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Let’s try reaching across the aisle

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My older children recently staged an intervention with me, which is why I am writing this from home on Couchy in the bosom of my snoring dogs rather than sweating it out in my car. They said my frubering--free ubering--of Stella all day every day must cease and desist, lest she contract a case of "only child syndrome."

I don't know if this is a scientific thing or a TikTok thing. But apparently Stella is in grave danger of spoiled bratty-ness, to a degree far worse than any of the others have ever suffered, which is saying something.

"You were forced to at least some sense of moderation when you had all of us to tend to at once," Adelaide told me. "But now is it only Stella. And you need boundaries, for your own good as well as hers."

I took her to volleyball from 9 to 11 a.m. earlier this week, and then a nail appointment. It was 1 p.m. when we got home, and then, in compliance with orders, I declared my frubering duties done for the day. That evening, Stella was forced to leave 90 minutes early and shoot without me rebounding at the gym before basketball training so Adelaide could drop her off on the way to work. My niece Sophia picked her up on her way home. Unimpressed with these options, Stella did call Granny for reinforcements, but alas, Granny was not available.

For my hours in the car the other morning I read. That might not have been too long had I been reading a novel. But instead, I read mostly news on my phone. It started off in my email inbox with a couple of newsletters I follow........

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