Logan can't pronounce the letter "r' if it falls in the middle of a word. This results in the kind of kiddie speech impediment that I personally find rather charming under the age of 8 or so. I admit that this little quirk probably would have worried me to distraction if it was almost 5-yo Jo we were talking about ... but it isn't, and I freely admit that I apply a totally different set of standards to number three than I did to number one.
Which has made me wonder: how will I be when I am parenting numbers 4 and 5? If my expectations of parenting when I hopped on this roller coaster were mountains, I'm already slaloming somewhere mid-slope at this point. Can I really afford to let them slide any further?
More things that prove I am a mom of more than one:
1. I let my kids wear jeans with holes in the knees. I remember seeing parents whose kids were wearing ratty clothes and thinking that they really could do better. This was, of course, when Jo was fully outfitted in the latest attire from very generous grandparents. Nowadays I calculate how long it is until the end of the season, divide that by the number of kids those clothes are going to serve over their lifetime in my house, and base any purchases on the final outcome of that equation.
2. My sons have cowlicks that run amok. And I don't even spray them down unless we're leaving the house. There. I've said it.
3. Our collection of Tonka trucks live on the back patio. Was a day when I considered it time well spent hosing them off after each trip to the sandbox. After all, gotta keep those pricey little items looking sharp so that when the grandkids come to visit in 30 years, they're still in pristine shape. Now the poor things are blooming rust under our grill. Oh, well.
4. I read really simple storybooks to Logan when he asks for them. ((sigh)) Poor Jo. I can remember my own excitement to get to the chapter books I had so loved as a child. As a result, I pushed her into the "big girl" read-alouds probably waaay earlier than I should have. granted, she seems none the worse for the wear. But I do wonder how many times she would have rather heard "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" but took my suggestion of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" instead.
5. Jo is just now learning to braid her own hair. I really have never taken the time to teach her. Frankly, it's always easier to just do it myself in between tying little brother's shoes and trying to brush my own teeth as we're heading out. I always thought that if I had a little girl, we'd be doing each other's hair from the time she was three.
6. All of our birthday party invitations say "no presents" ... and we mean it. I'm fairly certain that there's not a single toy out there that we need. Funny thing is, my dc are mostly convinced of this as well. While they look longingly at live animals (Jo), comic books (Atticus) and art supplies (Logan), they very, very rarely ask for anything toy-like. And I'm more than happy with that!
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