Sarah was all ready zip out the door today, but we somehow finished lunch five minutes early so she was hanging out in the cabin room until the clock indicated that it was time to go down to the corner to wait for the bus. She was so excited to…

Yesterday Mr. Sneaky Pants informed me, “Mama, you’re a really good poemer.” Upon further investigation I was enlightened with the translation that this meant I was really good at reading poems out loud, particularly poems about giraffes, and that Daddy was not.

You can tell that our little potty trainer has private parts on his brain still. Today he looked at me and asked in all seriousness, “Mama, is your penis slimy?” And we had to have that conversation about how girls just don’t have penises . . . again.