(Try sitting like that for 30 minutes, ouch.)
Lincoln took a bath tonight because he fell in a frozen pond before dinner.
Lincoln: I fell in the pond, Mom, but it's okay, because the boys pulled me out.
Me [thinking to myself]: He has no idea how often he's flirted with death.
I told him to grab clean undies, jammies, and meet me in the bathroom.
Me: Are these clean undies? [holding up undies on the bathroom counter]
Lincoln: No, I've worn those for 17 years.
Somehow, that's not comforting. 17 years worth of 6 year-old skids . . .
The kids begged to make cookies this afternoon. ALL of them. You can imagine my joy [heh] at the thought. [5 people + 1 bowl of dough = Mom has to share.] Good christian mother that I am [sigh], we did it. It really wasn't so bad, the sharing. Always thinking ahead, I doubled the batch.
Okay, okay, honestly, I love when we all are doing something together. The kids assume certain roles: Brigham is a second mother, directing--more like ORDERING--everyone around, William just wants to crack the eggs, Lincoln has to touch everything, and Annie is content turning on the mixer. Things like this make me happy, the simple every day's of life. These are the things I remember doing with my mother. I still remember her old brown mixing bowl [that she uses still]. However, I NEVER remember her hesitating as she passed me the bowl to lick. Sweet mother of mine.