As it turns out, it is not my full-time job to be their entertainment. Even mommies need a sick day!
We all have those days when we suck at being moms. When we’re tired or sick or hurting or just otherwise checked out a little for whatever reason. At least, I hope we do, and I’m not the only one who’s spent a day saying “no” to playing with my kids. Who’s asked them to entertain each other while Daddy’s at work because I can’t think of one more activity to do together, and even if I could I don’t have the energy for it.
A few days ago I woke up with an anvil in my sinuses and fire in my throat, aching all over. Were my job not such a workaholic’s dream, I would’ve called in sick. But of course I didn’t have that option…read more at Rocky Parenting
My Rocky Parenting post this week is really an issue I reflect on constantly. How can I teach my kids to love themselves in a world that definitely isn’t going to always love them?
As I get ready to send my 5-yr-old to kindergarten in the fall, I worry a lot about bullying. While it’s the job of the adults around to help prevent or stop the acts of bullying once they’ve begun, I also know that it’s inevitable my sweet N will encounter at least teasing and hurt feelings. Not every child is going to come from a home teaching them compassionate tolerance, and the messages society sends to little boys who like pink and purple are not exactly encouraging…read more at Rocky Parenting
On Rocky Parenting today: the importance of taking your kids to work.
It is always this time of night that drags me under. Midnight, 1am. I kiss first N’s then Little K’s warm cheek and make sure toes are snugly covered. And when I go to bed, I miss them. I want to scoop up those sweaty little weights and smuggle them into bed with me so I can hold time still. Keep them small and sleepy and tangled in dreams of dinosaur tails.
Those salty-sticky, tired heads are getting so big, so fast. Little K says proudly “I am turned three now!” and wants to do all of everything on his own. I filled out kindergarten paperwork this week for a child named N, but I swear my son with the same name just turned two last week. I keep buying bigger shoes and measuring higher on the wall, but I’m in denial until I catch a sidelong glance at long big-boy legs or a missing dimple on a wrist. And then I’m shocked.
N has his first crush at school, on a little brown-haired firecracker called C. He told his dad with nothing but innocence at dinner last night: “Daddy, I figured out why I love C! Her middle name is Nicole, just like Mama’s middle name. And I love Mama.” I may always be his first love, but this spot as his best is getting shorter every day. I already see the side swept hair of a teenaged boy embarrassed of his mom’s affection.
From Rocky Parenting today, my post on the small gifts friends offer us.
Polished Stones and Hitting the Jackpot
There are certain conversations with old friends that I collect, like polished stones washed up on a beach, carried around and turned over in my hand when I need to find a memory. It may be a lifelong best friend saying she’s glad you’re still in each other’s lives, or it may be your best mommy friend telling you your ass looks great in that one pair of jeans. Not life-altering, late-at-night, spilling your guts out conversations, but just shiny little snippets I carry…read more at Rocky Parenting.
Ten year married, and we’re still sane ;)
My husband and I were planning an anniversary trip the other day, and we mentioned that we’ll have been married 10 years in March. 5-yr-old N overheard the conversation and said, “Wow, you guys have been married ten years? It feels like twenty!” We just laughed and agreed – it does feel like twenty most of the time.
Caiti Mondragon had a great post last week about accomplishing a decade of marriage, and the ten-year mark does really feel like a big one. When it comes up in conversation, people have been congratulating me, and I keep seeing articles and blog posts about the admirable things couples have done to make it to the big ten. Which leads me to believe in this age of staggering divorce rates, going strong at ten years must be more impressive than I thought….read more at Rocky Parenting