We went on a 2 week road trip to Chicago with stops in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana. It was a great time, surprisingly. Everyone LOVED IT. We passed a lot of farms. Every time we saw a horse or cow or sheep or goat, Sarah would sing, “Old McDonald had a farm,” mentioning the appropriate […]
I write this from the Delaware Water Gap welcome center where we are stopping on our road trip. Because the kids have been so well behaved, we bought them goodies from the vending machine. Sarah chose peanut M&Ms. David chose Lay’s potato chips. I asked David when he approached me why he got potato chips
Sarah just found a bag that David made me for Mother’s Day at school with his picture embedded on the side. She points to him and says, “I love David, he’s so great!” I laugh and say “Sarah, you’re amazing.” To which she chuckles and replies, “Thank you” and runs off.
So while it sounds like things are hunky dory, in reality we are still sad. Three days ago, my just-turned-3-year-old Sarah told me something very moving, which shows the impact of what happened on the children. She acknowledged that our former “family member” helped build her toy trike, but said “but I won’t say her name, because
David got a Nintendo DS. He is playing Super Mario 2 on it and often gives me the game to play when he is frustrated. But I get a lot more frustrated than he does. So David reminded me what’s most important, by saying: “It doesn’t matter about winning. It doesn’t matter about losing. It
(Stefani, this story is for you.) Time to share a story that makes my blood boil and cry all the same. When my second child was born (we have three now), we hired a nanny. Loved her. She was great. The kids took a huge liking to her. She was, in blanket terms, “the wife”