor to the middle of the tree.
D. Repeat. All the day long.

Earth Day Evan

// April 22nd, 2009 // No Comments » // flickr, preschoolers

Absolutely beautiful days are perfect for silly fun.

Valentine’s Day – senior style

// February 15th, 2009 // 7 Comments » // holidays, music, relatives, sandwich generation

Friday afternoon, my father called and asked me if I could fill one of those “music players you put in your pocket” with romantic songs. After telling him it’s called an ipod, I told him it wouldn’t be a problem. Then he clarified that by romantic music, he meant “good stuff like Andy Williams or Perry Como.” I could have easily supplied him with love songs from any decade, all the way back to the 70′s but 1950′s music? Eek! I scoured itunes and sampled song after song. You know, today’s musicians may be debaucherous, but there sure were a lot of male singers with soprano voices in the 50′s. They were doing strange things back then too. Eventually I combined two songs from the “Running with Scissors” soundtrack and one from the “Rushmore” soundtrack with half a dozen songs from artists who are extremely dead. What’s that? One of them still performs in Vegas? Seriously? Wow. Anyway, the ipod was emptied of everything except the requested music. One hour before the scheduled ipod pickup my father called me again. “Did you put “Love Me Tender” on there? I want that song.” Mmkay. The requested song was acquired and added.

My father walked in the house, took the pouch concealing the ipod and refused any directions from me. Then, he wandered off to talk to Tommy for a bit. Ten minutes later, my father rushed out the door to his “Valentine’s dinner” date. Did I mention that it was 10 in the morning? Please don’t let me ever start referring to 11 a.m. meals as dinner. A little while later, Tommy came upstairs to inhale the contents of the fridge. I asked him what his grandfather wanted to talk about. “He asked me how you turn an ipod on and where the volume switch is on it.”

An hour later my mother called. “Your father just stood up in Olive Garden and sang an Elvis song to me.” I feel like I helped perpetrate a crime against every person having “dinner” at the Olive Garden on Valentine’s Day morning.