Schedule pediatrician appointments, make haircut appointments, new shoes all around, soccer sign-ups x2, submit medical forms x3, check cafeteria accounts, schedule tumbling lessons, parent info meeting, register for gymnastics (on real computer, not mobile friendly), meet the teacher, potty-train the three-year-old in a week since I wasn’t pay
I saw a meme that said ‘There is something magical about an empty classroom in the summer. You can just imagine all the possibilities to come.’ Or something like that; I can’t remember exactly because I scrolled past it pretty quickly after thinking, ‘It’s magical because it’s quiet—but I’m about to send them back to you!’
In these divided times we live in, I hope we can agree on a couple of things: fat babies are the cutest babies, videos of people falling or being scared by loved ones on the internet are life-giving, none of us actually know how to navigate the roundabout in Ridgeland, people who unpack all their bags and complete the laundry cycle that ensues
It took me reaching my early 30s to admit that I’m just not that into music. Thank goodness I’m married or what would I put on my eHarmony profile in place of ‘loves music and going to concerts’? What kind of weirdo doesn’t like music? That’s not completely accurate though; I do like music—I’m just not obsessed with it.
I am raising three women. They are girls right now, but they will be women when I’m done with them—I hope. That’s the plan anyway. I’m aiming for three distinct versions of confident, fulfilled, kind, and brave badass women. There are so many things I do not care about regarding my children’s futures.
I don’t get weepy at much. My friend, Mary Straton Smith, knows that military homecoming videos can bring me to my knees and uses this to derail my day by tagging me in the tear-jerkiest of tear-jerkers that she comes across on social media—but I don’t cry at my kids’ performances or first or last days of school.
I was walking through Target recently and saw an advertisement for kale cleanser and wondered why in the world kale needs a special cleanser. I mean—I know it occasionally needs massages but surely it’s not such a high maintenance veggie that it requires its own type of cleanser.
Living with children is like living out Alanis Morissette’s song, “Ironic.” Isn’t it ironic that my children suddenly become allergic to playing outside when I need them to so I can cook supper? It’s almost as ironic as how quickly they flee the house when I we need to leave to go somewhere in the next 10 minutes.
When my family came home from the beach, I had 36 hours to execute a massive laundry turnover, pack my big girls for camp, get new tires on my car (or risk my dad not being able to sleep at night thinking about the baldness of my rear tires,) and pack myself for the 1,200 mile trip to and from North Carolina for camp drop-off.