Gavin’s school is holding its annual book fair this week. I love a book fair. Walking into a room or hallway transformed to display all sorts of stories exhilarates me. In preschool you will find big pink books, small open-the-flap books, books that pop with color or sparkle. I love every bit of it. Or did. Until this year when I was the victim of some book fair momfoolery. What’s momfoolery? Oh, that’s when you thought you had it all figured out, but your kid schools you in a major way. Continue reading
All my life I had wanted a big family, 3 or 4 minimum. That was before I experienced parenting first hand. After the challenge of being a first time mother I was honestly thinking that might be it. Having one changed my mind on having more. Then you know what happened? We had another. Having two children is the most rewarding experience of my life. Yes, it beats getting in to my first choice college, receiving my juris doctor, landing my dream job, and then leaving it to teach yoga. All of that pales in comparison to seeing my two children interact on a daily basis. Watching them share secrets, steal hugs, and laugh together is heartwarming beyond words. Overhearing my know-it-all first-born try to explain potty etiquette, or math, or the minimum safety requirements for jumping on mommy and daddy’s bed – and watching his reckless baby sister take the time to really listen – makes me laugh, tear up, and swell with pride all at the same time. For some people, having one child is the right choice. But if you are on the fence and feeling overwhelmed by first time motherhood, I am here to tell you to go for it and don’t listen to what Elizabeth Banks is saying.
I wrote at length about this topic today on Mommyish:
Someday in the future I am going to force my kids to write a nice letter to Bank of America, thanking them for any semblance of culture they might have. BofA hosts Museums on Us during the first weekend of every month. Without this program I would never have brought a 3yo and a 1yo to the Bronx Zoo, the Botanical Gardens or the Met. A trip like that is guaranteed to cost $100 when you factor in soft pretzels, dippin’ dots, and other various snacks. Saving $50-75 on admission really eases the sting of having to leave after eight minutes because someone’s diaper exploded on my dress (yes, that happened) or running through every exhibit with a crying child.
Whatever it is I have to tell you, my friends, I LOVE my kids. That’s right – this is big news. Everything they say and do is adorable. For four days straight!
On Friday I let Gavin eat a popsicle with his dinner. And you know what? He ate the popsicle first AND finished all his dinner. Then he got another one.
We went shopping and I scored this:
We spent Saturday at the park and I actually RAN when my son asked me to run. That’s right. I didn’t fake start to run and then just walk behind him. Like Forrest Gump, I was RUN-NING.
No tantrums, messes or incessant requests to “hold me mommy” could get me down last week.
I have infinite amounts of energy, patience and time for them. And it seems they have infinite amounts of love and hugs for me.
What is going on??? Can anyone explain? Surely my rose colored view of our time will darken, probably at the same instant I hit publish on this post. But until then I just want time to stop so I can soak up every amazing minute with my babies.
I simply cannot get enough of them right now.