Today I had one of those great moments where you are ignoring or irritated at your child only to tune in and be instantly ashamed at how good /smart / docile they’re truly being. I was at playschool and trying to write some announcement on the whiteboard when Devil Child #1 erases half of it while I’m adding the flourishing touches so I have to start over. I’m all irritated, re-writing, preoccupied, and she is carrying on about wanting a marker to write with too, blah blah. Fine, fine, I chuck one down at her like a small javelin (OK, I’m only kidding – I handed it to her). I’m writing furiously and again I hear her duck-like voice carrying on and I finally look down and she has successfully copied a “p”, “l”, and “a” down and is starting on the “y”. Kind of the first time ever she’s written anything besides a letter or two. Wow. I’m totally impressed. And sorry I was about to snuff her candle out because she wouldn’t Shut Up While Mama Is Trying To Finish Something!!
Yesterday afternoon. Trekkin’:
Yeah, I live in no-precipitation PT but I still bundle my kids like a mofo. Sorry – but the rights of a Mama prevail over common temperature sense. I hear their mocking, smarmy voices in future-echoes from a sitdown with the photo album. And don’t say anything about their matching Land’s End gear. The Grandma provides.
The closest to a “real picture” I could get. The little shits wouldn’t pose, or even look at me, actually. They look like, if we’re lucky, they might break into a dance routine. Nels is dead-on-his-feet tired, but the spread legs provide stability.