Month: October 2012

Working on Independence

Scene: Owen is sitting on the leather chair in the living room. His milk is in a cup (with a lid) on the floor, 6 feet away from him.

Owen: “Where’s my milk? Where’s my milk? WHERE’S MY MILK!”

Me: “It’s right there, Owen. You can get it.”

Owen: “No. I can’t, Mommy. You get it.”

Me: “No. You can get it.”

Owen: “Get it! Get it! Get it, Mommy! Get it!”

Me: “Owen, you’re a big boy. Get off the chair and go get your milk.”

Owen: “But you’re the biggest.”

“Pretty much all the honest truth-telling there is in the world is done by children.” —Oliver Wendell Holmes

epilogue: James, tired of the whole thing, got up and gave Owen his milk. Owen threw it at his head. And with that, I put his milk away.

Painting In Our PJs In the Morning

Sophie woke up wanting to “teach the boys how to paint.” She’s not the most patient of teachers. She also dislikes mixing colors. Although the pictures depict a rather lovely experience (and for awhile, it was), it did not end well. I suppose, for a more truthful depiction, I should take pictures across the spectrum. Too often, though, I’m solving and resolving at the one of the spectrum, leaving little time for picture-taking—whereas the other end of the spectrum is the stuff you dream motherhood is going to be, with plenty of time for dreamy documenting.

“A child’s attitude toward everything is an artist’s attitude.” —Willa Cather