Yesterday, my seven year old said to me, “I want to play Legos upstairs.” I glanced up from my phone, and said, “ok, go ahead.” He replied, “No. With you.” WITH YOU. Both of my kids say this all the time. If they go upstairs, out in the backyard, or even to the bathroom, they want me
In the past year I have read several articles about the “emotional labor” and “mental load” of motherhood. Moms plan/coordinate everyone’s schedules, arrange carpools, schedule doctors appointments, research and schedule contractors/repairmen, plan vacations, arrange teacher conferences, locate missing household items, keep track of homework due dates, plan/coordinate meals, manage clothing needs, and even make
My youngest son started Kindergarten five weeks ago. He was one month away from his fifth birthday—a peanut in my book—and separating from us at drop-off time was difficult. Most mornings, he cried. And, my older son, his big brother, started putting his arm around the back of his neck and lovingly guiding him in
My children’s first day back to school went off without a hitch this year. Days two and three? Not so much. The following words might help explain…”emergency heat-index early dismissals.” Despite having air conditioning in his school, my second grader got sent home at noon on these days while my twelfth grader remained in school
I have to come to realize that we all have some type of madness lurking in our homes now, and am learning to just laugh about the insanity of it all So, here is what life is like in my house. Hopefully, you can relate.
“What’s wrong baby?”
“Mama, I need to poop.”
My first thought was literally, “Oh crap.”
We’ve all heard the African adage “It takes a village to raise a child.” It has taken an unfortunate turn of events to remind me that I need to thank the people in my children’s village and tell them how much they mean to us.
Call me crazy, but I’d rather travel the globe with my kids than take them to Disney.
Just as I know that their bad days are not reflective of who they are, they know the same is true for me. They see all the good and all the bad in me, on my best days and my worst, and still love me fiercely, wholly, and are ready to pounce on any one who dare criticize me … even when that critic is me.
In fact, I find that most Mondays I return to work more exhausted than when I left on Friday. Sure, part of it is that we are trying to cram too much fun into each weekend, but another part of it is simply that “relaxing” activities of my carefree, childless days now require significantly more energy and work in order to be successful (or survive).