Sometimes, I am astounded by just how quickly the world can fall apart around me.
Violet, while showing slight improvement, is still quite sick (although still completely adorable).
By the time she woke up this morning (after a very fitful night of what we will REFER to as "sleep" on the couch with me), her poor little face was crusted in snot. And as she was feeling feverish, I decided to put her in the bathtub. She likes being in the bathtub and being sponged off while she isn’t feeling well. She will actually start to fall asleep on her little bath cushion as the water trickles over her. But when I go to take her out? Absolute fury. From the time I lift her out of the water until I finally have her dressed and in my arms, she is TICKED OFF.
So naturally, as I laid her, wrapped in a towel, on the floor in the hallway to get dressed after her bath, life fell apart.
You know how you can usually tell how a person’s day is going just by looking at their face? Forget my face…you can read my week by looking at my shirt.
People, black cotton is an amazing canvas for six-month-old snot. (That would be snot FROM a six-month-old, as opposed to snot that has lived on my shirt for six months. I’m behind in my housecleaning, but not THAT behind.)
My children are sick. All five of them.
Read more at Grimm Realities…
One of the most rewarding parts of being a parent is watching your children develop sophistication and maturity. But that’s not nearly as fun as watching them develop a sense of humor. And after countless painful attempts at crafting "knock, knock" jokes, ("Knock, knock." "Who’s there?" "Pineapple." "Pineapple who?" "Pineapple unintelligible muttering that leaves me wanting to claw my eyes out." And that was one of the better ones.) Noah has finally found a form of humor that works for him. Practical jokes.
The foundation was laid back in September. My mother had gone to our local historical society’s garage sale fundraiser. At one point in the afternoon, I looked outside and noticed two short legs hanging down from the chair-swing in our tree. The back of the swing was facing me, but I could just barely see a hint of a hat above the top of the swing. The strange thing was, it looked like someone was SLUMPED OVER in the swing. And all of my kids were inside, so it wasn’t any of them.
I decided to go out and investigate. Which freaked Noah out because he was seriously afraid that there was someone DEAD in the swing. I was a little more rational and checked it out.
Read more at Grimm Realities…
I sit here, staring at my screen, knowing that what I’m about to type is a horrible contradiction. That, in some ways, this entire website is a horrible contradiction.
For a very long time, I have been struck by the idea that, as women and mothers, we sell ourselves short. We look around us and, instead of seeing the wonderful, amazing things that we do, we just see all that we HAVEN’T accomplished. The ways that our friends and neighbors do better than us. The goals we haven’t reached. The impossible ideals that we have failed to meet.
When I was a kid, I decided to write down my ideas of what would someday make me a good mother. I wish I could find the journal that I put it in. All I can remember now is that I wanted to start teaching my kids the piano from infancy so they would learn it just like they learned to talk. When Noah was born, I did try to put that theory into practice. And you know what? Babies don’t do scales. Unless they are prodigies. And mine aren’t.
Read the rest of my explanation for moving my blog at Grimm Realities…
No, I haven’t dropped off of the face of the planet. Instead, I have been working on a project. Come visit me at my new website!
I promise, I even put up a new blog post!
Comment when you get there. Let me know you found me. Let me know what you think. I have plans for my little corner of the world wide web, and I want you all there with me!