Sometime later today, Robbie is going to ask “How was your day?” And here is what I’ll want to say.
Asher sneezed repeatedly with a mouthful of eggs at breakfast.
I found the baby quietly playing with a poop pellet she found. She was batting it around on the floor. How did this happen? I DON’T KNOW.
The only part of the play kitchen set that the boys want to play with is the fake knives.
I went to Spin class only because I wanted a break. Yes, that’s right. I looked forward to 60 minutes of physical torture in a dark room.
Maverick continues to refer to “Ninjas” as “Aninjas.” He says “We’re pretending to be aninjas,” or, “I want to watch Teenage Mutant Aninja Turtles.” I don’t correct him. Just like I don’t correct him when he asks me if I’m wearing a “booby cast.” I guess he means a bra. Is this a problem? I really don’t know. I also don’t make him read or write, it’s been a full month since Kindergarten graduation and I haven’t made him think once. I just let him run maniacally around and mispronounce the name of ladies undergarments. I think it builds character.
But what will I actually say when he asks me? I’ll say, “It was fine, how was yours?” I will not ask him if he thinks something is wrong with our children, or me. I will not ask if I’m a lazy mother. I don’t really want to know the answer to those questions, and if we have all made it to the end of the day in once piece … then it was a good day.