Skip to main content

Humble Pie



 When you start feeling good about yourself, and your parenting skills, go out in public with your toddlers.  And stay there past their bedtime.  It is a deeply humbling experience.  It is also an excellent way to shed some Calories.  

We went to a Lady Caveman volleyball game tonight.  Apparently the girls were disappointed that they didn't get to be cavemen, we must have had a little communication gap, so they did their best barbaric display all evening.  Sorry to the people sitting behind us.  And below us.  And beside us.   

Before the game, we knew things were going to go poorly when Carter started eating her pizza with her face.  I mean, she set it on the bench and went at it with no hands - face in the pizza.  We stopped her, but she continued to eat toppings down until she had a hole eaten clean through the middle of the slice.  We did not teach her that.  

Once we made it into the gym, it was well past their bedtime.  I hoped letting them run a little before hand had given them a chance to calm down.  It seemed to only amp up their crazy.  They cleaned the bleachers, did laps around their brothers, tried to ride me piggy back style while I was sitting down, greeted all the fans, lost their boots, and had to be hogtied.  

Also, one child, who will remain nameless, had wicked gas about every thirty-five seconds.  I'm not sure we will be invited back.  I think they may have taken down our names at the door.  Needless to say, nobody was sad to see us exit the building after the second match.  We know how to have a good time!

Go Lady Cavemen!  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sheltering in Place

In the past three months Corona Virus has more or less turned the world on its head.  I feel almost guilty for not being more stressed or put out by the whole thing.  We have been extremely fortunate. What we thought was a most impractical move on our part, wound up being a huge blessing.  With our two boys and our two newborns, we moved out of our house with no yard in the city limits and into my parents' house in the country while waiting for our new house to be completed.  The weekend we moved "quarantine," "social distancing," and "shelter in place" became the new mantra of our state.   Moving in with my parents meant ten plus acres of play space and two extra able bodied adults to help even out the score with the four kids.  Win for the St. Clair's!  Unfortunately, my parents are beginning to realize they may have made an error in judgement.   Yesterday, Sawyer gave their cat swimming lessons.   Last week th...

For the Love of Kids

I love the contrasting sides of our children.  It's one of my favorite things that I didn't know I was going to love.  I think it's fair to say that when we have kids, we all know we will love the squishy babies, hearing kids laugh, seeing holidays through their eyes, and dressing them in the cute little outfits (I'm told boys don't wear outfits , but it's my blog). I didn't know how much I'd love seeing my loud, dirt loving, gun fanatic, wrestling maniac five-year-old turn into the sweetest and most gentle big brother while holding his baby sister.  He sits and quietly tells her stories about his fishing and hunting conquests unaware of anyone else in the room, and my heart absolutely melts. Then we have my slightly crusty, flannel loving, mismatching three-year-old that will choose a princess dress from the costume closet because although he likes sand and rocks and sticks and filth, he also likes and appreciates things that are beautiful. I lov...

Advanced Placement

 Not to brag or anything, but I think we are raising some very advanced children.  At two-years-of-age, our girls have already worked out the art of manipulation and deflection.  It's the antithesis of endearing.   They went missing the other day - the girls did.  That's never a good situation.  They were in the house, and I knew they were in the house, but I couldn't see or hear them.  Silence is the loudest alarm system.  Fischer took action and found them both in my bathroom.   "MOM!" I met them in the hall.  Carter was covered in clumps and blobs of hand cream. "Emi did it," was her unsolicited response.   "No," I told her.  "I think you  did it." That night I got ready for bed and pulled out my one "self-care" splurge - my face cream .  It was in my drawer where I always keep it.  The lid was screwed on.  And it was empty, wiped clean.  "EmmmeerrrrrSON!" Guilty.  They were both ...