Thursday, March 6, 2014
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Layla: Mom try this one. It smells like a tree. Yuck! It's you-ka-lips-us?
Liam: Wait, try this one. It smells like dirty dog fur.
Layla: Gross! This one smells like Liam's underpants. Haha!
Liam: Does not! This one smells like Layla's armpits.
*Insert pushing and shoving and and a look from the Whole Foods associate lucky enough to be stationed at the incense/dream-catcher counter.* That's when I motion to the kids to put the soap down and we quickly move on to the macrobiotic section. Yep, that's how it usually goes.
Yesterday was different. I was feeling generous—not unlike Oprah. You get a soap. You get a soap. We all get a soap. You should have seen the kids eyes. It was if I said that they could choose any toy at Toys R' Us. What?! Oh, yes! The only stipulation was that the soap be smaller than my phone. It's pay by the ounce and Mama isn't that generous. (I'm not new to this mom thing; I knew half the soap would end up down the drain.)
Layla chose a petite vanilla-mint rectangle and Liam went for a big square of the honey-lemon. $7 dollars and two happy kiddos later we were on our way home *insert arguing over who got to take a shower first.* Who'd have thought? It just takes a couple of fancy soaps? It's the little things.
Friday, February 28, 2014
When I was a kid I didn't mind my freckles—in fact, I really liked having them. I was the only one in my circle of friends lucky enough to sport the little chocolate speckles. My grandma used to call them angel kisses, and I loved them. I loved everything about them. In the winter I'd have just a sprinkle of them on my nose, while the summer brought on a dark explosion of them all over my face. I have fond memories of swimming all day and afterwards checking to see how many new freckles had materialized. They were cute; a sign of youth and fun. As I grew older though, I started to think about my freckles differently. They weren't endearing anymore—they were an annoyance, something that I took great pains to conceal.