This morning, as usual, I dragged myself out of a warm bed.
{Lord, thank you for my job. Lets not think I'm ungrateful.}
I go check in on the Boy and discover he is awake.
He opens his bedcovers and slides to the back of his bed.
"Get in, Mommy, get in. Put your feet inside", he invites me.
I cuddle with him and squeeze his little bum.
I pull myself away with the reasoning that I need to shower.
"No mommy, you must sleep." He disagrees.
I cuddle a little more.
This is how I am always late.
I eventually get out and he gets up too and starts rummaging through his toys.
He calls me to come help him retrieve some bits and pieces from underneath the bed.
Getting down on my creaking knees, blowing away a very washable strand of hair and huffing and puffing my delightful morning breath into our delicate atmosphere I manage to drag the 2 desired Smurf figurines out from their hiding place.
"Thanks, Mommy! You're awesome!"
Almost purring with pleasure I dust my face off and beg ask for confirmation.
"Is Mommy awesome?"
Pausing for a second he answers - "Yeth."
So for all you mamas out there going through the motions, feeling less than glamorous and gorgeous and just plain boring - your kids see you in a whole different light.
You. Are. Awesome. Beautiful. A princess.
Please keep that in your mind today.
Just keep on being awesome.
But lets brush our teeth first.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Boy-isms
Our children provide us with a wealth of laughter and amusement. And blog fodder.
I need to write some of these memorable moments down before I forget them (not too difficult when you're Mama G.)
I don't expect everyone to be rolling on the floor with my natural storytelling gift as alot of these gems are the "you had to be there" variety.
Here goes...
*
On our way to bed and ticking off the bedtime routine checks, we brush our teeth and then its time to make a wee.
"I don't want to wee, I don't need a wee, ...see??" He opens his pants and shows me his "empty" boy bits.
Thanks, dear, we can all sleep safe tonight.
*
In the car and on our way to school I commiserate on his sniffy snotty nose and the thick snorting he was doing.
His answer was "I not snotty! I a pig!" accompanied with more snorting and suitably exaggerated piggy noises.
People passing me must have wondered what I was laughing so much about.
*
Tucking the Boy up in bed and handing him his bedtime bottle he notices a fresh new teat on it (yes, I buckled and prolonged the bottle weaning project). He studies it for a second and then explains to me - as if I'm a bit dim - that "I not a baby, ... I Lukey S!"
{To avoid confusion at school all the Lukes in his daycare are addressed with the first letter of their last names. I might need to change his name to Lukey G. And it seems we chose a popular name 3 years ago.}
*
Collecting him from school, Aunty Laura informs me the Boy was beating up on some of his fellowinmates and she had to check him and swatted him on his hand. She then relates how, in a huff, he then cheekily advised her that he wasn't coming to school the next day...!
(so there.)
The Boy has kahunas, even I'm scared of Aunty Laura.
*
Driving along scenic Boyes Drive on our merry way to somewhere, the Boy is looking out the window and in a most jolly expression exclaims "We're all going to die! We're going to die!" The Husband and I exchange mildly perturbed sidelong looks and shrug it off as hopefully misunderstanding our doomsday progeny.
Since then I have come to understand that he considers falling as dying I think. His imagination must have been getting the better of him as we flew along the high mountain pass, pretending we were going to go over the edge, all with a grin and a twinkle in his blue eyes...
*
In benevolent moments I call the Boy my angel or my darling.
And in petulant moments he answers with " I not an angel!" or "I not a darling!"
Yes, I will probably be reminded of that fact in years to come... and maybe even a little sooner.
No doubt there will be more amusing anecdotes (to me anyhow) to follow.
Watch this space.
I need to write some of these memorable moments down before I forget them (not too difficult when you're Mama G.)
I don't expect everyone to be rolling on the floor with my natural storytelling gift as alot of these gems are the "you had to be there" variety.
Here goes...
*
On our way to bed and ticking off the bedtime routine checks, we brush our teeth and then its time to make a wee.
"I don't want to wee, I don't need a wee, ...see??" He opens his pants and shows me his "empty" boy bits.
Thanks, dear, we can all sleep safe tonight.
*
In the car and on our way to school I commiserate on his sniffy snotty nose and the thick snorting he was doing.
His answer was "I not snotty! I a pig!" accompanied with more snorting and suitably exaggerated piggy noises.
People passing me must have wondered what I was laughing so much about.
*
Tucking the Boy up in bed and handing him his bedtime bottle he notices a fresh new teat on it (yes, I buckled and prolonged the bottle weaning project). He studies it for a second and then explains to me - as if I'm a bit dim - that "I not a baby, ... I Lukey S!"
{To avoid confusion at school all the Lukes in his daycare are addressed with the first letter of their last names. I might need to change his name to Lukey G. And it seems we chose a popular name 3 years ago.}
*
Collecting him from school, Aunty Laura informs me the Boy was beating up on some of his fellow
(so there.)
The Boy has kahunas, even I'm scared of Aunty Laura.
*
Driving along scenic Boyes Drive on our merry way to somewhere, the Boy is looking out the window and in a most jolly expression exclaims "We're all going to die! We're going to die!" The Husband and I exchange mildly perturbed sidelong looks and shrug it off as hopefully misunderstanding our doomsday progeny.
Since then I have come to understand that he considers falling as dying I think. His imagination must have been getting the better of him as we flew along the high mountain pass, pretending we were going to go over the edge, all with a grin and a twinkle in his blue eyes...
*
In benevolent moments I call the Boy my angel or my darling.
And in petulant moments he answers with " I not an angel!" or "I not a darling!"
Yes, I will probably be reminded of that fact in years to come... and maybe even a little sooner.
No doubt there will be more amusing anecdotes (to me anyhow) to follow.
Watch this space.
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