A few weeks ago my husband James had a conversation with one of our neighbors that rubbed him the wrong way.  This was a man that we hadn’t met before even though he lives at the end of our block.  James felt that the man’s behavior during their conversation was erratic and even more cause for alarm was the fact that the neighbor mentioned our son.  Our son walks Chili Dawg the puppy every evening and obviously the neighbor had noticed as well, but according to James, the man was a little too interested in The Boy.    He told our son to stay clear of that neighbor and me too.  I didn’t think much of it until I was walking the dog myself one morning and the neighbor called out to me–thinking that I was The Boy (we do look alike).  I kept walking and later confirmed my husband’s suspicions to our son–stay away from that man.   We couldn’t quite put our finger on it, but there was something “not quite right” about him.

In general my husband is very trusting and open to everyone; he’s one of those people who talks to strangers on the plane and in line at the grocery store.   On the other hand, I am not like that at all; I do not trust easily and I warm up to people slowly.   But when it comes to our kids, James is more guarded than I am and more concerned about their safety.  Most of the time I soften his safety reigns and let the kids do things–even if it means that they might get hurt.   However, when it comes to “creepy neighbors” I trust his instincts.

And he was right.  The other day I arrived home in the afternoon to see 2 police cars and a police van at the end of my street (not a normal occurrence on my quiet street).  Come to find out that the creepy neighbor was taken away in the van; someone called the police because he was outside brandishing a pitch fork and shouting wildly.    What we didn’t know before–but felt in our interactions with him–is that he has psychiatric problems.   And lately he hadn’t been taking his medication and spiraled out of control.  From what I understand he is a nice guy when he’s on his meds, but can quickly turn irrational when he isn’t.   I think we met him on the down swing.

He didn’t hurt anyone; hopefully he’ll get the help that he needs and resume his medication, but I’m so glad that we trusted our instincts.

© 2009 – 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

I regret not having a 3^rd child.  It’s bluntly said, without any fanfare or fancy introduction sentence because that’s how I’m feeling right now.   Regret is a powerful emotion because it means that you can’t do anything about the situation, but live with it.  Well, technically I can do something about it—have a baby—but considering my husband is quite adamant about leaving our family just the way it is, it’s not really a possibility.  But I’m going to walk it out and let myself explore the possibility of getting pregnant one more time.

While I enjoyed being pregnant twice before, there are things that are not so pleasant: the weight gain, nausea, exhaustion and all the other mysterious ailments that bombard a pregnant body.  And let’s not forget the pain of childbirth, an experience really best forgotten or remembered through the hazy, rose-colored lens of time.

Of course once the baby is here there are the sleepless nights, leaky breasts, endless crying (both me and the baby), constant cleaning and the whole 24/7 of it all.  When would I find any time for me? It’s something that I have slowly grown accustomed to.  I like having the space to explore different parts of me; that would be hard to give up.   With a baby, my day would revolve around nap times, which of course the old saying goes, I really should be napping also.  As much as my mind thinks that I am 25 years old, it’s actually not true (are you as surprised as I am?); I would need to nap!

The truth is that I would be a different kind of parent for the 3^rd child because Gymboree groups and floor play are not as fun as they once were.   I relished those days when I did it, but there are only so many games of Candyland that you can play without wanting to bang your head on the table.  What I once found delightful and fulfilling does not seem appealing to me anymore; I can’t even romanticize it.  I like sleeping all night, wearing clothes free from spit-up and being able to take my children anywhere; naptime meltdowns or tantrums are no longer a threat.  I really enjoy the conversation and fun that I have with my children now.   The last few years of traveling have been so light: no strollers, sippy cups, snacks or toys needed.

Do you know what else I’ve discovered, by having a teenager?  Mothering doesn’t get any easier!  The infant/toddler parenting is physically exhausting, yes, but a piece of cake compared to the anxiety and worry that goes into making sure that you are releasing a decent human being into the world in just a few short years.  I think I know too much now.  It’s probably best to have children all at once—knock them out, as people say—before you have too much time to reflect on what an awesome responsibility you have undertaken.

These are sound arguments for being thankful for the 2 wonderful children that I have and not even consider having a 3^rd–and I’m sure that my husband can come up with many others.   Still I can’t deny that I feel regretful.  Now that I see how fast it goes—zoom!—I wish that I would have been more intentional about planning my family.

© 2009, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

My kids started school today.  Although we will miss the lazy days of summer, they were ready for school to begin and so was I.  Maybe it is because I didn’t have much time out of graduate school before I got married and had kids, but I tend to measure time by the school year rather than the calendar year.  So the end of August/beginning of September is really like the start of a new year–So exciting!  So full of promise!   I can’t wait to sit down with my iCal and plan out a great year for myself.   Maybe I’ll even wander into Staples or Target and pick up a new notebook and pen.

My husband and I both take the kids to school on the first day and walk the youngest into the classroom.  And as always I take photos.  I have always done this; it is tradition.  My daughter happily smiled outside of school and inside the class room as well.  She’s an old pro in 2nd grade now, so we didn’t hang out too long, just long enough to get her settled and take a few shots.

Check out her cool new lunchbox from Lunchboxes.com

On the other hand, this is a photo of my son:

For the first time ever, he refused to let me take his photo on the first day of school.   Today is his first day of high school and I was trying to be sensitive by asking to take the photo in the parking lot with no one remotely nearby.   He willingly gave me a hug and kiss, but he was adamant about not being photographed.   My husband tried to hold his lunchbox hostage until he took the photo, but I told him to give up the lunchbox and let the boy go.  It was a bittersweet start of the new school year.  Let the boy go….I think that we will be doing so much more of that now.

As he walked away, I turned around so he wouldn’t see me cry.

© 2009, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

From ages 4-8 my son took acting classes at a neighborhood theater in our little New Jersey town.  The kids did theater games during each class and the semester finished with a musical; each child had an equal amount of lines and their own solo.  I still remember the first musical, Candyland; my son was Peppermint.  Most of the kids were so frightened of being on stage that they mumbled their lines and whispered their song–they were only 4 years old after all.   But not my son; he stood on that stage and sang “I Fall to Pieces” in the loudest, clearest, sweetest voice.  After the performance a man said to us, “Your son does a great Patsy Cline!”

He went on to play an elephant in The Floating Zoo (based on Noah’s Ark), a turtle in James and the Giant Peach, and Chuckie in Toons On The Loose.  He always gave a good performance and had a great time, but really didn’t think of acting again after we moved to Atlanta.

That is, until last year when he played Winthrop Paroo in his school’s jr. high production of The Music Man.    Although I knew that he was talented at many things, I was very pleasantly surprised by his performance of “Gary Indiana” shown here on YouTube.

As you can see, he had a ball; I think that he has been bitten by the acting bug now.  This week he’s in the jr. high musical, Suessical; here he is on YouTube performing “Monkey Around”.  He just got a part in a fall production of The Sound of Music as well.   Musical theater camp and dance lessons this summer will only tighten his game for the high school productions in the near future.

When you see his name in lights one day, remember you saw him here first!

© 2009, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

My son is on the cover of Atlanta INtown newspaper this month!    Because of his food critic skills on my blog as Captain Cuisine & The Gastro-teens, he was asked to be a part of the newspaper’s burger panel. Atlanta INtown is one of my favorite local newspapers and our family had been following their burger panel for a few years now, so this was an exciting opportunity.  And of course my son loves a good burger!   He had fun testing (eating) different burgers and then comparing notes with the rest of the panel at George’s for a final burger and photo shoot.  

I couldn’t scan the entire article with all the different burger panelists, so be sure to pick up your copy of Atlanta INtown this weekend and read their reviews about the best burgers in Atlanta.    Or stop by my house….I have a few copies lying around!  :-)

© 2009 – 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.