Kids, man. So difficult, so frustrating, so infuriating while simultaneously (or darn near it) so adorable, so kind, so forgiving, so loving. How do they do that??

My kids are experts. And please don’t think I’m bragging. I can assure you that I am not. I wish they failed horribly at this, but they are smooth criminals, people.

This morning, for example. It was a pretty typical school day morning. Nobody’s listening, everyone’s whining, sisters are fighting, doors are slamming… nobody has gone potty or brushed her teeth and everyone is crying and CALGON TAKE ME AWAY.

All of a sudden, Olivia’s attitude flips like a switch. She saunters over to me, sits down on the floor (next to me, because I’m pinning Audrey down while trying to secure her sneaker without breaking her flailing little foot), takes my hand and Audrey’s hand (bold move, sister.). She then says, quietly, “Mommy, you don’t like it when I yell. It makes you mad. I don’t like it when you yell. It makes me sad and it makes Audrey cry and it makes you and Daddy fight. We should all try very hard to be gentle.”

Then she puts our hands together and says, “Go Team Quiet!”

Oh, child. Are you kidding me with this? All the ponies. All of them.

And trust me when I say her little sister pays attention. She is a wise young grasshopper. I mean, her bedtime stall tactics are epic. However, she disarms me with actions rather than the sweet words of her sister.

When I’m at the edge… (usually because of her), she will find me and brush my hair away and shush me like her baby while patting my back. Or snuggle herself right into my shoulder.  Or she unleashes this:

But, mama. How could you be angry about the giant mess I made when I am THIS ADORABLE?



Woman, please. I OWN YOU.

Am powerless against that face. I guess the gypsies will have to find other children to buy.

*I am obviously kidding and would never contemplate selling my children. I’d never do that to gypsies!


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