#3 lay on our bed, text book opened before her, chewing on the end of her pencil. At the edge of the bed Wife sat, waiting to see if #3 understood the lesson. #3 carefully wrote out the equation, working through the problem with more deliberation than most juries. Then she jumped up like a startled cat, hackles raised.
“Ouch, ouch,” she cried.
Moments before calamity struck
Laundry has always seemed an uphill battle. As soon as the washing machines shut off and the dryers finish their cycle, more dirty clothes inexplicably appear out of thin air. Of course, no one seems to know who dirtied their clothes. Almost as if little people paw into the children’s drawers and pranced outside in them during the night.
A never ending battle
I remember a time when the children’s comfort was our daily goal. To keep the child happy and dry held our undivided attention. Unless she was sleeping, the baby did not leave our arms. And Heaven help us if the toddler’s socks got wet. I suppose you might say we learned that the children are not as breakable as we first thought. Continue reading
The time had come. The chains had to be broken. The cycle had to stop. New rules had to be set in motion. For man does not live on bread alone. (Dramatic enough?)
It was time to wean #8 from his bottle. Continue reading
Ever since #10 joined our club, I have had a little trouble with some of our members. Well, really only two, #8 and #9. It is not that they dislike their little sister or resent their mother. It is a problem of space. They cannot occupy the same space at the same time, despite how hard they push each other.
While the household prepared for Mass on a bright Sunday not long ago, I noticed, seemingly for the first time, that my girls had become young women. Continue reading