originally posted in why parenting is easier than you think
Is it in the people you meet, the restaurants you dine, the parks you visit, the streets you drive, the paths you take that become your own?
Today is my last day in San Antonio.
This evening my babies & I will hop on a plane & leave this place.*
We have been here for 2 1/2 years.
In that time I have grown my brood from four to five.
I’ve become a military wife & have had my induction into the military life.
I have made dear friends & kindred spirits who have shown me that people are kind & good. And though our departure from San Antonio won’t be anything like our previous farewell, our friends & memories are none the less keen.
I gave up home school, then embraced it again (if only for a brief period, I...
I’ve talked about this, I know. It’s nothing new. And it’s nothing unique.
If you have three children, “you have your hands full.”
If you have two children who are not separated by half a decade, your hands are full.
If you have four children, you obviously don’t know what causes pregnancy.
(You can stop having kids now, I’ve solved the mystery. Enjoy sex too much? Never fear, evidently the solution is to buy a television.)
I’ve said this before too, most of the time these comments don’t bother me. In fact it’s sort of become a game. I reward myself with treats for every silly comment or question I get.
“Are they all yours?”
“All except the brunettes.”
“Do you know what causes that?”
“Are you having more?”
“Thanks for reminding me, I’m late to meet...
Only a few more weeks until we leave Texas for good & head west for a few months before we venture overseas.
We don’t have our official orders yet (if you’re in the military, you know you can’t do *anything* without these), which means we don’t have our movers scheduled yet. (And we’re supposed to be moving in a little over two weeks!)
We have been prepping Salem for our move from Texas to Washington & then Japan by talking about it every day. A few days ago, Joseph spent a few minutes explaining that we had only three more weeks until we move. I came downstairs right after this particular conversation. Salem was jumping on our couch as she blurted out, with all the excitement only a four year old can have–“Mom, in three weeks !!!”
These days, my house often...