Category Archive: Kid Stuff

Jun 29

Blah

usI have writer’s block! Get me out of the jail that is my brain.

I just banged out a political rant and it is so badly written and choppy that it got thrown in the incinerator.  Metaphorically. Possibly literally if this computer keeps annoying me.

So I have nothing in the form of entertainment or wit, but I do have this adorable picture of me and the man who lights all my fires and starts all my smiles. We took this on our recent vacation, which was lovely. I got to relax this vacation.

I got to relax.

RELAX.

And READ BOOKS.

My kids are old enough that they don’t need me every second of the day. And I got to LAY DOWN.

Also? I saw brown stuff smeared on my gym tag the other day and I wiped it off without thinking twice. It never occurred to me that it could be anything other than chocolate. Do you know what this means?

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

Feb 01

Charlotte is 5

I love this sweet baby. From the moment she was born, she took the internet by storm. Her sweet, yet skeptical spirit has made her a force to be reckoned with. Today, she is 5 years old. Somewhere, in all my wondering if these kids were ever going to start growing up quickly, they started doing just that. I’ve included some of my very favorite pictures of her; ones that capture her spirit and her love. Charlotte is a one and only; frustratingly stubborn, impossibly empathetic, and charming and witty. It may take a while for her to warm up to you, but once she has you, her love is fierce and unwavering.

I cannot even tell you how grateful we are that she grew into that nose.

 

Nov 04

Living with Hooligans

Over lunch with a vendor who doesn’t have kids, I remarked that having kids is like living with drunk people. Please see the examples below for backup to my theory.

Exhibit A: they sit in weird positions.

Exhibit B: they are really rude.

Exhibit C: they dress oddly.

Exhibit D: they dance on tables in their underwear.

Exhibit E: they do not understand physics.

Exhibit F: they think they are more musically inclined than they are.

Exhibit G: they sneak into your cabinets with the munchies.

Exhibit H: they are overwhelmed with your nonsense logic and reasoning.

Exhibit I: They are emotionally unstable.

So, fellow roommates of miniature drunk people, cheers to you and your child wrangling. For those of us that may regret “celebrating” too much in college, stop beating yourself up and consider that time “wasted” as a sort-of dress rehearsal for having children. Don’t worry, mamas of littles – you’re doing great.

Aug 19

The Family Picture

familyGrumpy Preschooler arrived home the other day with her packet of papers, eager for me to see them. As I flipped through them, proud of her work, I got to the last one – a picture she’d drawn of a little person and two taller people. I asked her what the picture was, and she replied “our family” and smiled. I asked–with trepidation–where Sissy was, and I felt my heart actually wrench (can hearts wrench?) in that moment, when I heard her reply softly, “At [her dad’s].”

And there were depths of my soul that actually hurt in that moment.

Happy Blonde, who is 11 now, has always lived primarily with me, and since her (very involved) father lives in a different jurisdiction, she sees him every weekend. This summer, we essentially switched custodial status, and she spent Monday – Friday with him, and weekends with us. It was my first taste of being a non-custodial parent–and it was awful. I learned the gritty part of it – how quickly the visitation goes by, how hard it is to readjust in a short period of time, and how it’s nearly impossible to have a child on weekends feel like they are part of the working household. It’s hard to mold them and discipline them, because you hardly want to spend what little time you have picking battles.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

May 16

Scared

brave

I heard this quote listening to Jen Hatmaker‘s Willow Creek podcast from Mother’s Day, and I immediately thought of how scared I am as a parent. I think I’ve gotten better, I really do, but I have a long way to go.

This was never more apparent to me than

this past summer when my friend Jessica invited Jason and I out on the boat. I watched as her daughter, a year younger than Grumpy Toddler, was fearless with the water. FEARLESS, y’all, in the best way possible. She was FUN fearless. Jumped in, swam, played in the waves. In contrast, Charlotte clung to us in our laps, and I realized that she was the result of a mom who tried desperately to remove anything that could possibly cause her harm or sadness or discomfort. I had bubbled her right into boring.

When I think back to my life, and the moments that grew me, they really were just not all that fun. They were times I would have skipped if given the chance – if God had given me the foresight into the future. The babies I lost, the marriage that failed, the friendships that I walked away from, those horrible decisions I made. Like it or not, though, the bad grows us. And as I scrambled to block impending discomfort from my kids, I robbed them of their ability to be strong, determined women. Strong mothers. Dependable employees. I took away some of the experiences that would have forced them to learn to problem solve. In short, I decided to get their education FOR them so they wouldn’t have to – as if somehow that was a good thing.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

May 11

Kids Are Resilient.

This picture was taken the day we separated.

This picture was taken the day we separated.

They are, aren’t they? Kids can withstand so much; they’re just so resilient.

I hear this a lot when adults justify the decisions they make; I actually said it once to justify my own divorce. Kids are resilient; and she’s young! At five months old, she’ll never remember us together, so it’s not like she’ll miss having her mom and dad together. It will be her normal. 

Lots of rationalizations, there. In retrospect, it wasn’t actually important that I end my marriage sooner because it wouldn’t actually be better for her. It would actually be better for me.

It hurts just to type that, y’all. To admit it, right there in black and white. Sometimes transparency is for the birds. I convinced myself that The Oldest One would be better if mama was happy. You know what didn’t occur to me, though? Making the best of the situation. Maybe not making it obvious that we were unhappy. Perhaps acting like a grown up. You know what kids don’t do? Analyze their parents to see if their happiness is at an adequate level. Kids are naturally kind of narcissistic, and I don’t think they really care if their parents are happy because I don’t think they notice, unless there is abuse.

That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!

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