“Mo-om!” my four year old wailed as I came upstairs from throwing in a load of laundry. “Anneliese sixpadeed my puzzle!!” Sure enough, her Pocahontas puzzle, which she had nearly completed, lay in pieces once again, scattered on the kitchen floor. Her two year old sister just can’t resist the urge to sixpadee. She will yell the made-up word as…
My husband keeps an impressive garden. For me, the city girl, “garden” always meant a tomato plant or two, a couple pepper plants, and a few snow peas tucked up against the backyard fence. For my husband, it means mini farm. Just battling the weeds is a full time job. My husband does 95% of the work. But I like…
It’s becoming a tradition that our household gets serious about potty training on Independence Day. Let freedom ring! Well…to be honest it will be awhile before we are free of having to change diapers for two. But modest progress was made with my almost-three year old. Last Fourth of July, my sister-in-law trained my oldest, then three, with the “bare…
Momhood means having to make a pit stop now and then in awkward–er–that is, creative places. Gotta do what you’ve gotta do, as I told my husband the evening after one such stop I made last week. I was dropping off my friend in a busy city that always has at least a dozen major road repair projects going on…
Over Memorial weekend, I ran my first marathon. That’s right. A six day, 90 diaper, 965 mile, out-of-state “vacation” with a four year old, a two year old, and and eight month old. Like all marathons–so I’ve been told–there were moments of euphoria. Mostly induced by tollway diesel fumes. And there were low points when I just wanted to run…