MotherSuch to the Rescue

I am occasionally a less-than-stellar mother.

It’s true.

I mean, it’s rare. Really, really rare.

But true.

And it’s almost always in the middle of the night when it happens.

Which would be great for you not being any wiser,

except for the habit I have of yelling “Hey! Look what a failure . . . → Read More: MotherSuch to the Rescue

Typical Monday Talk with the Three-Why-Oh

This afternoon, while reading through her calendar, pointing out various dates to me:

She: “Mama, the next day on the first day before the last day, are we going to do that thing again?”

[Brief interlude during which my brain: attempted solving for "huh?" in yet another incomprehensible preschooler . . . → Read More: Typical Monday Talk with the Three-Why-Oh

We’ve Settled Our Differences with a Little Fancy

The Child and I, we don’t particularly agree about the necessity of sippy cups in our lives any more.

She’d like to keep the convenience (and freedom-to-roam-outside-the-kitchen-with-it) of the spill-free sippys.

I prefer the one-less-part-to-wash of the keep-it-in-the-kitchen ‘big girl’ open-top cups.

For a couple months we’ve . . . → Read More: We’ve Settled Our Differences with a Little Fancy

If She Demands You Not Look at Her Ankles, The Why

Took The Child to dinner last night, just the two of us. She squealed in delight at the “just girls” occasion, as though we hadn’t already spent all day together. She chirped and chattered the whole way there about the taco she wanted and how she would order it.

As soon as we stepped . . . → Read More: If She Demands You Not Look at Her Ankles, The Why

Merry HallowThankChristOtherSuchmas

On November 12th, The Child helped me put up our Christmas tree.

On November 14th, we realized that we’d never gotten around to carving our Halloween pumpkin.

So we carved a turkey into it, designed feathers out of pipe cleaners.

Topped it off with a Santa hat.

Crossed ”investigate source of Child’s holiday confusion” off . . . → Read More: Merry HallowThankChristOtherSuchmas

Froggie Went A-Courtin’

Remember that “Froggie went a-courtin’” song? No? I’m the only one whose mother sang (past tense, as though she doesn’t still do it to this day) odd songs to her as a child? Really? Alrighty, then. Guess when my kid comes around singing “froggie went a-courtin’ and he did drown, uh huh!” . . . → Read More: Froggie Went A-Courtin’

It’s Been a Really Really Messed Up Week

It is entirely possible that as I cradled the decapitated Snow White head in my hands, I comforted The Child with “there, there, don’t cry; this is just the kind of thing that happens when a sweet princess forgets her morals and keeps stripping off her clothes like a common hussy.”

. . . → Read More: It’s Been a Really Really Messed Up Week

Not To Get Too Judgy, But If You’re Not Incorporating Milli Vanilli Into Your Motherhood Style You Might Be Doing Something Wrong

She loves to spells things out for me:

“A-P-X-I-E-R, that spells ‘I need some paper, please!”

And bored with writing her own name, has taken to writing out other words for us.

Like “our names” in chalk in the driveway one evening.

. . . → Read More: Not To Get Too Judgy, But If You’re Not Incorporating Milli Vanilli Into Your Motherhood Style You Might Be Doing Something Wrong

So Much for the Breakfast-for-Dinner Plan

“Mommy, there’s a Cheerio stuck in my nose.”

“What?”

“There’s a Cheerio stuck in my nose!”

Looking, seeing nothing unexpected, “No there’s not.”

“I fink there is.”

Thinking this is related to the phantom splinter I removed from her foot this morning, or . . . → Read More: So Much for the Breakfast-for-Dinner Plan

Part of Me Still Wondering: What Was She Going To Say?

Moments later, she washed her mouth out with that soap. Then put herself in timeout. Then sent herself to her room until she could regain some composure. Whereupon she fell asleep.

Sometimes, motherhood is just a matter of standing back and watching it all unfold.

. . . → Read More: Part of Me Still Wondering: What Was She Going To Say?