Emma is hazing the daycare staff. Again. Apparently, her usual teacher, Miss Jessica, was out on Wednesday of last week. And, Emma did not approve of the replacement– Miss Amy. Sorry, Miss Amy. I understand you have a certificate in early childhood curriculum development. I’m sure you’re very accomplished. And caring. Please don’t feel badly that your efforts were completely undermined by my one-and-a-half year old. She occasionally does that to people. (By occasionally, I mean always.) She can be a bit . . . let’s just go with “standoffish” . . . around people she hasn’t known for at least six months. (Or more.) It’s just her process.
Monthly Archives: April 2014
Curses
You never know what sort of things kids are paying attention to.
Yesterday morning, I was having breakfast with Jacob (my four-and-a-half year old) and Emma (one-and-a-half) and all of a sudden, Jacob started beeping. Yes, beeping. LOUDLY.
Jacob: BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.
Birthday Party
It’s time to plan my son Jacob’s birthday party. (Any takers? Because I’m TOTALLY willing to delegate this.) I’ve tried to ignore this fact over the past few weeks. But I can’t. It’s hard to ignore when every time I turn around, someone is asking me for my child’s date of birth. Or Jacob is asking, “MOMMY: WHEN IS IT GOING TO BE MY BIRTHDAY?!?” Right. That. It’s coming up. In just a few months. Just days before we move. AWESOME timing.
Stuff
We are planning to move. Which means we are packing. Endless. Amounts. Of stuff. Usually this process inspires the thought: WHY DO I HAVE SO MUCH CRAP? Not for me. Not this time. This time is different. As I put the (incredibly-annoying-always-splits-in-the-middle) packing tape on the 45th box (yes, I counted) I had this thought: “WHY DO MY HUSBAND AND CHILDREN HAVE SO MUCH CRAP?” Seriously, I think only three of the boxes were mine.
State of the Emma Address
Last week Mommy gave you some updates on our family. Yes, my four-and-a-half-year old brother Jacob is still obsessed with “Frozen”. Yes, he may never make it to kindergarten. (Seriously, Mommy, just register him already.) Yes, we FINALLY sold the house. Blah, blah, blah. You might have noticed something missing from these updates.
Fumbling Toward Naptime 