john's mom works

these looked so much better in my mind. dear peanut, it's 21 minutes into your third birthday, and i'm awake. i just finished making cupcakes for your class tomorrow. they're not as beautiful as i thought they might be but know i iced them all with extra love to make up for their imperfections. three years ago right now i wasn't sleeping either. i was up walking around the house, and i couldn't get comfortable. i had a feeling -- and i would prove to be right -- that you were letting me know that you were ready. you were ready to come into your daddy and my life: to change everything we knew, including ourselves and each other. as i was icing those cupcakes tonight, your baby brother was kicking around inside my belly. and i remember when you were kicking around in there, and we were just waiting to meet you. we loved you already, you see, but we had to meet you to understand how very much. now i can't wait for you to meet your baby brother with ...

oh, those socks ... yesterday morning, john put on his socks and promptly pulled them up almost to his knees. "silly boo," i said, "put your socks down!" "no, mommy, i want them up!" he said emphatically. so up they stayed. *   *   * in the kitchen, i talked to my husband. "he's too young for his friends to make fun of him for his socks, right?" i asked. "yeah," my husband replied, "i think he's got a year or two." i just nodded. *   *   * when i dropped john off at the school, i said to his teacher, "please forgive john's socks ... i know they look ridiculous but he insisted!" she laughed and said, "actually, that's how they wear them these days." dismayed, i walked out to my car. apparently john was more in touch with fashionable socks than i was. for the first time, my three-year-old was officially cooler than me. *   *   * there...

a day that started out as silly hair day got  somewhat more interesting after school. today was silly hair day at school. because he is a rock star, john wore a mohawk - and wore it well, i might add. the view after school, was a little different. here is the story of how john met some firemen. when we ran out of school this afternoon, john climbed into his seat. he insisted on helping buckle himself, as usual, but it still took both my hands to get him strapped in and cinched down. realizing i had neglected to get the list of names of kids in his class, i told john, "i am going to run back inside real quick, i will be right back!" he said, "ok!" so i closed the door. and realized i left my key on the seat next to him when i buckled him up. i tried to open the door. it was locked. another parent was there with me, and i turned to her and said, "who do i call for something like this? the sherriff's office maybe?" as i ran ...