I’m teaching 20 students a week in my home now, and my kids have noticed.
For her Inclusion Week poster, Flufferella completed the “I am good at” sentence stem with “keeping my brothers occupied, and keeping myself occupied, and being happy.” I’m glad she is happy (and she is), but zoiks.
Then this morning when I gave my Salty “a carry” down the stairs to breakfast, I kissed his cheek and told him, “I’m going to take such good care of you today!” And he replied, “Are you going to be like a babysitter?”
“What do babysitters do?” I asked. “They sing songs.” Are you kidding me, child? I sing to you all the time. All. The. Time.
Don’t worry, I have a plan. I’m going to hire crummy babysitters so I can look better by comparison.
Latest addition to my ongoing exhibit of children sleeping. This is an un-staged photo of some kind of sleeping hand-hold with a thoughtful finger-on-chin and maybe a temple massage. Or maybe Peppers is saying, “Braaaaains!” How are any of them sleeping through this?