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Category: General

I Swear to You I Just Yawned Typing This

Cian woke up yesterday beside me. He was stuffy with a cold and at some point in the middle of the night had crawled in between me and David for some hugs or comfort or the sheer pleasure of lying just so on top of both David and me so that we smothered from his weight, thereby insuring an early advance on the piddly inheritance we’d leave him. He sat straight up–it was 6:15 a.m.–and looked to the sunlight already breaking through the slats of the blinds over the bedroom windows. “Is it moe-ning?” he asked. His voice had a tone of awe to it one would think more aptly used by a person entering a grand cathedral, or seeing the Rockefeller Tree light up at Christmastime. I mumbled that yes indeed, darling, it was in fact the bright, bright, early morning, and I burrowed myself back deeper under the covers. But Cian would not be discouraged. He let out this sort of half-laugh, half-gasp: “I’ve been WAITING for it to be moe-ning!” I love my children. I admire them, and think…

Long Eyes: On Seeing the Big Picture (and Not Embarrassing the Kids)

It’s Thursday, and the weather has finally cooled enough here that you can walk outside without the humidity slobbering all over you like a drunk date. David drove the girls to school this morning, so Cian and I took the dog for a walk around the neighborhood before I got ready for work (more on that in another post–I’m still writing from home, but my approach to it has changed). As we rounded the block, Cian was looking for our house–he really wanted to know what the back of it looked like from down the hill. Finally, he spotted it: “There it is! That’s our house, right?” Now, I’ve needed glasses since I was five. “You can see that far?” I asked, totally impressed–and maybe a little jealous–by this kid of mine with perfect vision.”Yup!” he said. He was skipping. “I have long eyes.” Long eyes. Oh, to have long eyes. For the past few months, whenever I’ve sat down to write something here, I’ve stalled. I write half-finished drafts…

Oh, He Said It

Note: I’m blushing as I type this, and I almost didn’t post it, because I can’t retell this story without wanting to die just a tiny bit inside. But this is what you get when you’re candid with your kids. THIS, my friends, is what we deserve: As the preschoolers filed out of the school this morning, Cian’s teacher pulled me aside. “Hey,” she laughed. “I have something for your blog.” “Oh, no,” I said. Mrs. O. let the comment slide, because she has a great sense of humor and this story was too good not to share.  “We were upstairs,” she continued, “and Cian was looking up at a picture of a leprechaun. I said, ‘Hey, Cian! That looks like you.’ Cian was looking up. ‘No,’ he said. “He has a beard.’” “‘Well, you’re going to have a beard one day,’” Mrs. O. said she told him.  “Yeah,” he replied. And then he shrugged. “‘And hair on my penis.’” Yep. That’s what…