I was the mom with the clingy screaming kid. The one who hung out in the hallway to make sure he was ok and got very nicely shoo’d away by the teacher’s aid.
Then I went to go pick him up and he was in a HORRIFIC mood. He told me they had animal crackers for a snack, he was nice to the other kids, he didn’t listen, and the teacher was “bad” (i.e. didn’t take his crap).
Let’s hope the little rebel decides to play the game. If not, he has a loooong 15 years ahead of him.
On a lighter note, this is Ethel’s “WTF, man.” face:
Payne has recently taken on the role of Mama Bird:
He even yanks the food back when she tries to grab it and corrects her with “Uh-uh! Let my do it. D’ere you go.”
Last night I got back from half a day to myself, and Payne met me at the door exclaiming “Mommy, you’re back! I was so worried ’bout you, and then I ate pizza!”.
Sometimes I worry about stuff too, son, and then I eat pizza. Mmm, pizza; the true opiate of the masses.
I’m having deja-vu:
Also, she is going through a huge verbal developmental phase. She says “Uh-oh” in context, and will wave and say “Bah” when we leave somewhere. If you say “No” to her she often grins and shakes her head back and forth, and last night I was trying to teach her “yes” and she was smiling ear to ear while saying “esh”. Babies learning to speak are pretty much the cutest thing on the planet.
Payne ate his lunch in the car after going to the pool the other day.
I snuck a look back on the way home, hoping he’d fallen asleep.
They have so many toys.
So we went to the beach last week. My parents very generously rented a condo in Florida and invited lots of family to come:
Payne begged me to “firate pight” with bubble wand “swords” continuously.
We just got back from vacation, and while it was a great trip, and my family was a huge help, I was feeling the strain of parenting a bit.
Between having to plan and prepare snacks for every beachy occasion, plan trips outside according to weather, nap schedule, and the particular sun and sand tolerances of each child, and dealing with a teething baby that just. wanted. her. crib….let’s just say that I was fantasizing about Dan catching a non life threatening yet convenient sterilizing side effect carrying case of mumps.
I also maybe thought about leaving the kids with the condo as a sort of farewell gift to the complex manager. There, I said it.
Then this morning, on the way to the airport, Payne addressed a fussy Genevieve with “Dohn cry Gen-veev! We bee d’ere soon”. He also told her to “stop being cwazy”. Plus.
And then Genevieve was that screaming baby on the airplane that the childless people thought “Why don’t they just make that baby shut up. They’re such lazy parents. My kids will be well behaved in public!” about. Minus.
And then we taught the baby to say “uh oh”, so now she drops something, we say it, and she squeaks out “Dut-ohhhh”. There is nothing more adorable than this. I don’t care how many kitten photos you’ve seen on Facebook. Plus.
And the kicker, right before bed we were asking Genevieve where Daddy/Mommy/Payne was, and she would turn and look at the right person. Her most enthusiastic response by far was to Payne’s name. Plus.
I’m officially glad I didn’t give them away.
They may be 23 and 26 years old respectively before I consent to another family vacation, though.