Days of Glory
It's been a while, blogfriends. Not that I forgot about you, no sirree. I've just been, uh, busy. Yeah. Busy. Running stupid errands like a fool and didn't you know, Amazon Prime has the entirety of The West Wing available for your viewing delight.
But there it is.
Claire still loves kindergarten, and appears to be doing well. Although she tends toward frustration when she doesn't get something at first. But her favorite class is science and she's made friends with two kids.
Ben turned three and remains as stubborn as a rock. A very cute rock, with blond curls and murky green eyes, but a rock never the less. He's decided, for the most part, that school is OK after all. But has to be reminded about it every day. And he remains an unrepentant schnook about sleeping. I could write a book on the subject of Ben and sleep.
He's still waking up screaming in the middle of the night - whether too hot or cold or having a nightmare, he seems incapable of sorting himself out at 2 am. And, God forbid it that the wrong parent turn up at his bedside to help him in the small hours. Yes, I know eventually it will pass, but as I'm sitting here in my living room, listening to him cry himself to sleep, I'd rather this stage of parenting be long, long behind us.
Yet, the mornings are cool, the days are sunny and warm, and the nights, sometimes, the nights are peaceful.
There are words in me yet. It's October, and I will write them down.
But there it is.
Claire still loves kindergarten, and appears to be doing well. Although she tends toward frustration when she doesn't get something at first. But her favorite class is science and she's made friends with two kids.
Ben turned three and remains as stubborn as a rock. A very cute rock, with blond curls and murky green eyes, but a rock never the less. He's decided, for the most part, that school is OK after all. But has to be reminded about it every day. And he remains an unrepentant schnook about sleeping. I could write a book on the subject of Ben and sleep.
He's still waking up screaming in the middle of the night - whether too hot or cold or having a nightmare, he seems incapable of sorting himself out at 2 am. And, God forbid it that the wrong parent turn up at his bedside to help him in the small hours. Yes, I know eventually it will pass, but as I'm sitting here in my living room, listening to him cry himself to sleep, I'd rather this stage of parenting be long, long behind us.
Yet, the mornings are cool, the days are sunny and warm, and the nights, sometimes, the nights are peaceful.
There are words in me yet. It's October, and I will write them down.
Comments
It is good that he likes school now. That has to be a great change.