During a tutoring session with a 2nd grader…
Me (after we read a story about a man who wasted his wishes on material things, and ended up with nothing): “And so if you had one wish, what would it be?”
Kid (thinks long and hard; seems indecisive): “I guess….a red sno-cone. That’s my favorite.”
Me (disappointed): “Really? You looked like you were deciding between that and something else. Something a little more meaningful, maybe….?”
Kid: “Well, I was going to say I’d wish for the world to be a better place.”
Me: “YES!!!! YES YES YES. I love that. Now THAT is a beautiful, powerful, meaningful wish. Why didn’t you choose that one?!”
Kid: “Because you can’t wish for that.”
Kid: “You have to DO that. You can’t just wish for it, you have to DO it.”
(Full circle continuation of Ebola Mom, Part 1)
Wonder how she’s doing….
Me, 3 years ago, had I heard Trump was being impeached:
Eric: “Nora! Look at me!”
Nora: (sees Cookie Monster stuffed animal on floor) “Cookieeeeeee!”
Eric (defeated): “You’re just like your mother.”
At the kiddie gym, Nora is playing at the chalk board with another boy.
Nora (picks up yellow piece of chalk, shows it to boy): “It’s yellow!”
Boy’s Mom: “Oh my god, she knows her colors?! That’s amazing!”
Me: “Yeah I know it’s crazy.”
Boy’s Mom: “She’s a genius!”
Me: “Haha I like to think so!”
Nora: (picks up pink chalk): “It’s yellow!”
Nora: (picks up green chalk) “It’s yellow!”
Nora: (picks up blue chalk) “It’s yellow!”
Me: “Haha ok maybe she doesn’t know ALL the colors….”
Nora: (picks up bug off the floor) “It’s yellow!”
Me: “No no Nora that’s a bu—”
Nora: (eats bug)
Me: “Nora, no!”
Nora (mouth full of bug): “It’s yellow!”
Boy’s Mom: <Picks up kid. Leaves.>
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
Cool. Glad you’re hearing my words.
Acquaintance: “So, I’ve seen your blog– is your life really as fun as you make it seem?”
Acquaintance: “Or is it just, like, social-media, everything-is-great curation?”
Me: “You’ve seen the blog– have you read the WORDS on the blog?”
Speaking with a new mom I met in our building, who has a son around Nora’s age, I mention that as much as I’m completely in love with my daughter, I’ve definitely had some bumps along the way in adjusting to motherhood.
Her: “Ugh, I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with postpartum depression.”
Me: “Oh, you’re very sweet and I appreciate that so much, but I actually, very fortunately, have NOT had to deal with postpartum depression.”
Her: “Oh, my bad! I just thought from what you were saying…it sounded like a postpartum depression type thing.”
Me: “Oh, no. I actually was very nervous I’d have postpartum depression because I’m definitely at risk. But surprisingly I didn’t. What I’m talking about is just like normal parenthood transition stuff, you know?”
Me: “Maybe you DON’T know…”
Her: “I don’t know, I guess I just haven’t found the transition difficult at all. It’s really only brought me joy.”
Me: “Wow, that’s awesome. You’ve really never been totally overwhelmed? Or anxious about the huge responsibility of raising a human? Or even just like ‘AHHHH I miss my old life!?'”
Her: “Honestly, no. I love every second of it. Is that weird?”
Me: “I mean no, it’s amazing! Good for you. ENJOY IT!”
You lying cunt.
“When will my boobs grow big?”
— Kid, in the middle of our lesson, out of NOWHERE.
He’s a boy.