Cheryl Perry

The kids have a new board game obsession: The Game of Life. Whoa, have you played it recently? It’s changed a ton since we were little. I just bought it for the kids over the summer when we’d played every other board game a hundred million times. It was my absolute favorite game growing up so I was super excited they wanted it, too.

I didn’t remember what I loved so much about it until I finally set it up. The little cars! The little stick figures – the babies! Oh yes, I then remembered driving them all over the board game. I loved how my little car was just full of pink and blue. I never ended the game rich, but I always had a whole lot of kids.

But now that I’m playing it as an adult, I’m starting to think the Game of Life is more accurate than a Ouija board. And it’s kind of scaring me a little. I mean, it did predict the vanload of kids for me, and it’s not looking like I’m going to win the lottery anytime soon. If it was so accurate in predicting my future when I played it as a kid, what’s it mean for me now?

I think it means I’m screwed.

Someone is enjoying a career resurgence in our house. At first he was the Chosen One – perfect and beautiful – then he suddenly lost popularity and was tossed in with the “others” and forgotten. Then, unexpectedly, he was picked up by a different child half a decade later and is now more beloved then ever.

I guess he’s a little like Teri Hatcher.

My oldest child’s first love was Brown Bear. Given to her by one of my dearest friends when she was a baby, Brown Bear went everywhere with us. He and the binkie were the only two things my daughter insisted on having at bedtime, and I have Brown Bear to thank for cuddling my baby girl to sleep every night.

I just don’t get it. I thought I had finally done it right, but I was wrong again. So, I’m in Target – my home away from home – the Sunday afternoon before CMS starts (seriously bad move). I’ve got all four kids and a shopping cart full of everything from fish sticks to a pair of Hanky Panky knock-offs. It’s finally my turn at the check out line. The nice cashier scans all my items, tells me to pay the equivalent of a car payment, and bids me farewell.

Wait, wait, wait. I bought two boxes of Gain detergent. I should get a $5 Target gift card. Wasn’t that the promo I saw? I swear that’s what the little white ticket said. Why else would I buy two boxes of detergent I don’t normally buy? Surely I read the fine print – I mean, I did have four children screaming at me at once but I can read. I swear I should get a $5 Target gift card. Give. Me. My. Gift. Card.

I married into a very Southern family. You’d think that wouldn’t be a big deal given my dad is a native Charlottean, and I’ve always lived here. But, (big BUT) my mom is from Chicago, and although she moved here in high school, she could not possibly know all the “givens” that a multi-generational Southern mama would know – there’s nothing wrong with that, but it means I had a small learning curve when I got married (I mean, who doesn’t?).

My mother-in-law is a true Southern lady. She’s from eastern North Carolina, and is a genuine “Steel Magnolia.” She’s funny, strong, sweet, and loyal. She has a million friends and zero enemies. She managed to raise four boys who actually still call home. She also happens to be turning 70 today and deserves a little recognition!

Some people would rather drive nails up their arms then go out to eat with all of their kids by themselves. Usually I don’t venture out alone with all of the kids for dinner or lunch – it’s just not worth it. However, there are some times when the thought of making a meal at home is just too much to bear and we just have get out of the house – or our schedules are just wacky enough that dining out is a better idea than dining in. On those days or nights, there are only a handful of restaurants I will patronize.

There are only two “requirements” for me to take all four of my kids alone to a restaurant – alone meaning just ME. No other adult to assist (mom, friend, husband, etc):

Dear Cute College Freshmen Girl:

Let me be the first one to tell you (even if you don’t believe me), you’ve got it good, sister. I mean, seriously. Sure, you’ve got to do a little studying, maybe decide what you want to do for the rest of you life, perhaps try to find a husband in a sea of belligerent frat boys who think they make great cocktails but actually need about 10 more years of practice, blah, blah, blah. We’ve all been there – it’s nothing new. The difference is you get to do it in style.

I’m sure you don’t want to hear this old lady talk about what it was like in her day, but that doesn’t matter. You’re gonna listen. I bet you’re emailing with your future roommate right now trying to figure out how you’re going to decorate your dorm room. Who’s bringing the fridge? What Vera Bradley pattern is your bed going to be decorated in? Which MacBook Pro did you get?

After 8 years of motherhood, I am just now coming to the conclusion that I could’ve made much better use of my time before kids. I majored in journalism and worked in marketing right out of college – sure, this might come in handy when they need me to edit term papers or come up with a catchy slogan when running for student council – but at this stage of my life as a mom it means nothing.

Yes, I babysat in high school and college, but that’s hardly preparation for what motherhood is really about. I did a few internships in marketing but all I really did was file papers – I guess that helped a little considering I’m the family secretary. Actually, my work at GapKids probably helped me “train” for real life more than anything else – I am an efficient and unbelievable t-shirt and denim folder. Really comes in handy with all the laundry I do.

What other jobs could’ve really helped with this motherhood thing? Let’s see:

Let’s face it – date nights can get sort of predictable. When we have a date night, my husband and I usually go to one of our fave restaurants or – more embarrassingly – hit Lowe’s or Home Depot to research some home improvement project – can you say “old married couple??!”

Sometimes I wish we could think outside the box a little and take advantage of some of what the city has to offer. I thought I’d ask around to some friends to find out if there were some fun date night spots around Charlotte we’re missing (apparently I’m not alone in my boring life because lots of friends I asked also had a hard time coming up with ideas). Some of these are from my super smarty stay-at-home dad friend, Brian – can you guess which ones?

Smarties, do I have a treat for you! I am so excited to introduce you to Smarty Mom extraordinaire Leslie Berens, the proud mother of three, one of whom just happens to be Ricky Berens – yes, THE Ricky Berens – Charlotte’s own Olympic swimmer. I was just giddy when she said “yes” to being a Smarty mom – I felt like Oprah must feel when she lands a big interview – because she’s the Real Deal. She’s more than “Ricky Berens’ mom” – she’s a legit athlete and coach in her own right. She’s fascinating to talk to – I mean, wouldn’t you want to interrogate a mother who’s been “around the block” and soak in all of her experience and advice? Yep, I got to.

Leslie has always been active – growing up in Indiana with three brothers, she first asked her mom to let her swim at age 7 because all of her friends could swim and she couldn’t. She went on to play 4 different high school sports (swimming, basketball, tennis, and volleyball – the latter three she learned in high school). She and her friends started hearing about Title IX through the news, and Leslie knew she wanted to get a scholarship to college in some sport somewhere. She went on to be one of the first female recipients of a volleyball scholarship at Miami of Ohio. Amazing.

You know how they say sometimes you have to lose something to realize how important it is to you? Don’t worry – I’m not going to write about breaking up with my husband or anything serious like that – but I did have a mild panic attack when over the weekend I lost the bracelet my husband gave me when I had my first child.

This is how it went down: I took the older two kids to the Container Store on Sunday not realizing they didn’t open until 11 AM. We had an hour to kill so we shopped around Dick’s – totally the best place to kill 30 minutes with kids – and sat around the fountain at SouthPark lamenting about the flood. I knew at some point my bracelet had gotten caught on my shorts’ pocket but was too concerned about whether my shorts had ripped to feel it slip off. I didn’t even realize it was gone until late afternoon while I was Pure Barre-ing it.

Total panic set in. I mean – I wore that bracelet almost every day for 8 years. It’s as much a part of me as my wedding ring is. The minute I realized it was gone I started to think about everything it represented to me: the rites of passage of a new mother, the birth of my only daughter, the only piece of jewelry I have with her birthstone. I have always planned to give her the bracelet when she got married – now what would I give her that had as much meaning?