Okay, so I felt a little guilty blaming my kids for becoming such a boring, unimaganitive mom, that I had to give them some air time.
Owen will be 5 next month, and he has really grown up in the last few months. Mind you, he can still throw a 3 year-olds temper tantrum like it was nobody's business, but I can plainly see that my first baby is no longer a baby.
He has his Preschool graduation last week, and I was startled to see the fruit of my loins actually behaving like a little man, all dressed up in his shirt and tie. I will not go into how I felt to see him don the ceremonial cap and gown.
(Don't blame me for the Bambi-killing...that one's all on his redneck father, bless his heart)
And Emma, what can I say about her except that she is most assuredly my daughter, sent from heaven to remind me how stubborn, opinionated, and demanding a child that I was.
And boy does she do a bang-up job of it. Sometimes I say she's all girl, like when she waltzes in after preschool and announces that she is changing her clothes, which usually results in a large ambigous pile of clothes that I have no choice but to wash.
Other times, though, she is the reincarnated tomboy of my childhood, giving the goods back to her brother before he has time to realize, literally, what hit him.
While at the beach the other day, Owen kept close company near me, not trusting the water to stay in the ocean. Emma, on the other hand, walked right down to the water's edge, plopped down and dug a hole (repeatedly, I might add, becasue the waves kept erasing her handiwork.
Night and day, those two. And I wouldn't have it any other way!
Good night, and good luck!
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