You run up and down the stairs a million times a day. I ask you to slow down so that you don’t slip and fall.
“I will, Mom.” he says, while continuing to go at lightening speed.
You get home on Sundays, and you run up to your room, putting your things away and settling in for your time with us.
“What are we going to do today?” She asks the same question…asked? No, let’s be honest, more often than not it’s texted, week after week before she gets home. You’ve always wanted to be in the know, always needing to be up-to-date on the plan, not wanting to be uninformed.
“MAMA!” he squeals every time I walk down the stairs. Although your speech is still developing — new words and phrases emerging every day — you certainly get your point across.Continue reading “Pencil shavings and dried play-dough.”