family, humor, motherhood

Snapped (the little rubber bands of the world)

It was small.  Almost microscopic in relation to all the other LEGO components.

It really shouldn’t have mattered, but, oh, did it make my blood boil.

To keep things completely honest, this tiny LEGO part that I am referring to belonged to a gigantic guilt-induced, we-are-moving-you-away-from-family-and-friends LEGO set Mad Dog and I had purchased for T.Puzzle.

It’s a rollercoaster.

The LEGO set, not my emotional well-being.

Scratch that.

Both are a rollercoaster.

Look out, world!

To get back to the tiny part that was missing, let me explain why I was ready to lose my mind.

As you know, moving = chaos.   There are boxes.  There are boxes.  Let me repeat, there are boxes.

And they are everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

And the stuff!  It’s everywhere yet you cannot find what you need to save your life.

So, as T.Puzzle began construction on his rollercoaster, I explicitly said to him:

“Please put these tiny, teeny, very-small-indeed rubber bands SOMEWHERE THAT YOU WON’T LOSE THEM.”


He lost them and with them, my last remaining shred of sanity.

Even as I was disproportionately overreacting to the loss of these rubber bands, I allowed myself a freak out.

I even said out loud, “I realize my reaction does not match what is happening, but, it can’t be helped.”

What added to the comedy (tragedy?), is that all three of my boys kept throwing each other under the bus. Lots of accusations about what had happened to the lost items were bandied about.

Guess how much personal accountability was offered?




Eventually, after some CSI-level maneuverings, the missing pieces materialized.

Mad Dog had ‘stored’ them in our kitchen garbage can.

Moving forward I have two options:

  1. Never buy another LEGO set again
  2. Never move for the rest of my natural life


Recently, it has come to my attention I am a softie for my ‘baby’.  I don’t disagree. See that face?  He’s probably getting more LEGOs.  That is all.








children, gratitude, happiness, mommyhood, tantrums


The several transitions of this week are going, dare I say it…, good. I am seeing the first true glimpses of emotional growth in little T.Puzzle and this has made all the difference. The same development pattern happened with Full Speed, too. Both my boys started with the tantrums at around 18 mos. and carried them well through their third year (I’m pretty sure this isn’t common; I just hit the ‘jack-pot’ with two extra feisty kids).  Full Speed’s  tantrums had some carry over into the fourth year so I know I’m not completely out of the woods with little T.Puzzle.  However,  I’m beginning to see the light of hope peak through the trees. After surviving almost four solid years of tantrums and extreme power struggles, you don’t know how good this feels. And, believe me, I know forest fires of feistiness can pop up any moment, I’m just trying to savor what little victories I can.

Moving to a new class this week is a big deal for little T.Puzzle and he has done really well. Of course the first day started with a lot of ‘nos!’ and crying but he rallied. When I picked him up his new teacher told me that he listened well, cleaned up after himself and she couldn’t ask for more from a new student. Little T.Puzzle is so proud to be in the new ‘big boy’ class that by the second drop-off he politely hugged me and went on his way. I had to double-check to make sure that I hadn’t accidentally grabbed another kid on the way in. I couldn’t believe this was MY little T.Puzzle. See I told you, there is that light again.

The changes of summer have been many and I am thankful my family is weathering them with calm determination. This is so much more preferable than our usual crazy, sobbing-tantrum mode of operation.

I may just survive the boys’ summer after all.