So Studious

I came into our bedroom to find this on Jared's side of the bed.

Grey had turned on the reading lamp, put on Jared's glasses and was intently 'reading' an anti-Hillary book (Hillary's Secret War--if you are interested). Good boy. My first thought was, "Uh-oh. Jared is going to flip!" Then I had to get a picture. Luckily no damage was done to the thin, breakable glasses. He just wanted to be like his daddy. Funny thing is that I remember doing the same thing with my mom's glasses as a little girl.


Lime Green Frogs

Grey started soccer this past Saturday on the Lime Green Frog team. He has been excited and waiting for it for so long. He told me everyday all summer long that "it was taking too long to get here!" He has been practicing lots and wore his shinguards around as much as I would let him.

The night before his excitement got to him and he could not fall asleep for two hours and then woke up at 6AM ready to go.

As soon as we got to the field, he grabbed a ball and started kicking it around and making goals. With each goal he would jump up with his hands in the air and yell, "SCORE!" Then high-five Jared or whoever was around to see. Hahaha.... What a hilarious boy! He was also pretty pumped about snack time. Juice and Nutri-grain bars. You would have thought they gave him handfuls of doughnuts and candy for how excited he was about it.

And a little video--he is in the red shorts with the orange ball and high-fiving Jared at the end.

An outing... finally

I am attempting a few outings here and there now that I am getting a bit of energy back. Although I am doomed to bed all afternoon still if I try to do too much. Like taking them to the museum. Ugh. When will I ever be normal again?!!

Last week I used some free coupons I had for the Children's Museum. I hadn't taken Grey there since he was about Elise's age. And obviously Elise had never been. They both had a blast! And were worn out enough that they both threw fits as we were leaving. Nice.

But before the meltdowns, Grey got to try his hand at many different career paths:

Firefighter G (his favorite--we did it twice)

Fisherman G

Scientist G? (Catching big bubbles is a stretch)

Woodworker G (check out the nerd glasses-hah!)

And Elise of course had a blast just running all over and getting into everything humanly possible. So glad it is a place that it is okay to do so.



This has been posted on facebook but if you haven't read it--you MUST. If you are a husband or childless person that wonders why stay-at-home mothers are so busy, PLEASE read. And if you are a mother--this should make you feel better. I always look back on my day and say, "What did I do today?" I never even get a quarter of the way through my to-do lists. You would think that since I don't have an "official" job I would be sitting around watching TV, reading books, and lounging all day. Um, no.

Thank you Carolyn Hax for putting it in perspective!


By Carolyn Hax

Wednesday, May 23, 2007 


Best friend has child. 

Her: exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. 

Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? 

Her: Park, play group . . .

Okay. I've done Internet searches, I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them EVERY DAY. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events) and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy—not a bad thing at all—but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a peeing contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions. 

Tacoma, Wash.

"Internet Searches?" "Relax and enjoy?" You're funny.

Or you're lying about having friends with kids.

Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom-friends are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.

So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.

It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything—language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends, or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand or keep your snit to yourself.

Write to Tell Me About It, Style, 1150 15th St. NW, Washington, D.C. 20071, ortellme@washpost.com.