things that seemed like a good idea at the time
Getting a henna tattoo at a charity gala, because everyone else is doing it, not thinking about the fact that in two weeks, IT WILL STILL BE THERE. laughing and not intervening when Jafta decided to put the baby in a bucket. (Not pictured: faceplant onto the cement). Showing your kids the movie Camelot, so they can get excited about their knight and princess birthday party, forgetting that it is a movie about adultery. And also, anyone else seeing what I’m seeing with . . .
I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday
Kembe and India (the twins) turned 4 earlier this week. It was very anticlimactic. Their preschool schedule their special moment at school a couple days before the real day. They get to wear a crown and the parent supplies a special snack . . . but we are discouraged from bringing sweets or cupcakes. However, a lot of parents don't follow the rules, and my kids came home moping several days last year because "so-and-so" got CUPCAKES for their birthday . . .
burnt beans, and other things I can’t remember
I am working at home today. We have a studio apartment behind our house and it's vacant at the moment, so I am using the quiet space to work on some lecture notes. There are painters in the house, edging us closer and closer to getting our house back to pre-flood conditions. The have the house taped off and practically sealed shut, but twice now I have had to go to the bathroom, so I tiptoed my way around them into the house and tried to pee as quietly as possible. As I walked back into the . . .
as I was saying . . .
Jafta’s open house was tonight. As I approached the classroom, I noticed the teacher had posted pictures that each child made, along with their answer to the question, “What is your favorite part of kindergarten?” Jafta’s answer: “My favorite part of kindergarten is going to the cafeteria because I buy lunch.” . . .
the best friends that weren’t
It feels like so often, I write about specifics of our journey with Kembe just as issues are starting to resolve. I think it feels safer that way. Things are getting better, every day. He has become much more bonded to me in the last month. I can see him relaxing into our relationship with each day, and the constant testing is becoming less constant. I can see progress, even in the midst of challenge. One of the things about Kembe’s homecoming that has been . . .
99 problems but hip dysplasia ain’t one
This week . . . was not my best week. It was one of those weeks with way too many things on the to-do list for one person, in part due to my inability to set boundaries for myself, and in part because of my knack for procrastinating. I am terribly overcommitted right now in several areas, which is it’s own post, but I did finally get some resolution on a few things that were raising my stress level from moderate to DEFCON 5. We have been living with a half-finished kitchen for . . .
the tattle tally, explained
Several people have asked me to explain the Tattle Tally. Before I share the details of this elaborate scheme, let me say this: Prior to having kids, I remember hearing moms correct their children for tattling, and I always thought, what’s the big deal? I mean, don’t you want your kid to come and tell you if someone else is doing something wrong? (Cue maniacal laughing of experienced parents everywhere). My kids started dabbling with the tattle routine when they started . . .
demolition mom
Since Kembe came home from Haiti, we've been playing a bit of the musical chairs with our sleeping arrangements. We have tried every combination imaginable. The girls have their own room, but India has the occasional night terror, which wakes up Karis, which results in a situation Mark and I lovingly refer to as "Girls Gone Feral". It is usually resolved by bringing one of the girls into our bed so they can at least scream it out in separate rooms. Then the boys - I . . .
tea party
Whenever the boys are away, the girls and I have a tea party. I don't remember how this was started, but the tradition has stuck. It's pretty simple - I lay a blanket out in the middle of the kitchen and brew some herbal tea. India invites a doll or two. Karis sits in the bumbo so she doesn't upend the tea. We sip. Tonight was a tea-party night. Mark took the boys to the barber shop, and as soon as they were out the door, India pulled out the blanket and . . .
gun control
I spend a lot of time pondering the disparity between the mom I thoughy I would be, and the mom I am. I was such a good mom before having kids. I had dreams of my children playing with quaint wooden toys, learning piano at a young age, and having picnics in meadows (eating only organic food, of course). Somehow my reality of motherhood involved a lot more plastic, McDonalds, and trips to Target than I ever imagined. That meadow picnic? Yeah, that's never happened. Also in my dreams of . . .
- Newer Posts
- 1
- …
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- …
- 24
- Older Posts