Being the mother of a five year-old boy is a mixed bag, for sure. Mostly fun, sometimes gross, and always interesting, here's a quick overview of my experience.
Sweaty but sweet hugs after a fun afternoon outside.
Pockets and socks full of hay in the laundry.
Just sat in pee because the boy forgot to put the seat up.
Watching him spin until he falls over, giddy with laughter.
Being asked questions like, "Did the dinosaurs go extinct from falling into a pile of giant poop?"
Screams from the basement make me wonder, "Is he delighted or hurt?"
Introspective, thoughtful questions from my boy at bedtime, followed by farts and subsequent fits of laughter.
Running after an errant son through a large home improvement store, heart pounding, dragging the younger child by the hand while shouting, "We have to catch your brother!"
Being greeted at the end of the preschool day by a hug that almost knocks me over, and the words, "I missed you, Mama! I found a slug on the playground and it's in my pocket!"
Sweaty but sweet hugs after a fun afternoon outside.
Pockets and socks full of hay in the laundry.
Just sat in pee because the boy forgot to put the seat up.
Watching him spin until he falls over, giddy with laughter.
Being asked questions like, "Did the dinosaurs go extinct from falling into a pile of giant poop?"
Screams from the basement make me wonder, "Is he delighted or hurt?"
Introspective, thoughtful questions from my boy at bedtime, followed by farts and subsequent fits of laughter.
Running after an errant son through a large home improvement store, heart pounding, dragging the younger child by the hand while shouting, "We have to catch your brother!"
Being greeted at the end of the preschool day by a hug that almost knocks me over, and the words, "I missed you, Mama! I found a slug on the playground and it's in my pocket!"
