are these all yours?

I get asked this occasionally. Mostly when we're in a crowded waiting room or I am hauling them through the grocery store in a single cart. Like you know when small, confined spaces make things appear larger and more numerous and overwhelming than they really are. But let's be honest, sometimes I look at these guys and can't believe they belong to me. It's not always in a fond, doting way either. A lot of times it's more of an "oh, snap, I've gotta take these monkeys home with me" kind of feeling.






One day B told me he thought we had too many kids in our family. I asked him who he thought we should get rid of, and interestingly, he couldn't decide between L or M. Decisions, decisions...

So M is sort of notorious for rummaging through strangers' bags for treats and other dulces. Like you know that old adage "never take candy from a stranger?" She'd be snatched in a second. She reminds me of that movie about Helen Keller where she goes around eating off other people's plates and her parents didn't do anything about her primitive, uncivilized habits (M is Helen Keller and I'm the wayward parent here in case... you know).

On this particular day, there was another mom at the park across the playground. I watched as M casually made her way over and took a peek in that mother's bag. I jumped up as M reached her arm in, but I didn't need to intervene. Not really, because that mother turned around, reached over and swatted M's arm away. She had it all under control. Best parenting moment of my life and I didn't have to do anything. M skulked back to me with her pouty face and I grinned like the devil. Natural consequences are a beast, little M.

(Lest you think I lead a heartless existence, applauding my children's failures, I did give her a piece of gum as consolation.)