Both of my children think it's uncool to hang with their parents now. It used to just be Schuyler, but now it's Sam, too. He hit puberty last month. One stray hair and his parents are pariahs. He explained to me that no kid in puberty can (willingly) be seen with his parents. In the event that they are, the pubescent kid must repeatedly roll his eyes at said parents. Honestly, we can't get our children to go to the movies with us, play ball, take a walk, shop. Correction, Schuyler WILL shop with me if I'll buy her something.
Anyway, last week Mark and I decided to declare Sunday night "family night." From now on, every Sunday, we will all go out to eat together as a family. The kids whined and complained at the news, so we added a proviso. Not only would we go out to eat on Sundays, but we'd dispense allowance at dinner. No dinner, no money. My son thinks it's pathetic that we have to bribe them to spend time with us and he's right. But so what, I say.
We went to America (the restaurant) last Sunday. It turned out to be their last week in business - they closed on Tuesday. Mark tried to buy the Statue of Liberty they have in the bar, but the manager said "no." I don't know where we would have put it anyway. To everyone's surprise, it was fun. For the first time in weeks, all four of us were together laughing and enjoying each other's company. For two lovely hours, the children forgot that they were supposed to shun us. I'm looking forward to this week's Family night. My son is asking where we'll go, like he's really looking forward to it. That's progress.
On an unrelated subject, Schuyler decided that she loves the smell of men's deodorant so she now sprays her room with Brut. The whole house smells like Mark's underarms. I don't know what to do about it.
Saturday, March 19, 2005