I don't have enough drama in my life. Clearly, it's just another day in the life when my daughter Nora mutters, "I hate my mother". I know she's the baby, but she doesn't get whatever she wants. Instead I see her at the end of a perpetual queue - always waiting to tell me something. I triage her with a finger to my lips and a nod to one of the older kids to continue with their monologue of the moment. Poor Nora, I think. But she is no shrinking violet. She mutters and retaliates, moans and complains. I don't really know what to do to fix it (I've tried a bunch of things). Of course, not all drama is bad drama. I'm fortunate to have children who can't go an hour without singing. In the car, I get to listen to the Willy Wonka soundtrack. Track numbers are shouted from the back seat and I scramble to find them. Around the house, everything is a dance number or a comedy sketch. Zany one-liners are regurgitated ad nausea. Lucky me! Check out Rowan at her cousin's graduation party this summer.
