You [nearly] cry tears of jealousy every time you look at your son's eyelashes. They're so thick and dark. Why do the boys always get those? At best, your eyelashes are puny and pale.
You try not to take it personally when your four year old cries at the sight of the sausage biscuits you got up early to prepare and asks for cereal instead. She just really loves cereal.
Your four year old offers you promises of cake, cookies, candy, and gum, sparkly shoes, and lots of dancing if I go with her to her "special place". And while it's cute coming from her, you now you know, verbatim, the words a pedophile could use to get her to willingly jump into the back of their van. (Seriously...not even a little bit funny.)
You are continually amazed by the marvel that is God's provision of healing to little children when just 10 days after seeing her skull through the gash in her head, your toddler's kissable forehead looks like this:
You know that glitter is the craft supply that keeps on giving. Kind of like how you find pine needles ground into your rug in March, so it goes with glitter...in your kids' hair...two weeks later.
It concerns you slightly that your four year old is so obsessed with "chapstick" and lip gloss. You just know she is going to be one high maintenance diva by the time she's...five.
You discover that drinking the melted remainder of your ice cream is not a learned behavior. It's pure instinct.
The only reason you endure your seven year old's basketball season is because of the promise of a fun end-of-season show where someone will do cool tricks like...balance 7 spinning balls on the head of a randomly-selected audience member.
You watch with intrigue as your toddler occupies herself for upwards of 15 minutes by putting toys inside her onesie and taking them back out.
You realize that the probability of your children waking up early increases significantly for every half hour later you stay up the night before. If you are up past midnight, early rising is inevitable.
When you first opened the goodbye treats from Grandmom, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the Scooby Doo Pop Rocks, but after watching your four year old giggle and giggle about the sounds in her mouth, it was all worth it.
That's all, folks. I'm on 3.5 hours of sleep, partly because I stayed up late (and that was my fault), and partly because Sarah got up at 4:55am bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (which is totally her fault, and the reason she's taking a morning nap for the first time in about a year).
Hope you all have a wonderful Wednesday! March 2nd? Seriously? When did that happen?
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3 comments:
I laughed repeated, and this week, it was mostly at Sarah.
I think it's funny that you got a diva when you are so very much NOT a diva yourself. I kind of wanted a diva, but no random diva gene popped up. My girls are just like their mom.
Bless their hearts...
(And Ben does have awesome eyelashes!!)
That was supposed to be "laughed repeatedLY".
Good grief. Teaching makes me dumb and dumber.
Momalicious as always. Sarah's forehead looks like it's making a miraculous recovery - yes, God's healing hands are marvelous.
Abby is my kind of girl - just so quirky, in a delightfully lovable way (notice how I assumed that everyone finds me lovable...)
Ben's eyelashes - could he clip some off and send them to me? A little glue, and I'd be set to go. Hang in there with the basketball - sounds like the end result is going to be worth it - SEVEN basketballs???
I'm sorry - but the "special place" remark was funny - not really, I know - but yes, it was.
And the onesie stuffing? Let's hope she's not practicing for her WonderBra years...
xoxo
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