Meg: Mommy, when you die, can I have your red wallet?
Me: Sure.
Meg: Yay!
Dinner last night: fettuccine with scallops
Exactly one year ago:
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
You Can't Take It With You
On the drive to school this morning, my kindergartner was looking through my purse.
Dinner last night: fettuccine with scallops
Dinner last night: fettuccine with scallops
Friday, February 22, 2013
The Journey
I have never felt more like a mom than I do right now. I'm in a stage of life at the moment where my kids seem to really need my services. I'm providing most of the cooking, cleaning, driving, watching, and listening. I am to be seen and not heard. My girls need me around, but they don't want my advice or criticism. My encouragement of their endeavors must be discreet and unwavering.
My days are a little weird, but kind of fun. Two kids don't like cheese; the other two insist on a slice of cheddar on their turkey sandwiches. One kid loves competition; one kids avoids team sports at all costs; the youngest just want to roam free and play without any structure. They all have long hair, but each has a favorite hairstyle. No ponytails for one, only ponytails for another, french braid for a third, and I'm not allowed to touch the head of the fourth kid—she'll comb her own hair, thank you very much.
My husband's elderly aunt visited our home a few years ago. The twins were toddlers. The older girls were messy and clueless, forgetting to shut the door as they ran in and out, in and out. The house was loud and crazy. She loved it. Her husband passed long ago, and she's lived longer as a widow than as a married woman. Her own children are middle-aged, married with grown children of their own. She told me to enjoy it while I've got it.
I am.
Dinner last night: ham-potato bake
My days are a little weird, but kind of fun. Two kids don't like cheese; the other two insist on a slice of cheddar on their turkey sandwiches. One kid loves competition; one kids avoids team sports at all costs; the youngest just want to roam free and play without any structure. They all have long hair, but each has a favorite hairstyle. No ponytails for one, only ponytails for another, french braid for a third, and I'm not allowed to touch the head of the fourth kid—she'll comb her own hair, thank you very much.
My husband's elderly aunt visited our home a few years ago. The twins were toddlers. The older girls were messy and clueless, forgetting to shut the door as they ran in and out, in and out. The house was loud and crazy. She loved it. Her husband passed long ago, and she's lived longer as a widow than as a married woman. Her own children are middle-aged, married with grown children of their own. She told me to enjoy it while I've got it.
I am.
Dinner last night: ham-potato bake
Exactly two years ago:
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Lawn Ornament
I was driving through a neighborhood when I spied this guy hanging out in someone's yard. I rolled down my window and snapped a shot with my cell phone. (Why do my cell phone pics always come out blurry and/or pixelated, while my husband's look like this?)
Dinner last night: spaghetti and turkey meatballs
There's a reason why good fences make good neighbors.
Dinner last night: spaghetti and turkey meatballs
Exactly four years ago:
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