If you follow me on this blog or Facebook or Instagram or have ever happened to drive past my house you probably know this: Thomas doesn’t love clothes. I dress him every day, sometimes more than once, and he always just takes them off. We have requirements about clothes that Thomas begrudgingly complies with. For
I’ve heard that great jokes are more about timing and delivery than the punchline. I don’t know if that’s completely true, but I do know that Thomas is really leaning into a nailing a good delivery. This is his favorite joke. We do this every day, several times a day. Every time he scream-laughs because he got
We were leaving the grocery store and Thomas didn’t have a coat on because, didn’t you know? Kids shouldn’t wear coats in their carseats. It’s true, and because it is nearly impossible to put a coat on a three-year old in any circumstance, imagine how hard it is to do in a grocery store parking
“Mommy?” Mary asked me one afternoon. “Does this mean ‘I love you’?” I looked up and Mary was standing in front of me, holding up her middle finger. I was startled, but I decided to play it cool and figure out what terrible influence in her life taught her this inappropriate gesture. “Why are you
We had four full days of Thanksgiving travel and festivities. We had a great time, and at the top of my “Thankful” list is all my relatives who bent over backwards to accommodate my rambunctious crew and their various eating and sleeping requirements. Despite everyone being amazing, the kids were out of their normal routines.
I was a chaperone for Mary’s class trip to the pumpkin patch this year. It was my first time chaperoning an elementary school field trip — in my kids’ school you have to express interest in chaperoning, and the teacher picks volunteers out of a hat. I was not selected to go to the zoo,
Thomas tripped, and when he put his hand out to catch himself his palm hit a rock. He walked to me, holding out his hand, crying, and I did what all moms do. I said, “Thomas, come here. Let Mommy kiss it.” I took his hand in mine and as I drew it to my
Thomas was standing on the pool stairs, bending his head backwards into the water. When he stood straight, his hair was all slicked back. His curls, when wet, reach his shoulders, and his hair is so blonde on top it almost looked like he was bald with a mullet. “You guys, look how funny Thomas’s