Do you ever sit there, ready to tear your hair out, rant and kick and scream about the circumstances in which you find yourself, seeing every error you have made that led you to where you are right that second? Yeah that’s what it’s like arguing with a four year old. Once you start down…
Some time ago Hawkeye’s Aunt Strawberry and her Chap brought Hawkeye this little stuffed parrot back from her holiday in the Canaries. At the time, he wasn’t particularly interested in it (or many other stuffed toys). However in more recent times he’s been quite attached to his growing collection of small animals. I am particular…
If this photo isn’t a metaphor for childhood, I don’t know what is. Just look at him, all bundled up cozy and warm and dry in his little bubble of innocence and love, safe and protected from the miserable outside world, and yet curious about what lies beyond at the same time, poking at the raindrops…
Me: *critically examines own fingernails* Why won’t my nails grow faster? Also me, an hour later: *balances precariously on the edge of toddler’s cot, ignoring the uncomfortable edge of the bed rail under my backside and the drool around the flashlight in my mouth, leans in further, trying to crane neck at a 90 degree angle…
Today’s parenting lesson: it’s harder to cut a three year old’s hair than a two year old’s hair. Example A above – I didn’t choose to do this while sitting cross-legged on the floor of the kitchen with the kid in my lap, fully dressed, because in thought it would be comfortable. Let’s just chalk…
When you need to discuss dinner options without getting your toddler over-excited about something you might not wish to promise: “What did you give him for dinner yesterday?” “Uh…. digits of piscine creatures.” “Riiiiiiigh. Well, today he’s getting a circular cut of dough with shredded dairy and porcine bits.” “Ok. Oh! There are also strips…
The Feathered Rose 