On the morning of Thomas’s preschool field trip to the pumpkin patch, I was in the bathroom frantically getting ready. Because she never strays farther than six inches from my heels, Anna joined me in the bathroom. She insisted, INSISTED on using my blush (I tried to just hand her the blush brush but baby
Next fall Thomas will start kindergarten. This fall he is conducting experiments in our yard with the garden hose. One afternoon I was watering the garden and Thomas started digging in our mulch. I was using the hose attached to our irrigation, so he got the hose that’s attached to the front of our house
Yesterday Anna, my 22-month old, was throwing a tantrum. She threw herself onto the floor, curled her body over her knees with her forehead pressed to the carpet, and wailed. “Look!” Mary exclaimed. “Anna is doing a lockdown drill!” David and Mary laughed and laughed at the absurdity of a lockdown drill! At home! Ha!
A week after the big kids started back to school, Thomas started preschool. He didn’t want to hold his bag like I asked; he wanted to hold this plane instead. FOUR! What a difference a year makes. Thomas went to school wearing the same shirt David wore to the first grade, and hand-me-down Crocs with
Our school district starts late — after nine — so we never have to wake them up and we don’t have to rush. The kids have plenty of time to play, eat breakfast, get dressed, and hold down a part-time job. As he does every morning, David curled up on the couch with a book.
A few weeks before the end of school I started packing little treats in the kids’ lunches. Nothing too over-the-top — just things I don’t normally pack, like fruit snacks or cookies. I also started a very lazy alphabet countdown. In the morning I’d announce, “Today is O day! What should we do?” Then the
I feel like I’m in a weird in-between stage of parenting. I’ve got two big kids who are in full-day elementary school, and I’ve got two little ones at home with me. This one-foot-in-each-world is not unique to me, I know. But it’s tough on the sentimental side of me that wants to mark
A few weeks ago, before spring break, I got an email from Mary’s teacher. Whenever Mary’s teacher writes us emails she does this thing where the subject line of the email is just the kid’s name. So every now and then I get an email, subject “Mary” and every single time I panic. My blood
Last year, right around this time of year, David sat down at the table with construction paper, scissors, and glue, and independently handcrafted a valentine for his best friend. I was really, really impressed. I hadn’t given much thought to the valentines he was going to give out to his class, but right then and
If David had any social media account, this should be his profile picture. It so well captures him at this age — always bent over a book. Actually, either this picture or one of him sulking Charlie Brown-style because I just asked him to put his book down because it’s time for dinner, or bedtime,