Somer Thompson

Everyone here is talking about the horrific death of 7-year-old Somer Thompson.  She was walking home from school Monday afteroon when she vanished.  She was with her twin brother and her older sister.  Today, her body was found in a landfill.

Everyone here is talking about it because it happened HERE.  It happened 20 minutes away from where I live.

What do I do with this information?

Do I become an overprotective parent?  I mean, I already AM an overprotective parent.  I’m a helicopter. I hover.  I am constantly holding my kids’ hands and they know there is a “time out” in their future if they run away from me for a second when we are out in public. 

I guess I never really thought about someone taking them away from me.  Until now.

After Somer’s disappearance, my husband and I started researching GPS tracking devices for children.  There are a bunch on the market.  Most are expensive, but all of them do the job.  They let you monitor your kid’s EVERY MOVE.  Everywhere they go.  Has it come to this?

A woman called into my husband’s radio show this morning with an awesome point.  She said that you can’t sit and think about someone snatching your kid or something bad happening  to them ALL THE TIME.  That would drive us all crazy and create an awful environment of fear for our children.

While the local news was updating us about Somer’s body possibly being found in a landfill, I was on two scheduled preschool tours for Bean.  It was just weird timing.  I’m about to send my little boy out into the world without me.  I really like the school that has locked and coded entrances.

Then, last night I watched Oprah on TIVO and the show was about the happiest people on earth and where they live.  Oprah interviewed families in Copenhagen, Denmark.  One Copenhagen couple felt so happy and safe, they actually left their babies to nap unattended in their backyard. They said crimes, and especially sexual crimes and kidnapping, were basically nonexistent.   Should I move to Copenhagen?

No. I love my country and I would never want to live anywhere else.  But today, I did look over my shoulder a little more when I was out with my kids.  I did give them lots of extra kissies. I maybe hugged them a little longer. 

And I also said prayers for our new angel Somer and for her Mama who’s arms will always ache for the daughter she has just lost.

A Suburban Life

When did living in a nice house in the suburbs with two kids, a dog, and a minivan (and MAYBE a white picket fence) become something people DIDN’T want?

The hubbie and I rented Revolutionary Road on Netflix last weekend.  Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet’s performances were really amazing and heart-wrenching.  Kate Winslet is one of my favorite actors. I definitely give the movie an “A” for being a very well done dramatic film.  But what was up with the message?  Since when did living in suburbia equal a death sentence?  By moving to the suburbs and starting a family, you are essentially giving up all your dreams of adventure and success and now must resign yourself to the fact that you will live a dull and ordinary life and never be “special.” Seriously?

My husband, who is a morning radio host, was talking to his co-workers this week about a fun topic to discuss on his radio show: Should we buy a minivan. We have been talking about it more and more lately, especially after all our long family road trips. I’ve always wanted a top of the line decked out minivan. But, maybe we should stick with a large SUV?  Well, the singletons in his office just GASPED at the mere thought of us purchasing a minivan. 

 ”A minivan?”  “NOOOO!  Don’t do it!!”  Their reaction made me think that buying a minivan would automatically make us “uncool.” Really?

Well, let me just say that I LIKE living in the suburbs.  It really is a dream come true, not something I felt resigned to do.  I was excited to get married, have kids, and live in an amazing suburban neighborhood.  I want the sidewalks and the green grass and the trees and the playground down the street.  I want to wave to my neighbors while they mow their lawn.  Or invite the mom next door over for coffee.  I want to help carpool.  I WANT a minivan. 

Hi, my name is Pam and I want to be a soccer mom. And I’m proud of it.

Hot, Hot, Hot…

…and getting HOTTER.

The months of June, July, and August are BRUTAL in Florida.  We are all relegated to our lovely air conditioned homes.  (Although today, I was desperately pleading with my AC unit to PLEASE move down below 79.  PRETTY please??)  I equate this weather we are experiencing to a northern snow storm.  I’m just forced to be creative with indoor activities.   “Creative” is not my strong suit, so I usually just end up spreading bins of toys into different play areas in the house.   I can give Daniel and Annabel the “illusion” that we are in some super cool indoor play zone.  This usually doesn’t last very long, so I’m so thankful for the following: Our public library, Gymboree, the indoor shopping mall, Barnes & Noble and its train table, and the POOL.  The only time we can all hang outdoors is if we are immersed in some sort of water and slathered with SPF 50 (if there was an SPF 100, I would use it.)  It’s even too hot to hang in the shade.  We bought the kids a water table, but that lasted five minutes.

At least “Beez” uses it.

Sunday night

It’s Sunday night. I still get that weird Sunday night ”feeling.”  It’s the same Sunday night feeling from high school when I realized the fun weekend was over. My parents would tell me to get off the phone and I would be sitting in my bedroom all alone doing homework. It’s the same Sunday night feeling from college when I would be in my dorm room waiting for my roommate to get back from a weekend visiting her boyfriend.  The dining hall was closed so I would be eating Ooodles of Noodles from a Styrofoam cup trying to study.  It’s the same Sunday night feeling from my days working in an office.  I would lay in the bed with my hubbie watching TV or reading a magazine, just wishing we had ONE MORE DAY to hang out.  It’s a mix of anxiety, sadness, and anticipation of the week ahead.  I always thought it was a school thing.  Then I thought it was a work thing.  But it’s a stay-at-home mom thing too.  It’s the feeling that I’m not prepared for another busy week of scheduled activities and unknown toddler occurrences.  It’s that weird “calm before the storm” feeling.  It’s Sunday night.