Last Saturday I cut Thomas’s hair. The night after The Haircut, we were all sharing our rose and thorn at the dinner table, Thomas’s thorn* was his hair cut. And the next day, he put his hand on his hair and said, “Mommy my hair is still cut, right?” And on Thanksgiving day, when everyone
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.
Thomas had a field trip to the pumpkin patch last week. It was a cold day, so I packed two jacket options for each child, hats, and a blanket just in case. A few days earlier my phone’s camera broke, so as I packed I made a mental note to ask one of the adults to take
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
One afternoon I was sitting on the dock while David played in the sandy area on the bank of the lake. Thomas was draping himself over my legs, doing that three-year old thing where he readjusts every two seconds or so, trying to get just a little closer to mama. David and Caleb were both
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
Thomas walks up to me, gives me a big hug and says, “This is the best mommy ever!” I lean down, hugging him back, “Thomas! You think I’m the best mommy ever? Thank you!” Thomas pulls away, confused, “No, Mommy, my TIGER is the best mommy ever.”
On the morning of Thomas’s birthday he woke up at 6 a.m. Everyone else was still asleep, and instead of doing what his siblings would have done at his age — stay in bed and scream until someone got him — Thomas got up, quietly walked around our house, then came into my room and
In the middle of a spontaneous walk that ended up being admittedly too ambitious, foolishly close to lunch time, and with a stroller that was much too small to be of any help, Thomas decided he was done. He stopped, laid down in someone’s yard and yelled, “I can’t walk, Inna go ni-night!” I did
Thomas was filling a cup of water one day, when some water splashed on his sleeve. (A quick aside: Thomas enjoys the privilege of getting his own cup of water ONLY because he is in the unique position of having a six-year old brother and a 6-month old sister. He sees his brother doing six-year