Category: Moments in time

“Here you go, mama” said Molly as she gave me three little rocks. “Hold on tight! It’s a really happy birthday.”

Each day Molly’s getting better and better at talking and explaining what she wants.

Today, for example, she walked into our bedroom while I was playing with Benny and she managed to communicate a very specific request to me: She wanted me to put Benny in his chair and take him into the bathroom so he can sit there while she pees.

It was such an absurd and peculiar wish that I did it right away, no questions asked. I don’t think either of them particularly enjoyed that experience (it was a bit boring so slightly disappointing), but I’m excited to see which idea she’s going to come up with next.

-Molly, we don’t play with our food!
-But Pooh Bear swimming in honey!
(from: “You thought you can’t go wrong with Winnie the Pooh”)

A random thing to hear your child shout from the bathtub: “Mama, more soap for my friends!”

The best part of my morning so far was when Benny was crying so loudly that I couldn’t hear Molly’s hysterical screaming.

Everyone has a ritual that helps them fall asleep, even if they’re not aware of it. I, for example, always lie on my side, put my hand under the pillow and think of nice things that happened that day. Molly likes to have one dummy in her mouth and one in her hand and then change them around.
Benny, on the other hand, shrieks like a wounded bird, pulls his dummy out of his mouth unintentionally at least seven times then cries because he can’t get it back in, flails his arms around, attempts to scratch his eyes out, turns his head left and right, bangs his legs against the mattress, all the while fighting me while I try to hold his hands down so that he doesn’t hurt himself. Whatever works, I guess.

Two new rules were set today:
1. Molly’s not allowed to lick the train window. Or any window.
2. Mama’s not allowed to tell Molly that she’s not a monster.

My day started perfectly with a neighbour driving Molly to the daycare and Jay, Benny and me having a lovely breakfast outside. I planned to spend the rest of the day walking around the centre, reading and having coffee in the sun.
Unfortunately, around 10:30 I got a call from Molly’s daycare to pick her up because she’s been sick. Just at the thought of that, as a very empathic mother, I started feeling queasy myself. Jay picked Molly up and I rushed home where my empathy reached the highest peak when I started throwing up as well (goodbye overly expensive breakfast!).
So we spent the rest of the day so far watching Shrek, puking, eating salty pretzels and sleeping, which is really not an entirely horrible way to spend a birthday, I guess.

One of my kids is dirty because she can’t eat properly, the other one’s dirty because I can’t eat properly.

You’ve reached a new low when your child wakes you up at 23:40 and you think to yourself: “This doesn’t count as a wake up, I shouldn’t have been asleep anyway.”