Big week for the graduating class of 2012. It’s finals week in the toddler room.
Will they eat all the food provided from the school kitchen? Can they successfully drink out of big boy cups? How will the transition to the new class go? Will they remember to come home in their own pants? (That last one proved a resounding No.) Continue reading
Tiny Two to College Graduation
The first thing I noticed when I picked up the muppets from the giant cat litter box preschool sandbox was that I no longer have babies – they have fully become little boys. The second thing I noticed was that Search was definitely wearing someone else’s pants.
Let’s go ahead and add that realization to the list of why toddlers aren’t terribly far off from frat boys. And with this latest educational promotion, it occurs to me that they’ll be in college approximately tomorrow. Continue reading
BooBoo
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Today I totally dropped the ball. Metaphorically speaking of course. Literally, I dropped a child.
Mother. Of. The. Year.
Acquiescing to toddler demands, and an intensely prideful desire to keep the pick-up line moving smoothly, I scooped Destroy up in my arms headed toward the car with his brother by my side.
Two steps later, in those 4-inch stiletto heels I have such an affinity for, the school speed bump got the better of me. Continue reading
Much like Scout the big black dog, Destroy collected all the shoes this morning.When his little arms were full, he toddled toward me chanting, “Shoe! Shoe! Shoe!”
In what I thought was a standard assumption, I took the shoes he offered out of his hands – promising we’d put them on just as soon as he put his pants on. This was not a popular decision with a certain toddler prone to tantrums thrown with dramatic flare.
He flung himself to the floor, flopping around like a floundering fish, moaning and wailing in a terrifically awesome muppet meltdown. “SHOOOOOEESSS,” he screamed amid his sobs and distinctly unhappy wiggles. Continue reading
Teacher: Where is… Emma?
Emma: <Giggles and points to self>
Teacher: Where is…Jamison?
Jamison: <Giggles and points to self>
Teacher: Where is…Destroy?
Destroy: <Confused look> Hi!
Teacher: Where is Destroy? Are you Destroy?
Destroy: <Looks thoughtfully at his teacher, toddles over toward Search>
Search: Sigh. <Points forcefully at Destroy with exasperated expression>
Destroy: <Happily points back at Search>
Teacher: That’s Search. *You’re* Destroy.
Destroy: No. Brother.
Search and Destroy reporting for duty! Tonight’s target mission: mommy’s sanity.
I *thought* I was having a rather put together day. Productive even. I finished up part of the project I was working on and strolled on out of the office right on time. When I got to the preschool, I strutted across the parking lot – exuding confidence. Continue reading
I got home late for dinner. “Hang on a sec – you’re impugning one of the bitches…” Uncle Mark was saying as I plopped into my seat.
Hey – I’m not one to judge. Who’s a bitch?
“My bitches,” said my 16-year-old cousin Mitch. Continue reading
I was just getting ready for a lunch meeting when my phone buzzed. My first inclination was to ignore it – my preference for most phone calls (email me please folks: tricia@streamoftheconscious.com) – but I saw the number.
I don’t even have the number programmed into my phone so I have those extra few moments of hope that it is not the preschool. Because nothing good ever comes from the preschool calling me in the middle of the day. Nothing.
2000: You'd never know we're 12 years older. We look exactly the same right?
I’m not sure how I feel about this arts & crafts project…
Cute or Creepy?
