Sanity is ...
... not trying to create a post while the two youngest are semi-arguing. (Full disclosure: a few minutes later here, past both of their bed times, they're quiet. I'm of the mind that if it ain't broke, don't fix it.)
My third kid, previously known as 3 (I can't be sure, but I'm not willing to look it up, because life is too short) and now known as Malarkey, is too much like me. At least in some ways. I don't feel right unless I'm doing something creative; Malarkey, who started crying as soon as I woke him up this morning because it was 8 a.m., whereas I usually wake him up at 7:30 because ... long story, but circumstances allowed longer sleep today. Why was he crying? Because he wouldn't have enough time. (The bus comes at 9.) Time for what? Time for "everything."
Poor little guy, little hummingbird.
I am SO visiting with my homeopath friend on Wednesday.
Anyway -- so he informed me that he wanted to make a bear, and I said sure, fine. On Saturday, his old Waldorf school (he's now a public school kid because, you know, freelance writer + public school teacher + 4 kids DOES NOT = private school tuition) had its wonderful annual May Faire, with May pole dancing and flower wreaths and drumming circle and old friends and extraordinary food (damn old hippies and vegetarians and foodies, oh my), where he bought, with his own money, a sewn felt mole. He wants to make a bear like the mole. So I went online looking for patterns -- found myriad teddy bear patterns (don't you want to knit one, honey?), but he said, "no, I want ... nevermind." I asked him to tell me what he wanted to say, and he drew a pic that looked remarkably like his mole. So I basically traced his mole and extrapolated the rest, found some brown felt, got him sewing it with purple embroidery thread, because that's what we have ... and a little while ago he went to bed with a mostly sewn bear, and he's miraculously healed.
Don't you know, I should have been saying good night to my boys while I was writing this post. I'm going to go kiss sleeping babies now. (Babies ... my second child is 5'8". Oy.)
My third kid, previously known as 3 (I can't be sure, but I'm not willing to look it up, because life is too short) and now known as Malarkey, is too much like me. At least in some ways. I don't feel right unless I'm doing something creative; Malarkey, who started crying as soon as I woke him up this morning because it was 8 a.m., whereas I usually wake him up at 7:30 because ... long story, but circumstances allowed longer sleep today. Why was he crying? Because he wouldn't have enough time. (The bus comes at 9.) Time for what? Time for "everything."
Poor little guy, little hummingbird.
I am SO visiting with my homeopath friend on Wednesday.
Anyway -- so he informed me that he wanted to make a bear, and I said sure, fine. On Saturday, his old Waldorf school (he's now a public school kid because, you know, freelance writer + public school teacher + 4 kids DOES NOT = private school tuition) had its wonderful annual May Faire, with May pole dancing and flower wreaths and drumming circle and old friends and extraordinary food (damn old hippies and vegetarians and foodies, oh my), where he bought, with his own money, a sewn felt mole. He wants to make a bear like the mole. So I went online looking for patterns -- found myriad teddy bear patterns (don't you want to knit one, honey?), but he said, "no, I want ... nevermind." I asked him to tell me what he wanted to say, and he drew a pic that looked remarkably like his mole. So I basically traced his mole and extrapolated the rest, found some brown felt, got him sewing it with purple embroidery thread, because that's what we have ... and a little while ago he went to bed with a mostly sewn bear, and he's miraculously healed.
Don't you know, I should have been saying good night to my boys while I was writing this post. I'm going to go kiss sleeping babies now. (Babies ... my second child is 5'8". Oy.)
posted by Tina at 8:07 PM
1 Comments:
What a great story, you're the best mom -- getting Mr. Malarky to make his little bear. How great is that? My kids thought that May Faire was magic, just simple, beautiful magic. And it was ...
So what was the object that is now lost in the domicile?
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