After life . . . afterlife?

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, my 10 year old son is pondering life, and the afterlife, with his 11 year old pal Josh and the rest of the family.

He says "I wonder what happens after we die. I mean, is that just it? Do we come back as angels? People? Do our spirits go in animals? Is there an afterlife?"

We try not to push to much theology on them . . . after all, our kids are starting to turn out as logical as the two of us, so cramming something down their throat is just going to lead to an interrogation later in life.

I piped up. "Well, I think there at least has to be some kind of recycling program . . . "

To which my 10 year old replied, "Well, hopefully not for everyone."

When I questioned him about it, assuming this was going to lead to a discussion about the relative merits of good guys and bad guys, he threw this one out there . . .

"Well, some people are like slinkies . . . not good for anything, really, but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs."

I think I've become his straight man.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

I Could Just Bite Him . . .

Every mother thinks their kids are adorable. I have emperical evidence to back up my claim.

While the man of the house was out driving Ferraris, I was playing mom. A good mom, I think. Ok, I played hot mom the other night at the 'track . . .

So I'm making lunch for the boys. Easy stuff. Mac 'n Cheese and some sweet peas. Son #1 is in a rush - he's got friends to play with and a wicked game of Zelda in progress. So he wolfs down his food. The au pair ate quickly and took off.

I sat there with Son #2, reading the paper, while he struggled to keep peas on the fork.

"Hey Mom, know what?" he asked. "This is kind of like a date."

I snickered at his cuteness. Which made him think that I didn't understand. So he continued . . .

"You know? Like when two people are alone? And they do stuff together like eat and stuff?"

I hid my smile this time.

He's so cute . . . I could just bite him!

But remind me to check out what kind of shows my 5-year old is watching that he knows about dates . . .

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Does Life Come with a Remote and Does it Have a Pause Button?

I struggle with time management these days. I work full time (senior management, read more than 50 hours per week, minimum). I commute 1-2 hours per day to do this work. I raise two children. I have no spouse right now to help with shopping and homework and changing air filters and taillights in cars and parent teacher conferences.

There is no chicken or fruit or toaster waffles or dishwasher soap in the house right now.

The last "date" I had was dinner. One month ago. With my au pair.

Poker? I haven't played poker in 4 days.

I should not complain. With two incomes, I pay someone to clean my toilets. I pay someone to tend my yard. I pay a young woman to live in my house so that my 10-year old does not come home to an empty house and so that my two children have someone to eat breakfast with so that I can start my wicked commute. I pay a preschool to help my youngest son learn to read and write.

Today, while I dried my hair, my littlest man came into my bedroom with pen and paper. "How do you spell 'house'?" he asked. As he lay on his stomach on the floor in his SpongeBob briefs, I stopped to help him remember what an "H" looks like, congratulated him on how nice his "S" looked, and helped him spell new words. Then I realized I was going to be late for a 9:00 meeting and started rushing around. And today was the deadline for benefits registration. And I had to have the audit committee materials ready by noon.

I'd like to take more time to help him explore this new world of writing, go to a movie by myself, shop for apples and dishsoap and a new book without it being a sprint. I'd like to have 30 minutes to sit with my oldest son and have him tell me about the latest Spiderwick book he just read. I'd like to skip the audit committee meeting to take time to help my new staff understand what she's doing so she doesn't feel so lost when I'm busy. I'd like to take time to write my awesome administrative assistant a performance review, then take her to lunch to talk about it. I'd like to call my friends and relatives from the comfort of my couch to catch up, rather than on my hands-free device while I drive home.

If one of you finds the remote, can you just hit the "pause" button for me?

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife