Our Boy
We love him in pink. We love that he’s fascinated by flashy flip-flops, and can walk in them. We love him that he lets his sister and her friend dress him in a dress, without protest. We love that he shows an affection for dollies and buggies. Will he love that we love these things about him, not to mention that we mention it publicly? Will we love that he’s gotten into the garbage and is kicking the container around the kitchen while his doting mama types this post? Will this debatably charming interrogative style annoy or amuse? Will you back away from the glowing screen and serve your long-suffering kids an after-school snack for heaven’s sake, mama? Like, now?Mother’s Day
This mama doesn’t really like eating breakfast in bed. Reminds her of invalidism. But sleeping in while daddy and children cook up eggs and potatoes for breakfast? That’s just about perfect. What would make the day just the littlest bit more perfect would be … a crown, of course! Designed and fitted with precision by Apple-Apple.
“But when do we get to have Children’s Day?”
Soccer in the Park, the Deluge Version
We arrive early, wondering … will anyone else show up? And, is that thunder?
Why, yes. They will show up. Yes. It will rain. Yes. It will be seriously, seriously fun.Cowboys and Rainbows
Family drawing night, inspired by Soule Mama’s blog on the subject … tonight. In fact, I can’t get these kids to stop. I put Beethoven on the CD player, the kids sharpened a pile of pencil crayons, we spread big pieces of paper, and everyone got a chance to direct the subject matter. Tree. Flower. Rainbow. Bird. Cowboy. CJ didn’t get a turn, but he did a bit of scribbling, also snacking, guzzling, and excitable pencil grabbing. I’ve posted each of our cowboys. Can you guess whose is whose?
Free-Range Children
Dinner conversation (with Fooey). “Oops! Don’t worry, Mommy, you can clean it up, and then you can go and get me some more.” “Sigh. I am not your personal slave and servant.” “Well, I need a servant.”After-dinner conversation: “Can we go outside to play?” Uh, yes. Yes!
Spotted through the window: husband kicking soccer ball. Repeatedly. Using formerly broken leg. A wee bit of wincing. See evidence here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOkyU4yctrU
And on another topic altogether, file this under things I never imagined doing: pulling out a tooth, not my own. In the dark. Whilst the child in question remained in her bunk bed. “Mommy, this tooth hurts too much to sleep.” “Well, what I can do to help?” “Can you pull it out? Please?” Small moment of silence. “Mommy, that’s the wrong tooth. That one isn’t even loose.”
For the record, the one that was extracted successfully, after much arrghing and some gore, was the one that had started out loose. Loose-ish, in my opinion. But I think she wanted it out mostly so she could try drinking with a straw through the gigantic hole at the bottom of her mouth.