this is a page for

Browsing Tag: Cian

Maybe He’ll Help Me Figure Out the Answer to Some of Them

Cian has a bit of a speech impediment–if you’ve just met him, you might have some trouble understanding his “th” sounds, say–but that doesn’t stop the child from talking, usually constantly, usually about thirty different topics in the span of as many seconds. Last Saturday, I drove him and his sister Saoirse to a gym about an hour away from our house for her basketball game. The boy talked¬†the entire time. I say this without exaggeration. Cian spoke, without stopping, the entire 54 minutes it took us to get from our house to the gym. He talked as he got out of the car and took my hand, and he kept talking as he followed us into the building. It had gotten to the point where I just turned the radio up and muttered, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh” at regular intervals on the drive because I’m pretty sure he didn’t really need me to listen in the first place. Saoirse said, “Mom. You’re not even listening to him,” and when I made eye contact with her in the rear…

More Than You Can Shake a Stick At

The kids were off school this past Friday for their spring break, and David took off work so that we could do something as a family. I don’t know what it’s like in your world, but in ours there are times where all the red flags start flying and we realize that we need a “reset” day: just some time together to do something a bit different, something that means we get to hang out together, experiencing something new–and something that, hopefully, will require lots and lots of walking so as to tire the kids out so they sleep in the next day. (It’s all for the kids, I tell you.) So, this past Friday we decided on a road trip to Washington, D.C., with the idea of seeing some dinosaur bones. We drove a couple hours into Maryland from our house in Pennsylvania, then surprised our suburban children with their first Metro ride (those initial moments of the train ride were the most exciting 30 seconds of their day…until they realized that they were going to look at nothing but dark tunnel walls for the next…

I’d Say There’s No Harm in That at All

The “baby” turned five over the holidays, which officially means that he’s not a baby and I need to give up the denial before it starts to get kind of creepy. His feet are huge. His hands are ginormous, to use one of his favorite words. He’s tall enough that I have to go up a size in his clothes again and he’s almost outgrown his car seat and he’s big enough that he’s starting to out-eat most adults when we sit down to meals. Pretty soon I’m going to be surrounded by all these friendly giants that somehow came out of me but are towering over me and I’m just not ready for that. Cian, by bringing up the rear, is simply rubbing it in. And yet: “I don’t feel five. I only feel four.” “You’re the best mom in the world. You’re so nice to me. You give me ginormous cookies.” “Mom? What if dinosaurs were real? And we could eat them and they lived in our house and our…