Top reason every Mom needs a camera? To freeze the fleeting moments of pure adoration so they can be thawed out later, when she can do no right in the eyes of her child.
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Lucky shot
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Category Archives: Oh Boy
Resilience
The best words ever: “I’m o-tay!”
Underwriters
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Get it together
Oh January, you wily creature, you. After the joyful upheaval of the holidays I am always desperate for you to arrive. We remove the Christmas tree from the living room and suddenly our crowded space seems limitless. A clean slate! Room to do cartwheels again!
And a week later, once the recycling truck has come and gone with an obscene amount of cardboard, I turn to my office and to my own aspirations for the new year.
And much like the tree and the living room, I search for space for my dreams and plans to stretch out and prepare for their own cartwheels.
My method usually starts with a good purging and a few thousand clear, plastic boxes. In my mind, there is no transition problem that can’t be solved with clear boxes and a label-maker.
In the midst of the sorting and the tossing, the lists and the goals, I aim to remember that my lofty 2012 resolutions also include this simple dictate: Have more fun.
To keep me focused on that essential goal, I add something to my office that needs neither clear box nor label…a print of the above photo with the following caption, overheard just the other day:
“Dad, come over here and build. It’s not just the organizing that’s fun.”
Deaf ears
“Do I have to go to the piano recital?”
Yes.
“Can I bring my DS?”
No. And before you ask why, I’ll remind you that this is a big deal for your sister. And we are a family who cheers each other on. We show up. We celebrate. We pay attention. We don’t sit in the audience tuned out and plugged into some little device. Got it?
Hold me
And just when you think your parenting skills have slipped precariously close to a failing grade, you catch somebody doing something like this.
Airmail
To be filed under: This is how boys communicate.
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I swear we are pacifists
Ah, the third child. He can charm his way through even the strongest convictions.
Just sayin
Turns out that of the many provocative phrases my toddler has learned from his older siblings, “butt fart” is not the most offensive to my ears.
I’d take it any day over this one: “Not fair, Mama! Not fair!”
Mothering the other species
Seven years ago I became the mother of a son. Though there was a brief moment during my pregnancy when the idea seemed improbable and daunting, mothering boys now feels like the most natural thing in the world to me.
My inaugural boy, my Rascal, was the first to teach me some very important nuggets about mothering the other half…
I learned that toy trains are for crashing into each other, rocks are for throwing into rivers, and towers are for building and knocking down. Again and again and again.
I learned that two can play at the bathroom humor game and sometimes it’s the only way to gain cooperation.
I learned to carry a Hot Wheels car in my purse and a soccer ball in my car. At all times.
I learned that getting a boy to talk about his feelings has nothing to do with saying the right words, but everything to do with being in the right place at the right time and keeping my mouth shut.
I learned that raised surfaces, no matter if they are 3 inches or 30 inches high, are always the perfect launchpads.
I learned that you can never own too many lightsabers.
I learned that when in doubt, shout “Tag! You’re it!” and run like hell.
Happy Birthday, Rascal! I love you to outer space and back.
