Be My Guest

The most misused term in our household is “I’m the guest.”

JJ is always saying, "I'm the guest" but she doesn't return that favor when someone is a guest at our house, nor does she understand how to be a good guest when she is at someone else’s house.

Play dates at someone else’s house often go like this:

A tearful JJ runs into the living room where me and the other mom(s) are trading stories about school, teachers, homework, and JJ declares, “S isn’t letting me (fill in the blank) and that’s not fair because I’m the guest.”

Play dates at our house often go like this:

A tearful JJ runs into the living room where me and the other mom(s) are trading stories about school, teachers, homework, and JJ declares, “S doesn’t want to (fill in the blank) and that’s not fair because this is my house.”

Similar, aren’t they?

Each time this happens I flashback to my own lessons in sharing and compromise. My cousins and I laugh about this now but apparently I always wanted to get my own way and because I was the youngest cousin and the only only child, my aunts often make my cousins do whatever I said. And naturally my cousins hated me for it. I don’t think my aunts or my mother realized what a disservice they were doing me.

Why didn’t someone gently explain to me that, yes, the guest does get to pick the first game/movie/activity, but then its someone else’s turn to pick. And whether you are the guest or the host, it’s important to happily and fairly participate in all activities, including the ones you didn’t pick.

I try to explain this to JJ. I’m not sure she is getting it but I am hoping eventually it will begin to register and she will understand that to be a good guest and a good host, you need to compromise and take turns, and be open to other people’s ideas and suggestions for activities. It’s a lot like life.

On a recent Saturday afternoon, three 7-year-olds (all only children) were visiting our house with their parents. They played peacefully for the first hour or so but then there were issues when we broke out the Wii. I’m not sure why because we have four controllers so everyone could play but I guess JJ didn’t want to play tennis and the other two did. JJ couldn’t get her head around everyone having a turn to pick a game, and naturally the two guests should pick first.

Eventually, it became too difficult to negotiate. The parents of the other two kids, like my aunts, wanted to let JJ have her own way—something I wasn’t comfortable with. When the kids couldn’t agree on a game, all the parents agreed we should just turn off the Wii.

In the end, it turned out, each child wanted to do something different and once I provided them with the materials and toys to do their own thing, the three of them happily played in the same room. One wanted to do art projects, another wanted to play with Bakugans and JJ wanted to watch Fetch with Ruff Ruffman, a PBS Kids show she only gets to see on Saturday evenings and probably the only TV show I don’t feel guilty about her watching.

Eventually, they all began sharing their activities. Two of them decided to dress up, JJ played Bakugans, they all ended up doing a craft project. And they all ended up taking a turn picking an activity without realizing it.

"Actually Very Delicious!"

I’m not sure if this has anything to do with being an only child but JJ is an incredibly picky eater.

In terms of food that isn’t Goldfish, pretzels or ice cream, she eats exactly a dozen items: breakfast cereal geared to kids, granola bars, tortillas, hamburger buns with ketchup, white rice, plain pasta, macaroni and cheese, cheese sticks, eggs, bacon, pancakes and steak.

Actually being an only child might factor into this because I never force her to eat what we are eating. I violate the rule all parents have been told and I make her a separate meal. And when we go out to dinner, we gladly buy her a steak. My husband calls it the “$20 kids’ meal.” It is not unusual for her to eat most of a 12-ounce T-bone steak by herself. My husband usually eats what’s left.

So, tonight when JJ declared my tomato sauce was “actually very delicious,” I thought I was going to cry.

Tomato sauce is such a part of my life. Growing up on Long Island, an Italian American (a term you don’t hear much these days), I would wake up every Sunday morning to the aroma of meatballs frying and tomato sauce simmering. It was so comforting. For me, it meant family and love and all that was good in the world.

To make a good sauce, it has to cook all day and mine is no exception. I started simmering mine at 9:30 this morning and didn’t stop cooking it until we ate at 7 pm. I put in herbs from our garden—oregano, rosemary and basil—and fresh garlic from the farmer’s market, red pepper and bay leaves. This is not a sauce for wimpy eaters but my picky eater LOVED it.

She asked for a bowl of sauce to dip her pasta and after declaring, “its actually very delicious,” she spread it on her oversized pasta shells and I could hear her making “mmmm” sounds as she ate. Now, that is comforting!

As my husband pointed out, that’s the most vegetables she’s eaten since she was a baby.

Family of Only Children

We are a family of only children. I am an only child, my husband technically is an only child (his older brother passed away years ago when my husband was a child) and our daughter is an only child.

You may wonder if this makes our house incredibly quiet or how we ever manage to get anything done. Doesn’t everyone want to get their own way all time?

Ours is a surprisingly loud house. We have a Wheaten Terrier who barks at anything that moves. And all three of us has penchant for loud music. Though neither my husband nor I particularly enjoy listening to our 7-year-old’s favorite song, “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” at Spinal Tap decimal levels.

And, yes, at times we have to negotiate with each other and with our daughter, JJ. And, yes, there are times when we all retreat to a different room of the house and want our alone time. Even our dog does this!

But, mostly we are a regular, social, outgoing family. Not a family of spoiled brats. Contrary to what Wikipedia has to say about only children.

I did not plan to have an only child. It just happened that way. While I never envisioned myself living in an Eight is Enough household, I always thought I’d have more than one child.

Would I be happier with 2.5 children, which according to this 2007 Gallup poll, is the ideal family size. I doubt it. But it does give me pause that so few people picked one child as the ideal family size.

While it has its challenges, having an only child also has its advantages. The whole scenario gets even more complicated when you throw in a mother who is an only child and father who is de facto only child.

Did I mention that half of my friends are only children and that most of JJ’s friends are only children? You haven’t really tested the limits of your patience until you’ve tried to negotiate with two 7-year-old only children. Last Saturday, we had to negotiate with three 7-year-old children but that’s a topic for another day.