We threw a party involving both Marlo AND a piñata and somehow no one got hurt.
With help from the village of mothers around her, the sparkle has returned to my baby girl’s eyes.
When there is money involved my firstborn asks, “How high would you like me to jump?”
Really? Does she really have to do this? Letters and numbers are so overrated.
A bittersweet milestone, one that is tearing me up as much as it is confusing for her.
There’s a way to start off a school year, and then there is the Heather B. Armstrong way.
She wasn’t so sure about this milestone today, and the glasses kind of hit that message home.
The grind begins again. Where in the hell did the summer go? And when did my baby get so big?
Yesterday she asked me if fifth grade is going to be harder than fourth grade and I pretended to black out so that I could change the subject.
I may sometimes frighten her friends, but something tells me I can remedy that.