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Browsing Tag: family life

You Know the Cliche

Cian noticed the tulips in their vase on the kitchen island and stopped his play. “When are dey gonna open?” he asked me. I looked at them, perfectly shaped, as they must have been all week. I couldn’t say for sure: I’d picked them up for six bucks at the grocery store on Saturday and really hadn’t noticed them since. “Maybe tomorrow, buddy,” I said. “It happens slowly.” “Can I see dem?” “Sure,” I replied, and picked him up to set him on the counter beside the flowers. Nervously, I circled, staying close, because even though I had a bunch of things to do and the chances of him falling off and cracking his head open were slim, you know. I’m not one to assume. But he sat there for the longest time–come on buddy, I have STUFF to DOOOOO–and other than when he kept calling out, “Don’t take a pictchah of me! Stop LOOKING AT ME!” he was really happy to just…watch the tulips. “When are dey gonna open?&#8221…

We’re Just Going to Ignore the Fact That It Was All My Fault

Two days ago, Quinlan had a fever of 103.5 and was throwing up. She spent the night with me in our bed (David got relegated to…Cian’s bed, I think? Not sure. He’s always the one who gets relegated. All I know is that he helped me change the sheets after Vomit #1, slept through Vomits #2 and 3, and had to take the dog out twice, somewhere around 3 a.m. and 5. So he had to have been close. Though I’m sure he was wishing he were juuuuust a bit further away).  Quinlan’s very pulled together when she’s sick, I have to say. She was feverish and miserable, but woke to tell me she had to barf, did her thing into our handy bucket, politely said, “Mom? I’m finished barfing” and lay back down, each time. She’s a funny one, our Mighty.  One day ago, I embarked on a grand journey to finally figure out how to wear my hair naturally. While one might not think that this ranks on the same troublesome level as a feverish barfer, that one…

And Surrender Isn’t Exactly An Option

In the past week, we’ve had children crawling into bed with us at 5 a.m. (nightmares), coming back downstairs at nine p.m. (scary wind against windows), sleepwalking at 11 p.m. (accident, wet sheets), among other disruptions. We have discovered dog food crushed into rugs, crayons on the doors, paper towel rolls in the sink, Nerf arrows shot into the walls. Stuffed animals have been peed on, have been washed, and have been dried in front of the fire because if you try to stick a stuffed animal in the dryer the house starts to smell like burning chemicals. Someone decided to add water to her milk just to see what it would taste like. I found a carrot on the floor this morning, even though the last time the kids ate carrots was Saturday. The floor’s been washed since then. It just…appeared. On the floor. A carrot. We’ve been late getting out the door to school because Quinlan tried to wear a skirt with yesterday’s pizza sauce still on it and refused to change, and it took Saoirse a full ten minutes to button her uniform shirt…