Author: Emily

At least according to my daughter, it has.

I think Super Nanny would actually be proud.

Kate has always had a, ahem, dramatic side, and since she’s gone to kindergarten it’s gotten worse… especially at bedtime. She used to go to sleep like a dream – books, prayers, hugs and kisses and we’re outta there. But for the last month or so, it’s taken us hours to get her to actually go to sleep. She always needs one more drink of water, one more hug, one more stuffed animal.

And the mommy guilt? She lays it on thick. She cries and says she misses me, which hits this working mom where it hurts. So I stay and give her one more drink of water, one more hug, one more stuffed animal. And she knows that.

I had a long talk with some of my best mom friends on Friday, and they confirmed my suspicions.

Girlfriend is playing me like a fiddle.

So I decided that it’s time to get hardcore with her, because not only does it drive me batshit crazy frustrate me, but it needs to stop so she can actually get the sleep she needs.

Fast forward to tonight… we went through the bedtime routine and everything, and then I told her I was going to chat on skype and write a blog post bed. I hugged her and kissed her, covered her up, turned off the lights and shut the door.

And that’s when the drama began.

She fuh-reaked out. She cried and yelled and screamed and then she brought out the big guns.

“My mommy doesn’t love me!”

“I’m sooooo saaaaad because my mommy won’t listen to me and she doesn’t love meeeeeee!”

“I misssssss myyyyyy mommmmmmmyyyyyy!”

She tried to comfort herself. “Don’t cry, Kate, it’s ok.” And then she got practical and started worrying about the future. “How am I going to take care of myself??? How am I going to earn money??? My mommmmyyyyy doesn’t looovvvvvee meeee. She treats me like a dumpster”

At this point I’m transcribing her antics to the girls on Skype, and they’re begging me to get out the video camera. I asked them if it would ruin her life if I blogged about it, and Tricia kindly said, “Does it matter? Sounds like you’ve already ruined it.” Point taken. Blogging it is.

After much coughing and trying to warn us that she couldn’t even breathe, “Can you hear me?? I can’t even say a word!” she came out of her room. I used the Super Nanny method and took her straight back to bed and said “Goodnight, darling” and then left.

She half-heartedly tried to give me another guilt trip, but by that time I think she’d figured out it wasn’t going to work.

All is silent in her room now. I think she’s asleep. Either that or she’s quietly planning my untimely demise.

We weren’t around when Martin Luther King or John F. Kennedy were shot, but we grew up hearing stories about where our parents and teachers were at the moment they found out about those tragedies. September 11, 2001 was definitely the “where were you” moment of our generation. Here’s our story, and we hope you’ll share yours in the comments.
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Emily:
In the fall of 2001, I was newly-married, newly-graduated from college, and unemployed. We had spent the night of September 10 in the emergency room, discovering that Andy had a hernia and needed surgery. Recovering from that eventful night, I slept late on September 11 and woke up in time to go to my mid-morning dentist appointment. I called my grandma to tell her the news about Andy, and she told me a plane had hit the World Trade Center, but no one was sure if it was an accident or what. I listened to the radio on my way to the dentist office and it was on during my appointment, and I remember thinking how strange it was to be doing something as mundane as having my teeth cleaned when something so dramatic was going on in NYC. After my appointment, I went back to our apartment and turned on the television. I remember talking to friends and family members on the phone and over IM, and as my friend Jana and I sat on the phone in complete silence, we decided she should come over to watch the coverage with me. We went to the McDonald’s drive thru to get lunch, and by that time, the hysteria was starting to set in. The drive thru worker told us to fill up our gas tanks in case we had to go anywhere. Where we would go in order to be safer than small town Ohio is beyond me, and I can’t even remember if we heeded her advice. Anyway, I remember seeing the barn and the cornfield across the street against the bluest sky, and wondering how something so awful could happen on what should have been such a perfect day.

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Jenny:

I was at work that morning. Twenty-four years old, and still innocent, really, in a way that hardly seems possible. I worked in a building that was part of a State University, right next to Wright Patterson Air Force Base. We heard some loud planes taking off. I remarked to my boss how loud they were. Just then one of my fellow co-workers came in and told us a plane had hit the World Trade Center, he had been in his car and heard it on the radio. Immediately after someone from the building’s main office told us to come to the office and watch tv. “What happened?” I asked dumbly. By this time the first tower had fallen. I looked at the smoky ruins, the vehicles covered with ash, and one of the ladies in the office told me again, that a plane had crashed into each tower. That it was a terrorist attack. I stared at her, confused beyond belief. “Did they let the people off the plane first?” I asked. She looked at me and just sadly shook her head. Then it HIT me. I asked that question, maybe the dumbest question EVER, I don’t know, but it made sense to me, because I couldn’t comprehend. I couldn’t comprehend. And it breaks my heart that now I do.

They sent us home, because we worked in a government building, and we were non-essential employees. I curled up on the couch and watched TV. That’s really all I remember, until about 5:30. Bobby was home already, and a loud boom shook our house. Our windows rattled, and we ran outside. There were people outside, yelling, I heard one lady yell for her kids to get in the basement. Bobby and I started talking about whether to get the heck out of dodge. We talked about going to his dad’s cabin north of town, where it would be safer. Then, finally, the news reported that the sonic boom had been from jets taking off at the Air Force Base, to accompany Air Force One as it carried the President back to Washington.

The next day, I cried when I had to get out of bed. I didn’t want to go to work, didn’t want to leave my house. I was so scared. And changed.

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Our hearts are truly with our country today, and with all those who were touched directly by tragedy on that day.