Dear Caden,
"No Caden, please stop pulling that down! Let's play with this instead"
"No Caden, don't touch that! Here, you can touch this."
"Caden, please stop! Why don't we come over here and play with this instead"
All my efforts to distract you from all the glittery things appears to be failing. If it is shiny, it is calling your name.
Suddenly you walk up to me, point your finger at my face and in a gravely, robotic voice you look me dead center in the eye saying those dreaded words, "Exterminate! Exterminate!"
You are such a cute little Dalek. Just remember, I know the Doctor.
Love,
Mommy
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Give Thanks
Dear Caden,
The dust has settled. The Presidential turkeys, Popcorn and Caramel, have been pardoned. Homes are strewn with empty plates covered with crumbs. Half eaten pies and casseroles line up on the counters. The men are in a semi coma state watching the football games, groaning with full bellies and yelling at the referee. The women are chatting amongst themselves as they begin to clean up, shooing away the children as they come in to sneak one more sweet treat. The house is filled with laughter, sometimes tears, as stories are swapped, remembering those that were here last year that have gone ahead to receive their Heavenly reward. The warmth of the fire crackling in the corner leaves sweaters and jackets laying on the floor. The kids run around chasing each other, their laughter echoing off the walls. Yes, friends and family. There is so much to be thankful for.
The dust has settled. Some that were scheduled for execution miraculously just received pardoned. Homes are strewn with empty plates, covered in dust from lack of use. Half eaten rolls, meats and dried out casseroles dug from the dumpsters lay on the counter. Men stand hyper vigilant, groaning with fear and yelling at those that are outside set to attack their homes. Women huddle amongst themselves, holding their children close for safety. Others hold their children, praying and wishing they had food to fill their empty bellies, sweets are things of fantasies. The houses are filled silence, fear and tears. Plans of how to outwit the fighting outside, to survive to the next day are swapped. Others say their thanks for the meager amounts of food they have on their table, trying to be thankful for what they have now, suppressing the uncertainty of where their next meal will come from. The mothers and fathers of these families allow their children the first pass at the food, possibly not getting any for themselves, so that their little ones will not go hungry. They remember those that have gone ahead to receive their Heavenly reward, many way too soon before their time due to hunger, unnecessary violence and war. The coldness of these houses have many shivering, longing for appropriate sweaters and jackets. The children run around warming up, some are able to laugh because their parents have shielded them from the harshness of the reality they are facing. Others are too sick and too hungry, their cries echoing off the walls. Yes, friends and family. With so very little, they are so thankful for what they have.
For FOOD, in a world where many walk in hunger. . .
For FAITH, in a world where many walk in fear. . .
For FRIENDS, in a world where many walk alone. . .
We give thanks
Love,
Mommy
The dust has settled. The Presidential turkeys, Popcorn and Caramel, have been pardoned. Homes are strewn with empty plates covered with crumbs. Half eaten pies and casseroles line up on the counters. The men are in a semi coma state watching the football games, groaning with full bellies and yelling at the referee. The women are chatting amongst themselves as they begin to clean up, shooing away the children as they come in to sneak one more sweet treat. The house is filled with laughter, sometimes tears, as stories are swapped, remembering those that were here last year that have gone ahead to receive their Heavenly reward. The warmth of the fire crackling in the corner leaves sweaters and jackets laying on the floor. The kids run around chasing each other, their laughter echoing off the walls. Yes, friends and family. There is so much to be thankful for.
The dust has settled. Some that were scheduled for execution miraculously just received pardoned. Homes are strewn with empty plates, covered in dust from lack of use. Half eaten rolls, meats and dried out casseroles dug from the dumpsters lay on the counter. Men stand hyper vigilant, groaning with fear and yelling at those that are outside set to attack their homes. Women huddle amongst themselves, holding their children close for safety. Others hold their children, praying and wishing they had food to fill their empty bellies, sweets are things of fantasies. The houses are filled silence, fear and tears. Plans of how to outwit the fighting outside, to survive to the next day are swapped. Others say their thanks for the meager amounts of food they have on their table, trying to be thankful for what they have now, suppressing the uncertainty of where their next meal will come from. The mothers and fathers of these families allow their children the first pass at the food, possibly not getting any for themselves, so that their little ones will not go hungry. They remember those that have gone ahead to receive their Heavenly reward, many way too soon before their time due to hunger, unnecessary violence and war. The coldness of these houses have many shivering, longing for appropriate sweaters and jackets. The children run around warming up, some are able to laugh because their parents have shielded them from the harshness of the reality they are facing. Others are too sick and too hungry, their cries echoing off the walls. Yes, friends and family. With so very little, they are so thankful for what they have.
For FOOD, in a world where many walk in hunger. . .
For FAITH, in a world where many walk in fear. . .
For FRIENDS, in a world where many walk alone. . .
We give thanks
Love,
Mommy
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Three
Dear Caden,
They call it the "Terrible Two's" and they say it will test your patience as a parent. I must politely disagree. There are no nifty sayings for the "Three's" and I think it is in part because parents who are lucky enough to survive this age group with children have become so shocked as to what just happened to them that they promptly try to erase any memory of it. "Tumultuous", "Terrifying" or how about "Traumatizing". . . perhaps those are good words to describe the Three's. It must get better, the human race depends on it, otherwise families wouldn't have more than one child. Even with all the craziness that ensues, it all disappears the moment that you wrap your arms around me or with the whispers and giggles of, "Noooo I love YOOOUUU more!" right before bedtime. Forget the toys strewn across the floor, the chocolate and snot smeared walls, the Michelangelo-esq crayon drawing on my prized piece of furniture. Your face squished up against mine as you hug me till I holler, ahhh yes, the "Terrific" Three's.
Love,
Mommy
They call it the "Terrible Two's" and they say it will test your patience as a parent. I must politely disagree. There are no nifty sayings for the "Three's" and I think it is in part because parents who are lucky enough to survive this age group with children have become so shocked as to what just happened to them that they promptly try to erase any memory of it. "Tumultuous", "Terrifying" or how about "Traumatizing". . . perhaps those are good words to describe the Three's. It must get better, the human race depends on it, otherwise families wouldn't have more than one child. Even with all the craziness that ensues, it all disappears the moment that you wrap your arms around me or with the whispers and giggles of, "Noooo I love YOOOUUU more!" right before bedtime. Forget the toys strewn across the floor, the chocolate and snot smeared walls, the Michelangelo-esq crayon drawing on my prized piece of furniture. Your face squished up against mine as you hug me till I holler, ahhh yes, the "Terrific" Three's.
Love,
Mommy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)