… on cherubs growning up


The men have to stick together…

I’m not sure what is happening up there.

Maybe you think this is a sweet good-bye, and show of love and support between 3 1/2 kids.


It’s not what I see, as much as what I hear in my brain.

“Stop touching me!”

“MOM! Sam took my game controller and won’t give it back!”

“You always pick his side!”

“Mac has more presents than me!”


“Cut it out!”

“Turn that down!”

“Gabe! Turn off the light!”

“Shut up Schafer!”*


Kid fights.

And the insistence that they will never be friends.




Okay, fine.

What you see up there might be a sweet good-bye and show of love and support.

But who knew that would happen?

When were heading back from Orlando, Sam was flying directly to New Orleans because he has a couple of gigs there before he heads off to his job at a jazz camp in Connecticut in July.

It was sort of sad to separate a little early, and not all fly ‘home’ together.

‘Home’ is beginning to be a bit relative.

I suppose it’s a little bitter-sweet.

Then again, every stage of parenting seems to be better than the last one.

It really has.

Like, babies were cute…. but also caused sleepless nights and long, zombified days.

And also there was that wHierd poop stage when they were super puny.



After that, toddlers were cute…. but that’s when they began to move on their own and we were always trying to steer them away from the corners of coffee tables, and also stairs, to prevent, like, concussions and stuff.

Then, when they could talk, that was totally a better stage… but then they could say ‘no’.

And also, they learned to ask ‘why?’ as a response to every. Single. Freakin’. Thing. You. Said.

Which, at first, made you feel smaHt.

But later on, you were looking for ways to cause the concussions that you were trying to prevent less than a year earlier.

What, you never did that?


Well, then there was that even better stage where you could discuss things with them… but often you were wrong because they had, by then, discovered you were neither all-knowing, nor omnipotent.

And when they became teenagers, it was great, but you became even less intelligent as they were now convinced that they were both all-knowing and omnipotent.

But now the Nearly Perfect Husband and I are getting smaHt again, at least a little bit.

Also, their ability to manage their own poop has improved substantially.

So you see? Each stage has been better than the last.

And its all good.

I have faith that this trend will continue.

Thanks for readin’.

*Schafer is Half-Kid Jack’s last name, and the edict, ‘shut up Schafer’, is invoked often during disagreements (even by me and the Nearly Perfect Husband (especially by the Nearly Perfect Husband!)).

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