My parenting skills and style leave nothing to be desired. Unless you have a conscience and high standards, that is. But whatever.
My kids really wanted to go to the corn maze which sounds quite harmless except that what companies have done to corn mazes is what commercialism has done to Christmas. I knew it would be an exhausting endeavor. Still, I found a deal, dug up coupons and realized I really needed an extra 5 or 6 year old for babysitting purposes. I called my sister and begged her to give up her son to me on a Saturday afternoon. Done.
So with the kids in the van I drove over to pick up the cousin who, unfortunately, had just had a fight with his brother and was sulking. He didn't want to go. That simply was not an option. I needed him, sulking and all. His dad tried to brush me off. Fortunately, his mother, my sister, shares my parenting style and she drove up just in time. She picked up her son, pushed him into the van, closed the door and I locked it and drove away.
Because we're good like that.
One minute later she called to tell me that her husband disagreed with our style and I should bring the child home. I told her no and if Chad really wanted him, he'd have to find me. Call it Tough Love or call it Lazy Parenting but I know I'm not nearly as fun as a cousin. Chad couldn't track me down so I got to keep Caleb.
Once at the corn maze, I realized the daunting task at hand. I handed the older two a go-phone (the 5th one this year) with the strictest of orders to never lost sight of each other, handed them $20 and told them to eat and see you in three hours when we check in. Bye.
We spent a full hour on the jumping toys ("we" is a term I use loosely). They were holding hands, holding feet, and falling all over each other.
Most of our time was spent playing on bales of hay, crawling through tubes, going down slides, and playing on toys that are on the grounds year round and we only had one incident where Caleb didn't think he had to tell his aunt that he was wandering off. After ten frantic minutes, I saw him meandering back. I then tattooed both boys on their arms with a pen: If you find me, please call (***)-------. Next time I'll take a magic marker.
Eventually we did catch up with the older two but they had tickets to the haunted portions. Why does "haunted" always seem to equate to "bloody clown heads"? Continuing on that thought, why would anybody hire a clown for a child's birthday party? They're heads are creepy even attached to their bodies.
Remember Lily Tomlin's Edith Ann skit where she sits in a big chair and she's five and a half? I really wanted to buy myself a great big lollipop and sit in it like Edith Ann.
Overall, a really good time. Caleb had a good time despite the way the women in his life ganged up on him.
My kids really wanted to go to the corn maze which sounds quite harmless except that what companies have done to corn mazes is what commercialism has done to Christmas. I knew it would be an exhausting endeavor. Still, I found a deal, dug up coupons and realized I really needed an extra 5 or 6 year old for babysitting purposes. I called my sister and begged her to give up her son to me on a Saturday afternoon. Done.
So with the kids in the van I drove over to pick up the cousin who, unfortunately, had just had a fight with his brother and was sulking. He didn't want to go. That simply was not an option. I needed him, sulking and all. His dad tried to brush me off. Fortunately, his mother, my sister, shares my parenting style and she drove up just in time. She picked up her son, pushed him into the van, closed the door and I locked it and drove away.
Because we're good like that.
One minute later she called to tell me that her husband disagreed with our style and I should bring the child home. I told her no and if Chad really wanted him, he'd have to find me. Call it Tough Love or call it Lazy Parenting but I know I'm not nearly as fun as a cousin. Chad couldn't track me down so I got to keep Caleb.
Once at the corn maze, I realized the daunting task at hand. I handed the older two a go-phone (the 5th one this year) with the strictest of orders to never lost sight of each other, handed them $20 and told them to eat and see you in three hours when we check in. Bye.
We spent a full hour on the jumping toys ("we" is a term I use loosely). They were holding hands, holding feet, and falling all over each other.
Most of our time was spent playing on bales of hay, crawling through tubes, going down slides, and playing on toys that are on the grounds year round and we only had one incident where Caleb didn't think he had to tell his aunt that he was wandering off. After ten frantic minutes, I saw him meandering back. I then tattooed both boys on their arms with a pen: If you find me, please call (***)-------. Next time I'll take a magic marker.
Eventually we did catch up with the older two but they had tickets to the haunted portions. Why does "haunted" always seem to equate to "bloody clown heads"? Continuing on that thought, why would anybody hire a clown for a child's birthday party? They're heads are creepy even attached to their bodies.
Remember Lily Tomlin's Edith Ann skit where she sits in a big chair and she's five and a half? I really wanted to buy myself a great big lollipop and sit in it like Edith Ann.
Overall, a really good time. Caleb had a good time despite the way the women in his life ganged up on him.
We just took our YW to a corn maze for an activity and yours looked much more fun. I guess I am missing the appeal...
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