Micah’s Father of the Year Award moment: accidentally teaching Squish that shovels = monsters. And not just any monsters, scary monsters. We’re suddenly even more glad there hasn’t been much snow this year.
How is it that my sons are totally into mermaids and ballerinas? I do not have any idea where they were exposed to mermaids. I think I can credit Angelina with the ballerina thing, but it was one book! That we read, like, twice. I suppose it could be worse. It could be Lady Gaga. (And not that I have anything against my sons being into such things . . . I’m just surprised.)
Manchild has suddenly been showing signs of patience with his little brother. The other day Squish knocked down his castle four times in a row and each time the boy explained to his brother how sad it made him that all his hard work had been ruined and that he had to start again. Of course, this was after he had tackled Squish away from the blocks. But I was impressed by how quickly he recomposed himself.
It is totally worth it to get up at 6:30 to go running with a friend once in a while. Even if you could get up at 8:00 and go by yourself.
I am growing my hair out a little bit and every time I get used to doing it a certain way, it is suddenly too long for that, or it bends the wrong way, or it generally seems to have it in for me.
This morning when the boys woke up, the first thing I heard was yelling. Followed by a thud. Followed by another yell, this time from the other one. I’m still trying to put together the pieces, but I think that Squish woke his brother up by jumping on him. Manchild was none too pleased.
Micah knows someone who doesn’t eat peanut butter sandwiches simply because she has never eaten a peanut butter sandwich. And really, why start now? Does anybody else have anything like that? Something they do or don’t do simply because they’ve always (or never) done it?