The other day, I wrote a cryptic post about a defining moment that I was hoping to have last Wednesday and that, if all went well, would be the first step in helping me to figure out which way my internal tug-of-war would go.
All posts by Pink Me Not Mom
More Sleepovers
Chloe slept at her best friend’s house on Thursday night (the lucky dogs didn’t have school yesterday). She confessed to me today (actually, she mentioned it in passing and then I called her out on it) that her friend’s mom (who’s also a close friend of mine) took them our for an ice cream at 11 pm! I don’t think I ever had a sleepover where the parents took us out for a late night ice cream run. I was duly impressed.
Sophie Has an Admirer
Our new next-door neighbors have a 2-year old girl. So as not to infringe on their privacy, let’s call her Amelia, as in Amelia Earhart, because she is an adventurer. She frequently comes to our house to visit. By herself. She’s even wandered into our house on occasion. She’s very cute. The first time she came to visit us, I thought it was because she coveted the play set in our backyard.
Defining Moments
I suspect, and I hope, that I may have one such moment tomorrow. And although it may turn out to be just a piece of a defining moment (with the rest to follow), I’ll settle for a piece right about now.
The Mall Milestone
We’re piling on the milestones as the girls get older. Today’s notable achievement: Chloe and a friend shopping on their own at the mall.
Chloe was so jazzed about this newfound independence that when we arrived at the shopping center, she ran towards Old Navy flapping her arms about like a bird bordering on extinction.
My Ears
My ears are the most abused part of my body. I experienced this epiphany yesterday when Chloe was talking to my right ear and Sophie was talking to my left ear. My 43-year old ears can’t take it anymore. The simultaneous cacophony has ruined my stereo-sound.
The Bicycle Queen
Sophie has been riding her big girl bicycle for almost two weeks now. As soon as we get home from work, she assaults us at the front door asking us to go outside so she can ride her bike. Sometimes, she forgets it’s raining outside.
When 1/10 is 2/10
Sophie does not like to be told she’s wrong. As the end of the school year approaches, Sophie is sick of homework.
Mother’s Day
My Mother’s Day actually started yesterday. With breakfast in bed. Pancakes, bacon, milk and orange juice, on a lucite tray I forgot we had, but which was perfect for this purpose. Chloe, Sophie and Papa accompanied the tray upstairs, and announced its arrival with a clash of cymbals. The girls made me terrific cards this year. Colorful and creative. The presents (outdoor dishes from Crate & Barrel and a new bluetooth headset) didn’t hold a candle to the cards. It was a pretty cool way to begin a weekend devoted to me.
When Mom Gets Blamed for Everything
My girls blame me for everything. Is that normal? Three days before Mother’s Day, no less? Here’s a representative sampling of the shit I get blamed for: