I'm unable to decide which is least painful on a Saturday morning; four hours at my son's football game starting at 6:30am or just under two hours at my other son's soccer game starting at 7:30am but with Little Z in tow?
A strange but serious dilemma.
Friday, October 30, 2015
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Diary of a Confused Mom: October 29th 2015
I plan to write to the creators of Mr. Men because they need to add a character that provides representation for Little Z. It would be Mr. Unreasonable.
Diary of a Confused Mom: October 28th 2015
Little Z announced that he needs to do his "homework."
So T gave him a paper and once he was done offered to check it for him. Apparently his scribbles exceeded expectations and earned him an A+ :)
So T gave him a paper and once he was done offered to check it for him. Apparently his scribbles exceeded expectations and earned him an A+ :)
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Diary of a Confused Mom: October 27th 2015
I just realized on my walk today, that the children's story book "The Giving Tree" by Shel Silverstein, which I have always found to be extremely sad and gloomy, is talking about mothers.
Made it even more miserable for me.
Made it even more miserable for me.
Monday, October 26, 2015
Diary of a Confused Mom: October 23rd 2015
Yesterday O told me he sees me as "young, slim and beautiful." If I was an animal I'd be a "Mama Bear." I was wondering how this fits into the slim category when he elaborated "They are loving, viciously protect their cubs and in this case not fat."
The most beautiful thing about children is that they are sincere, so a compliment like this just means so much more...
The most beautiful thing about children is that they are sincere, so a compliment like this just means so much more...
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Diary of a Confused Mom: October 22nd 2015
Yesterday at bedtime, Little Z informed me that he did not want to sleep.
So I said sweetly "Mummy needs to sleep, so let's go to bed and rest, ok?"
"Ok," he answered, "Goodnight Mummy." And he walked off to his toys.
We did finally get to bed, and these days, I'm sleeping with the kids while their dad is away. This has introduced me to a world of nighttime eccentricities that I was unaware of.
O whimpers in his sleep sometimes and T talks. They both end up entangled somehow, which causes some morning frustration and disputes.
Little Z will also whimpers occasionally. It's sort of in between talking out loud and whimpering. And every night, without fail, he must end up sleeping in a diagonal position, so even a queen sized bed becomes a real squeeze for the two of us.
So I said sweetly "Mummy needs to sleep, so let's go to bed and rest, ok?"
"Ok," he answered, "Goodnight Mummy." And he walked off to his toys.
We did finally get to bed, and these days, I'm sleeping with the kids while their dad is away. This has introduced me to a world of nighttime eccentricities that I was unaware of.
O whimpers in his sleep sometimes and T talks. They both end up entangled somehow, which causes some morning frustration and disputes.
Little Z will also whimpers occasionally. It's sort of in between talking out loud and whimpering. And every night, without fail, he must end up sleeping in a diagonal position, so even a queen sized bed becomes a real squeeze for the two of us.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Diary of a Confused Mom: October 21st 2015
Based on Little Z's request, I gave the little 'customer in training' shopping cart at Whole Foods another try today.
It's amazing how a few short months will change a child.
This time, no broken eggs and no frantic mother chasing after a speedy toddler on the loose with his glass-bottle-demolishing metal cart on wheels.
I had to herd him a bit, but we got our short list of groceries done, and he only crashed into my foot once.
I couldn't say who was feeling more proud at the end of it.
On another note, I sometimes wonder how some of T's socks get into some of the places where I find them? I mean a sock on the floor I can understand, and even one on the living room couch is the price for having a scruffy child, but I'm not exactly sure how they end up on the shelves?
It's amazing how a few short months will change a child.
This time, no broken eggs and no frantic mother chasing after a speedy toddler on the loose with his glass-bottle-demolishing metal cart on wheels.
I had to herd him a bit, but we got our short list of groceries done, and he only crashed into my foot once.
I couldn't say who was feeling more proud at the end of it.
On another note, I sometimes wonder how some of T's socks get into some of the places where I find them? I mean a sock on the floor I can understand, and even one on the living room couch is the price for having a scruffy child, but I'm not exactly sure how they end up on the shelves?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)