Commence Freaking Out in 5…4…3…2…

You’ll have to excuse me and Jenny for the next few days if we seem even crazier than normal (are you scared yet?), because next week…

Our babies start kindergarten.

I’m not sure how it happened, because really it was not very long ago that they looked like this:
kate and joshua babies

They’ve grown so much since then, and even though Jenny and I (ok, mostly Jenny) are bound to be a nostalgic, weepy mess in the coming days, we are both so, so proud of these two kids. We are so thankful that we’ve had the opportunity to watch them learn and grow in the last five and a half years.

And we are absolutely confident that they are ready for the next step of their journey.

katejoshua

Those two? They will do great.

The two of us? That remains to be seen.

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Watch Your Language

Last night before dinner, my family and I were sitting around in the living room just enjoying each other when Sophie asked for her favorite snack, goldfish crackers, which she just calls “fish”.

“Not right now, honey,” I said. “We’re going to have dinner in a few minutes.”

Sophie was not thrilled by my denial of her basic life needs and began sobbing her little heart out as if Dora the Explorer had just DIED or something. (Dude, I am like, the meanest mom EVER.)

Joshua, who didn’t hear the exchange, wondered what I had done to make her so forlorn.

“Why’s Sophie crying?” he asked.

“Because I wouldn’t let her have any F-I-S-H,” I explained, not wanting to say the word out loud and get her riled up again.

“You mean fish?” Joshua said innocently.

Sophie immediately began a new round of fussing and asking for more fish.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

“Uh-oh,” said my darling son in response to his sister’s fresh tears, “Looks like I shouldn’t have said the F-word!”

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X-Rated Arm Fat (Revisited)

Emily and I decided while we were at BlogHer, to choose one of our favorite “oldie but goodie” posts to share. This one was originally published by me on July 6, 2007, about two-and-a-half weeks after we started blogging! It’s still one of my favorite funny moments with my son. Enjoy!

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This morning my three-year-old Joshua and I were sitting on the couch. I was doing my makeup and he was playing with the fat on my upper left arm. Just why was he doing that? I can only guess it is because I am and have always been his favorite toy, jungle gym, and entertainment center.

As I applied foundation, he squeezed some of my arm fat between his hands. “Look Mommy! Your arm looks like private parts!” Hmm, just the words every mother longs to hear her son say. I looked over to see what shape he could possibly be creating with my cellulite when he stopped doing it. Perhaps it was the look on my face that made him drop the fat, but I didn’t get a look. But somehow my jiggle reminded him of some type of nudey parts. Greeeeeaaaat. Here’s the ensuing conversation.

Joshua: I’m going to tell Pop! (My father-in-law, who we are going to see tonight.)

Me: No, honey, it’s not nice to talk about private parts. We only talk about them with Mommy or Daddy. (Translation:Please for the love of God do NOT tell my father-in-law that my arm looks like private parts, or anything else that might cause him to call children’s services.)

Joshua: Right. I can tell Mommy or Daddy. Or Pop.

Me: No, honey, NOT Pop.

Joshua: Ok.

I have to stop writing now, so I can go get my 3 lb. hand weights and get these vagina arms into a more arm-like shape!! Apparently blogging is not giving them the workout they need!

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