My son Nels loves to dress himself. But he puts everything on backwards. I mean everything, except shoes, which he attempts to put on the wrong feet. And I just can’t bring myself to let him go out like that. So I either ask, wheedle, reason, cajole, or demand and wrestle him to the ground to fix his clothes. Of course he complains about all this; “Bad Mama!” Because he wants to do everything by himself. But if he gets stuck – like he is right now, trying to pull up his pants while simultaneously standing on them – he makes these crazy, help-me-grunts. Then when I help, the second he’s decided I’ve helped enough, he starts in yelling again.
On the other hand, his fine and gross motor skills are quite impressive for his age. Yesterday he stole a basketball from a teenage boy shooting hoops at the playground.
The ONE day this week we don’t have a dinner engagement! Oh, except we kind of do – we’re off to swim lessons and Ralph and Nels have Playschool. Tomorrow: family of five coming over and I’m not sure what I’m going to make for dinner.
I’m about to chuck the kids in the bike trailer, head to my current favorite North End drive-through latte stand (Morning Fix Espresso), and go to my mom’s and hope to get some lunch.
I’m just a little pathetic today.