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Why I Shouldn’t Read Bedtime Stories when I’m Tired
The kidlings have amassed quite a collection of story books. Of course, I had quite a collection before they were even born, one way of clinging on to an old dream of being a children’s picture book illustrator. (These days I rarely sketch, and if Pea asks me to draw something for her, inevitably, it’s not what she wanted….so…) Anyhoo. Back to the books. We do have quite a few, and it’s a rather diverse lot. Boo, of course, has quite a few dedicated to airplanes, trucks, and trains, and a broad collection of “Sam” books. Pea has the usual amount of Fancy Nancy, Pinkalicious, and princess-related books. Curious George,…
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Exercise much?
With the intent of warding off another early-morning meltdown, I warned Pea at bedtime that I might get up early to exercise and so I wouldn’t be in MY bed if she came looking for me for a morning snuggle. (She typically crawls into our bed at early o’clock, fights for space, then tosses and turns until we get up.) She thinks about it for a moment and replies “Ok.” Then, “Can I watch you exercise this week? I haven’t exercised in about a week. After I exercise, I stretch and cool down.” She says this all matter-of-factly. I fought back a snort. Finally, trying not to laugh, I inquire…
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She’s Not Always a Princess, or, It’s Just Semantics.
One Sunday morning during the first few months we were married, the Hubs and I were sitting in church, watching the adorable little girl in the pew in front of us. She was hugging on her dad when she leaned back, her arms around his neck — and head-butted him. Hard. The Hubs grinned widely. “I want a little girl like that”. Flash forward to yesterday. *** Boo bursts into the room, sobbing. “Pea punched me!” I look at him dubiously. He stands about a foot taller than her, and outweighs her by about 20 pounds. “Why would she do that? Did she really do that?” From the playroom, I…