I’ve reached the point of summer where all I do in regards to parenting is shrug.
I’m writing this to you 3,000 feet in the air while watching The Greatest Showman (Nat: This would be much better if Hugh Jackman suddenly turned into Wolverine mid-routine).
I realized I’m pretty much constantly “on edge” around my kids every single time we’re in public together without Nat.
It feels like such a luxury to be doing something outside at night together. (And really, between paying for lessons and babysitters and timing, it is a luxury.) But it’s so fun and freeing and good to be doing this.
The beauty of summer Fridays.
Things are lazy.
My Mother’s Day.
That we could go bike riding. Actually, I have always kind of forgotten about this. Because Sam never really rode a bike. He’s always been the tallest kid in the room and by the time he was mentally ready to ride a bike, he was too big for the bike for his age group (for…
I’m going on a week-long work trip, by far the longest I’ve ever left my little family and am feeling a variety of feelings (“feeling a variety of feelings” — how is that for good writing?).
I want to set fire to my entire closet. I hate every single article of clothing I own. All my shoes. My socks. My underwear. Everything.
At drop-off this morning my friend/neighbor/fellow daycare parent mentioned to me that there was a contestant on Survivor who reminded her of me. “Kelly something or other?” she said. It piqued my interest as, well, I had no idea Survivor was still on and aren’t you ever curious what you look like to the outside…
I got bit and want spring.