Anna calls David “DayDay.” She calls Mary “MayMay.” She calls Brigham “Ma,” and she knows the names of several neighborhood dogs. In an ultimate little sister power move, she doesn’t even attempt to say Thomas’s name. There are actually a lot of words Anna doesn’t attempt. She has a decent vocabulary, but she’s almost impossible
Tom was out of town last weekend (pause for dramatic effect)(insert shock and awe)(add comment about me being the best ever and Tom being the worst ever)(remember that people do stuff like this all the time and your whining might induce a lot of justified eye rolls)(regain consciousness and move on). One of the many,
Last summer when we were in Pennsylvania, we visited Tom’s cousin. In addition to an actual roller coaster, they also had an amazing swing set in their backyard. We really liked the size and design of this particular swing set, so Tom made a mental note to get back in touch with his cousin after
A huge part of the life of a toddler is just evolving methods for getting attention. Anna’s newest strategy is to just yell: “MOM! MOM! MOOOOOOM!” Not Mommy, not Mama. Mom. It’s such a funny thing because she’s not crying, and it’s not shrill or whiny like typical toddler fussing. It’s top-of-the-lungs shouting: MOOOOOOM! It’s
Mary doesn’t like a ponytail. She thinks that, with her hair pulled back from her face, she looks like a boy. I love when her hair is swept up and wrapped into a bun. When her hair is down it hides her face and distracts from her fine features. She loves when I play with
I’ve mentioned before that Thomas doesn’t know colors. Actually, let me rephrase. Thomas refuses to conform to the names society has given colors. Instead of using the names of the colors that you and I use, he came up with his own. For example, instead of red, green, blue, and yellow, Thomas would say David
The Krieger family started 2020 with a bang. That bang came in the form of a stomach bug that hit most of us, one by one, in the span of 12 hours. Our house was the scene of a gastroenteritis horror movie — the kind that haunts the dreams of caregivers of small children. We
When I got home from the 8k, Tom was outside with all the kids. They rushed the car and smothered me with hugs as if I was returning from war. Thomas rifled through my bag and found my post-race food. I had two small bags of pretzels and one bag of trail mix. He held
A few weeks ago my family headed into worship at church. We found a row, empty except for a middle-aged couple at the end. We filed in and in short order, one-by-one, my children lost their minds. The couple was polite and friendly. We shared “kids will be kids” smiles as I corrected and redirected
One morning Anna’s pajamas were half-on. (Ok, so sometimes/all the time after a diaper change we don’t bother to wrestle Anna back into her clothes. Whatever, we get the important part taken care of.) Somehow this transformed into a game where Thomas was holding the legs of her pajamas and pretending she was a dog