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Category Archives: three years old

On second thought, cohabitating with a foghorn might be more peaceful.

When I was pregnant, I talked to the then-still-unnamed Aura constantly. I had already been working from home for a few years, and was therefore not unfamiliar with the notion of chatting with things that could not talk back. Yukking it up with a fetus, stalwartly silent as she might have been, was infinitely more…

Detangling spray is this century’s snake oil. Feel free to quote me on that.

I have blindingly clear memories of being seven years old. I know it was 15 20 25 years ago GOD WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME I’M OLD but it matters not: You experience pain of the magnitude I experienced and you remember. Scraped knees paled in comparison. The time I got my five-year-old…

I'll totally regret admitting this in the morning.

I freely acknowledge that I am not a vision of marital bliss by the time Adam arrives home most nights. He’ll walk in the door, announcing his exhaustion, and I’ll stare at him with something bordering on wrath. Carrot peels from dinner prep stuck to my face, driveway chalk crusted under my nails, a laundry…

I won't even mention what was written on the slide.

As summer sets in, Aura and I are enjoying a rather fancy-free season. Freed from the September–June preschool, etc. schedule, we’ve been sort of meandering, hitting a beach here, an amusement park there, an ice-cream shop or twenty over there. Since it is widely known that I’m allergic to overscheduling (seriously, there are hives involved;…

This is why I shall never chortle at Apple. Or Moon Unit, for that matter.

Thanks to several readers for suggesting this topic. Much better than writing about mulch. I think. ————————————————————————————— “HAHAHAHA,” I cackled. “A girl! Now THAT’S a good one!” Because, honestly, back in 2006, the only way I was having a girl was if the boy I KNEW I was having spontaneously switched genders before being born….

I'd like to thank the Academy. Of Bad Parenting.

In retrospect, I really should have known better. Aura has inherited a great many things from her father, including a love of coffee-flavored foodstuffs and an inclination to snicker at me when I am at my most threatening. She also shares his tendency to become completely and utterly submerged in the lyrics of a song. New songs, songs that especially strike their fancy,…

I'm going to need a really strong padlock.

When my mom moved in with us after breaking her hip last month, I worried about how Aura would adjust. She was used to being the center of my attention most days, minus preschool hours and Daddy time. Would she resent the time I spent helping my mother? Would she start to act out? Renege on using…

Hell in a Handbasket, or Why English Majors Always Get Institutionalized First

I was walking Aura into preschool (or as I prefer to think of it, Two-and-a-Half Hours of Heaven) the other morning when the director popped out of her office to say hello to the children entering the building.  “Good morning, Evan!” she called. “How are you?”  Evan said he was good.  “Good morning, Madison!” she said next….

Huh. Apparently rampant consumerism is NOT hereditary.

A short while ago, Aura and I were having lunch at McDonald’s, enjoying the view from our usual table overlooking the drive-thru. We prefer this table because it allows us to take bets on which drivers will shove french fries in their mouths by the time they pass us. This is a satisfyingly self-righteous game I…

See? I am TELLING you something.

Yesterday morning, as Aura and I were rushing to and fro, trying to get her body to preschool on time, we were having one of our typical day-planning conversations. She asked something like, “After you pick me up from school, can we go to the playground?” “Yes, yes. Sure,” I replied and propelled her towards her…