“Gandma, we moobin,” announced Connor to my Mom at dinner tonight. “You are?” chuckled Grandma. “Wes, to a house wib a parm!” (Translation: to a house with a farm). We have often joked that we are raising two little farm boys in a town home in Northern Virginia, but plans to move to a farm…
I spent the day pulling up sub-flooring in a New Orleans shot-gun house flooded in Hurricane Katrina. It was a long day. As I’m cleaning up for dinner, my cell phone rings. It’s Ryan. Patrick and the boys are at a conference in Baltimore. “Mommy,” he says. “Yes, Ryan?” “I have a new favorite restaurant.”…
After my little exchange with Connor this morning, he fell back to sleep for two hours. When he finally awoke, we ate breakfast, and then headed downstairs to start our schoolwork. Connor whined, complained, and cried his way through math, usually a favorite subject. “Are you feeling alright?,” I asked with concern. “No,” he…
We woke this morning to a light dusting of snow on the ground and rain pattering on the roof. The radio reported a mixture of snow, ice, and rain for the remainder of the day and a host of school closings. Upon hearing this, Connor, our 7-year-old, looks at me and sleepily asks, “Are you…
This year, Connor asked Santa to bring 200 Webkinz, please! Santa told Connor he’d have to see if he could find a big enough box. Ryan requested Legos, cars, and Webkinz – he said he’d let Santa decide how many. And now two very wound-up, excited little boys are tucked in their beds, visions of…
Last year for Christmas, the boys received a singing, dancing Irish Santa. They loved it at once, but Patrick and I were unsure about the beer in Santa’s hand. Did an imbibing Santa send an inappropriate message to the boys? For a year we worried and discussed… should Santa find a new home? Could I…