About This Blog
Welcome to my blog. I'm Anne-Marie Nichols, a 40-something WAHM to Nathan, 6, and Lucie, 3. I've been married 12 years to their dad Paul, a scientist. When I'm not doing the mommy thing, I'm a freelance writer, and vice president of the board of directors for a Colorado public charter school. In my spare time I like to sleep, eat, read, and decorate cakes.
I created this online journal to share some entertaining and insightful stories from my own experiences as a writer, domestic engineer, and mom. I encourage you to share this blog with your friends, and hopefully it will spark some lively discussions on issues we can all relate to. Enjoy!
|
Nov 28 2008
Mr. Money Bags
Nathan finally lost his other front tooth. (He broke one in a fall a couple of years ago and it was pulled by our dentist.) After a visit from the tooth fairy, he now has over $6 in his piggy bank.
I must say, unlike the rest of the family, he's really good about not spending his money. He's very patient and rarely finds something he wants to buy.
Instead, he has a talent for getting other people to buy stuff for him. When Paul takes the kids shopping for birthday, Christmas or Mother's Day presents, he refuses to contribute any funds. Instead, he tells Paul that since he's the one with a job, he should pay for everything. Can't find fault with that logic.
I find this very amusing, but know this skill may serve him well as he grows up. As long as he's charming, sweet, and handsome, he'll be able to get away with it.
Nov 27 2008
I'm done, get over it
I don't know what's going on with my children lately, but there seems to be a movement underway for a new baby brother...or two.
Earlier this fall, Lucie got a book from the library about a family having a new baby. That's fine, it was a cute story. Then she brought it to preschool and told her teachers that I was having a baby. Not that they believed her, but Mrs. Jansen asked anyway. When I told her that I was too old to have any more babies -- I'm 41 after all -- Lucie started to cry, "But I want a baby brudder."
So we made an agreement that she could "borrow" a couple of baby brudders, I mean brothers, from some of the moms we knew. We settled on my friend Michelle's little boy, Aidan, who's gorgeous and a big flirt. Whenever Aidan's around I'm compelled to pick him up and kiss him.
Since Lucie needed two babies, we decided to borrow my friend Emily's little boy Declan, too. Declan is even less a morning person than Lucie. He always has a big frown on his face when Emily drops his big brother off at preschool. His expression just cracks me up. But he's adorable and looks just like my nephew Oliver did at that age, lots of white blond hair and big blue eyes.
I did notify the moms just in case Lucie mentioned something. Michelle and Emily told me they'd be happy for us to borrow their boys anytime. Oh boy, what was I getting into? Luckily, after our "compromise" the subject went away for a while.
Then today we were reading, Froggy's Baby Sister. In it, Froggy wants a baby brother (but ends up with a sister). Lucie started with the "I want a baby brudder" tirade again, and got very upset when I said that I was not going to have any more babies. Then I reminded her about Baby Aidan and Baby Declan.
"That's OK, Mama," Lucie said. "I only need one baby brudder. Can Baby Aidan come over? He can sleep in my bed."
Oh boy, just when I got rid of all the diapers in the house, too.
Nov 26 2008
Punk rock ballerina
Friday mornings, I change into my yoga gear and Lucie dresses up in her tights, dance t-shirt, ballet skirt and slippers. Then the whining starts, "I don't want to go to ballet class. I want to stay home."
I tell Lucie, "Tough luck, kiddo. Mommy's going to yoga class. Get in the car."
After more whining and protests, we drive off to the dance studio. In the parking lot, she tells me, "Ballet is stupid and I don't like you, Mommy."
Shrugging off that lovely remark, I sign us in. I drop Lucie off in the dance studio and Nathan in the drop in daycare room. I finally head off to yoga and try to mentally leave behind my worries about a certain young drama queen.
An hour later I find a little ballerina leaping around the halls, telling me what a wonderful time she had in class. She enjoyed it so much that she wears part of her ballet costume for the rest of the day. With her pink and black high tops, her dance t-shirt, a pair of pink shorts, and her always messy hair, she looks like a punk rock ballerina.
She certainly has the attitude to go with it.
|