Twisted Family Antics

I read a copy of Family Fun magazine this morning and was so anxious and intently aware of my shortcomings by the time I hit the ads in the back that I could barely get out of my chair afterwards.

The families all look so happy and ecstatic to be together!

Travel expenses alone would kick your ass if you followed the dictates of this magazine.  And then there’s the cost of everything else . . .

In one picture a mom looks serenely beautiful as her four daughters wear different shades of pink and orange.  Their shoes, tights, skirts and sweaters all combine for a magical look of sweetness and innocence.

I have ONE daughter.  Before we left the house she would be sitting on her floor screaming in agony that the tights were climbing up her crotch, we would never be able to find the matching sweater, and if we did she would refuse to wear it.  The word “cooch” would be volleyed back and forth several times.

I immediately begin flogging myself with certainty in the belief that if only I’d had one or two more children our lives would be perfect.  I’m practically catatonic with grief that I’ve ruined my daughter’s life by raising her with no siblings near her own age.  I’m in a panic that now it’s just the three of us and that somehow is not good enough.

Then there’s the fact that my daughter doesn’t even LIKE other children.

There are recipes for shrimp quesadillas and grill your own salsa, and I wonder if other people’s kids eat such things.

Because mine would not, ever, in this lifetime. 

I discover that the WACKJOB West family of Kissimmee, Florida, painted their kitchen cabinets with chalkboard paint so their kids can draw and play games while Mom and Dad cook. 

Do you think they ever considered the burn factor?  I can see myself explaining to the doctors in the ER that I had this great idea regarding chalkboard paint.  The look on their open-mouthed faces spells M-O-R-O-N.

The magazine also contained a recipe for making a racket with 12 pieces of PVC pipe and 30 large rubber bands.

I wonder if anyone told these people about the new invention called a “tennis racket.”

The Lin family of Dyer, Indiana has converted their dining room into a craft studio.  The mom says that the happy look on her daughter’s face makes it all worthwhile.

My friend Nancy turned her living room into a space for the family cat, which is about as practical.  Her cat is especially pleased.

And then I fondly remember my own mother taping a crayon-colored picture over the hole in the wall behind my father’s head at the dining room table, where she’d thrown the sugar bowl at him.

It’s such a weird twist of fate when my own childhood starts sounding normal and provides me with unexpected solace.