My seven-year-old opened an educational magazine to an article about the life cycle of a butterfly. She then placed a stuffed caterpillar on the page in such a way that it looked like it was reading. She said to me, “Look, mom. Read the rest of this entry
I’d poop in the potty for these!
Before getting married and having children of my own, I lived in the garage of my brother and his family. When their third child was potty training there was a big celebration every time the boy used the potty. In addition to cheers and clapping, there were jelly beans! The good kind–Jelly Bellies that came in a huge tub from Costco. Not only did the boy doing the job get a bean, but his older sisters did, too. I suppose that was a good motivation for them to encourage their little brother to keep up the good work.
But the best part was, even though I wasn’t even in the house Read the rest of this entry
This kind of cuteness:
My four-year-old was blowing dandelion seeds and making wishes: “I wish the car would be pink (blow . . .), I wish everyone would know God (blow. . .), I wish there would be more of these to blow.” Read the rest of this entry
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I was nearly finished folding laundry on the bed when my two-year-old ran past the doorway. “Please just keep going,” I thought to myself. But, no, she stopped in the hallway, having spotted me, and came back. I could have closed the door, but that would only have piqued her interest. I then worked feverishly to finish folding the last items and get them to the safety of the laundry basket before my daughter got her hands on them, but to no avail.
“Stop helping me!” I said. “No, it’s okay. I got this!” But the feisty little Read the rest of this entry
My 21-month-old daughter was pretending to take food from pictures in a book and then feed the food to me. She “picked” an apple, and offered it, saying, “apple?” I diligently opened my mouth, pretending to take and eat it. Next it was a cracker, and the process repeated. Then she held out her hand saying, “Cookie?” Read the rest of this entry
On the day of my son’s baptism, the baptismal font was not warmed. Father forgot to turn it on the night before, so the nave of the church was humming with the news as we stripped our newborn to be baptized. I almost decided not to do a full immersion, but Father and my husband said he would be fine and the font really wasn’t that cold. Read the rest of this entry
Even at 13-years-old, my son and I continue our running argument: “I love you more than you love me!” and “You’re more special!” No one ever wins this, but Read the rest of this entry
As I was still lying in bed one morning, my toddler climbed up next to me. She ran to the other side of the bed, then came back and anointed my mouth with her slobbery fingers. Then she waddled off across the bed and came back to wet my mouth again. By the third time, I shook off the sleepy stupor to see what was going on. She was dipping her hand in my husband’s water cup, then trying to “feed” the water to me.
Often when my husband takes the girls to bed, he helps them hop like a rabbit or fly like a bird, or lets them ride on his shoulders. But, as he has a bad back, sometimes he’s unable to do any of these things. Once, after explaining that his back hurt too much to do more than just carry our middle daughter, she rubbed his back for him as they walked down the hallway to her bedroom.
