It was a week filled with naughty, but a couple really nice moments showed up along the way too. ‘Tis the season…
Lesson #1: There’s nothing like a holiday party for a start-up company to remind you that you (and your butt) aren’t 20 anymore. (As if cleaning out my purse for the big night out wasn’t a crazy red flag to begin with.)
Lesson #2: If Pink continues with the tone she uses now to “talk” to us in her teenage years, we’re in big trouble. She’s already filled with more angst than a Lilith Fair concert.
Lesson #3: My latest concept for mom fashion is sure to be a hit: shirts/dresses with orange, yellow and purple streaks and polka dots. Or at the very least, a celebrity endorsed perfume that smells like squash/sweet potato/pear/prune. (Hey, Amy, have you considered a Mommy Moxie? The baby version is a lifesaver these days!)
Lesson #4: I still haven’t solved the question of how to sneak in a shower with a tender baby and a not-so-tender brother around. I thought having Little join me—while far from ideal—might make it a possibility. But about 30 seconds after we got in, he let out a huge sigh and said, “Aren’t you getting out yet? I need some alone time.”
Lesson #5: No doubt Pink is going to grow up to be a close talker or claustrophobic. (See first part of Lesson #4 for clarification.)
Lesson #6: It’s bad enough when your clothes are too snug or itchy, but it’s really upsetting when your pants hurt your feelings. Little still won’t speak to his jeans.
Lesson #7: When you’re three, all you have to do is add “pants” to the end if a word to come up with an awesome insult.
Lesson #8: Don’t lose hope. That Halloween shirt Little refused to wear throughout October wasn’t wasted after all. He’s rocking those festive skateboarding skeletons just in time for Christmas.
Lesson #9: Be careful what you ask for. Big, in all his kindergartener glory, has been running around the house singing, “All I want for Christmaaasssss…is poo!” And I’m thinking that might be what Santa brings him.
Lesson #10: While running through the house screaming and reading Sports Illustrated aren’t really my things, my boys are so lucky to have found kindred spirits in their friends. (And those receiving my Christmas cards are lucky they did too…otherwise I might never have finished them.)
Now, off to start my shopping!