Christina M. Currie
Christina M. Currie's Touch of Spice column appears Fridays in the Craig Daily Press. E-mail her at firstname.lastname@example.org
Craig Two weeks ago, I was in Florida, laughing with glee as I saw pictures of home where cars were covered in eight inches of snow.
I stopped laughing when I came home to more snow in the merry month of May.
Is it better to get away for a week and have those memories, no matter how hard they make returning?
I guess it depends on whether you're one of those "'tis better to have loved and lost," people.
It took me a lot longer to get back into the groove than it did my children.
Children are much more adaptable, that's for sure.
They've managed to take the best of there and bring it home.
They learned a few things, too, that I'd rather they hadn't.
We were on day four before we realized that the kids were feeling less like it was their vacation and more like it was a big lie.
For months, my friend Melanie and I had used Disney World as a lever for everything from getting kids to eat dinner to keeping them quiet in the toy aisle.
I know 7-year-old Katie felt like she chose poorly when she gave up her ideal princess dress for Disney World.
On day five, we decided to change that. We told the kids that it was their day. They would be in charge of where we went, what we did and how we did it.
That simple statement sparked more enthusiasm than we'd seen for days. It's sad when you're at Disney World and your kids groan when you tell them it's time to get out of bed.
That morning, our combined kids jumped out of bed, saying "we're in charge today!"
We got a lot of bang for our buck that day.
Six-, 7- and 8-year-old children have few leadership and even fewer planning skills. Before we even got through the gate at Epcot Center, we adults were back in charge. But, by that time, we didn't have the energy to care, so it was easy to be in charge in such a way that it didn't feel like we were.
Adults probably should do that more often.
We're back, and my girls at least, still are clinging to that concept. They keep asking me, "are we in charge today?"
Some days, it's a welcome question.
On days when it's not, my answer generally is a growl.
Six-year-old Nikki decided to skip the question and just take the lead. She received a badge dubbing her as an honorary junior Craig police officer at school (no more school for her) and that badge, she believed, gave her all the power she needed.
"You're under arrest," she said while we were eating dinner.
I looked at my friend, trying to determine whether it was he or I she was speaking to.
Seven-year-old Katie said she should arrest me.
"He's fun, she makes us clean our room."
Nikki was of a different frame of mind.
"Him. He looks scarier."
Another ouch. I told Nikki there was a term for that. Profiling. And that she'd never make it in law enforcement in this day and age.
It didn't matter. Someone was going to jail.
That is, until mom took the badge and said no one was going to be arrested until dinner was finished.
Bottom line. I'm always in charge. But I'll let them think they are.