Friday, September 26, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
The Love of Impermanent Things
Every single person who sees Max says he's so cute and friendly and happy. And he is. The youngest child helps soothe all the loss that I feel over the impermanence of childhood. Oliver and Wesley no longer have fat cheeks, fine blonde hair, bodies that fit on my lap horizontally, or speech perfectly poised between baby babble and real words. But just as Oliver and Wesley move through a stage of development, Max moves into it. I love how he allows our family to enjoy, for just one more moment, all that we can never really hold on to.
It's dear enough to make anyone wish they had three kids within a 22-month span, eh?
It's dear enough to make anyone wish they had three kids within a 22-month span, eh?
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
This morning's indescribably bad trip to the library ended with me stuffing all three miserable boys (all crying, one also kicking) into the van. An elderly man who had witnessed our walk of shame from the children's room to the parking lot pulled up next to me and said, "Looks like you've got a revolution on your hands."
He might be right. Perhaps the underage underclass of the Paris household is staging an armed revolution (weapons of choice being bats, sippy cups, and hot wheels). The current administration continues to be unwilling to consider the revolutionaries' demands, but days like today -- when the co-presidents' resolve wavers -- represent hope for the captives.
If they knew how to write, this is what I think they'd present to us:
We, the children of the Paris household, demand our freedom. Specifically,
1. To eat cake, animal crackers and ice cream with each meal. Or as each meal.
2. To neither wear diapers nor use the potty.
3. To have all-hours access to the sandbox.
4. To torment each other without consequence.
5. To all wear the only pair of shoes with a firetruck on them at the same time.
6. To receive limitless comfort, first aid, and household support related to the consequences of our chosen lifestyle without punishments or suggestions for change.
What do we want? Liberty! When do we want it? Now (or immediately upon waking from our naps)!
He might be right. Perhaps the underage underclass of the Paris household is staging an armed revolution (weapons of choice being bats, sippy cups, and hot wheels). The current administration continues to be unwilling to consider the revolutionaries' demands, but days like today -- when the co-presidents' resolve wavers -- represent hope for the captives.
If they knew how to write, this is what I think they'd present to us:
We, the children of the Paris household, demand our freedom. Specifically,
1. To eat cake, animal crackers and ice cream with each meal. Or as each meal.
2. To neither wear diapers nor use the potty.
3. To have all-hours access to the sandbox.
4. To torment each other without consequence.
5. To all wear the only pair of shoes with a firetruck on them at the same time.
6. To receive limitless comfort, first aid, and household support related to the consequences of our chosen lifestyle without punishments or suggestions for change.
What do we want? Liberty! When do we want it? Now (or immediately upon waking from our naps)!
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
How many things can go wrong in a day?
1. Oliver throws up in his bed at 2 am.
2. Oliver throws up in our bed.
3. A second one in our bed.
4. A third one in our bed.
5. A fourth one in his bed.
6. I'm awake from 2-5:30 am, have to teach the next day.
7. Before I leave for work, Max throws up on me, himself, and the chair.
8. One of my toenail cuticles becomes inflamed, infected, swollen, crazy painful.
9. The furnace breaks.
10. Max throws up in his crib during afternoon nap.
11. Oliver throws up in his bed during nap.
12. Wesley stands in the kitchen, diarrhea plopping out of his diaper onto the floor.
13. Oliver gets stung by a wasp and is hysterical for two hours.
Thirteen. Thirteen things can go wrong in a day.
2. Oliver throws up in our bed.
3. A second one in our bed.
4. A third one in our bed.
5. A fourth one in his bed.
6. I'm awake from 2-5:30 am, have to teach the next day.
7. Before I leave for work, Max throws up on me, himself, and the chair.
8. One of my toenail cuticles becomes inflamed, infected, swollen, crazy painful.
9. The furnace breaks.
10. Max throws up in his crib during afternoon nap.
11. Oliver throws up in his bed during nap.
12. Wesley stands in the kitchen, diarrhea plopping out of his diaper onto the floor.
13. Oliver gets stung by a wasp and is hysterical for two hours.
Thirteen. Thirteen things can go wrong in a day.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
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