Or really, I should say “this week is done with me.” It won. It beat me. I give up.
Someone I love passed away, far too young, and we say good-bye to her on Tuesday. It was only the second funeral I’ve ever attended and holyshititwasgutting.
I didn’t know when exactly I expected to lose it during the service, but it wasn’t when I expected it to happen. It was during the hymn about loving all God’s creatures.
Suddenly I was sobbing “She hated spiders!” into my sister’s shoulder. She nodded through her tears. “No, she REALLY hated spiders!” I was borderline hysterical at this point. How had I forgotten, until that stupid hymn, how much she hated spiders? It shattered me.
I shared the first batch of finished pieces back in October, about a month after starting the class, and then shared more finished pieces in November. So everything below is what’s come out of the kiln from November until the end of March. (I’ll share the newest pieces soon, once I’ve caught up here on the ol’ blog.)
Let’s dive in!
Helping a toddler fall asleep means helping them brush their teeth, wrangling them into their PJs, answering numerous questions, managing requests for drinks of water and making them try to pee just one last time.
Putting school-aged kids to bed is far easier in most ways. They can brush and floss their own teeth. They can put on their own PJs and put their dirty clothes in the laundry. They’ll pee if they need to pee — but usually they’ll wait until they’re in bed and then decide to take a jaunt down the hall. (Let’s not even get into the whole sleepwalking thing today.)
Even bedtime stories are different in our house, now that we have two kids who can read! Our five-year-old daughter reads us a book first, while I dig my fingernails into my palms to keep myself from blurting out the words. Then our seven-year-old son reads us a longer, more difficult book, or we take turns reading a page at a time.
After that, it’s time for prayers, which the kids can also say aloud on their own now. (Our daughter is extremely proud she’s finally remembering to say “thy” instead of “I” during the Our Father.) Then there’s a flurry of hugs and kisses, and everyone gets tucked in. Done!
“Mom, I don’t know what to dream about,” our seven-year-old called down the stairs one night. My husband and I exchanged “Huh?” looks, and he paused our show so I could answer …