Be Like William – A Lesson in Kindness

“I want to bring THIS bike.”

We were heading out for our morning dog walk, and because I was letting his little brother ride on a cheap plastic pedal bike, my four year old wanted to ride HIS cheap plastic pedal bike instead of his regular big boy bike.

THIS is the dreaded bike, ridden by E in a photo from another day,

“It doesn’t work outside very well. E’s is small enough that when he tires of it I can hang it on the stroller. Yours is too big and I can’t carry it when you want to stop riding.”

“I won’t stop riding. I’ll ride it the whole way. ALL the way.”

“No, love, you won’t.”

“Yes. I will. I promise. Pleeeease!”

I had a choice. I could put my foot down, or I could let him learn the hard way. (Knowing full well him learning the hard way meant I’d be dragged down with him.) I took a breath.

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Pinterest Unworthy Easter Eggs

You know why I’m blogging about this you guys? It’s so that when you google ‘Dyeing Easter Eggs’, you not only see THESE beautiful specimens of artistic perfection, you also see MY somewhat less beautiful specimens of artistic… uh… effort, and don’t feel discouraged.

After deciding to dye some eggs with the boys today, I realized I don’t actually know HOW to dye eggs since it has been at least 2 decades since I’ve done it. So I googled it, and discovered that all the articles are about fancy ways to dye eggs, I guess for the high achievers among us? I had to change my search term from ‘dyeing easter eggs with kids’ to ‘how to dye easter eggs easy’ because I did not need ’26 New Ways To Dye Easter Eggs’.  I needed ‘Step by Step Egg Dyeing for Morons’.

What My Neighbour Saw

I’m certain that, had anyone witnessed what was happening this afternoon, their phone call to the police would have sounded something like this:

Witness: Hello? Police? Yes, I think I just witnessed a…  well, I’m not sure. Maybe a crime?

911: What was the crime, ma’am?

Witness: I’m not sure. Maybe a break and enter? Possibly child abuse, or maybe child abduction?

911: Explain what you saw.

Witness: Well this woman was pushing a stroller with a ton of stuff in it but no kid. But there were two kids screaming beside her. Like, really screaming, like maybe she wasn’t their mom.

Parking Lot Go Karting

For a brief period in October I was looking after a third child for a few weeks. I was hesitant to be entrusted with someone else’s kid because, to be honest, I’m a bit surprised that mine have survived as well as they have thus far. Safety is important to me, in a general sense, but I’m also from the ‘what doesn’t kill them makes them stronger’ camp and so whether it’s letting my son play with a sharp screwdriver (he did stab his little brother but it was an accident, and the resulting injury was minor), or letting them climb on things that seem a little unstable, I feel like my kids are taking little risks every day, but in the long run are learning important skills like managing risk and responsibility, and how to balance on wobbly stuff.

In Praise of Muddy Puddles

My husband was on call this week, which means after a full week of work, he then worked all day Saturday and most of Sunday and then every week day PLUS every evening. Some nights he didn’t get home til 9 or 10pm.It’s tough on him, but it’s brutal on me, because by the time his on-call week finishes, he needs some sleep.

Normally we take turns sleeping in on weekends (he gets Saturday, I get Sunday) but after a week on call, because I’m a nice human, I usually give up my Sunday sleep, feeling all magnanimous and energetic, and convincing myself I’ll be totally fine. And then Monday rolls around and I realize I’m exhausted, and that I’ve totally screwed myself out of any chance at sleep and now have to suffer through ANOTHER WEEK.

Listen to the Teacher

I’m sure every parent, upon sending their child off to school, recites the words, “Listen to the teacher” in some form or another. What I realized just last week when my son started preschool is that maybe it’s good advice for us parents, too.

My son is at a Parent Involvement Preschool, which means that once a month I get to be in his classroom to help out and clean up after the kids because goodness knows I need more things to clean in my life. I was scheduled for the very first day of school which was awesome, because it meant his transition from never, ever being away from mommy to being in preschool for 2 hours went very smoothly. It also meant I got to observe first hand over the course of a couple hours exactly how a teacher, trained specifically to wrangle a group of threenagers into order, deals with the kids.

I learned a lot.

I Nearly Shared a Onesie With a Spider

We got some hand me downs from a friend recently and included in the box was a pair of pajamas for my oldest, who is just about 4. They’re footed pajamas – you know, a onesie-type deal with a zipper from the bottom to the top. Of course M saw them and loved the bats on them (“It’s just like Batman!”) so he wore them to bed tonight. He looks adorable in them, of course, but I can’t help but think maybe he’s a little old for one-piece pajamas.

As I pondered this though, I was reminded that as I child, I really loved footed PJ’s. Like, LOVED them. I wore them til it was well past being socially acceptable. I must have been 13 or something.

13, ya’ll!