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Browsing Tag: out of the mouths

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…

Who Needs Confidence, Anyway

You guys. My kids: they’re so sweet and kind and loving–but they need to work on their compliments. Example #1: I’ve stopped straightening my hair most days and am just letting the crazy waves be themselves. I’m still not too sure about living daily life looking like a knockoff Medusa, but the consensus from my girls is that I need to keep it this way, since it’s more “me.” I thought this was a good thing, but… …from Saoirse: “Mom. I like your hair longer. Now that you’re wearing your hair frizzy you should keep it that way.” Yep. Great. Example #2: First, you need to know 3 things: a) Our old house had a pool. We miss that pool very, very much; b) Quinlan loves that I’m a writer. She actually gets annoyed when she doesn’t see me overwhelmed and unwashed surrounded by notes and manuscript pages; and c) Most authors don’t make enough money to quit their day jobs, let alone afford extravagances. A child of one, though, has no concept of this. So… …Quinlan: “Mom. You need to…

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…