I have tea parties. I color. I read aloud. I ask, “What color is this?” “What does (fill in this blank with some animal) say?” “What sound does (fill in this blank with some letter) make?” “What do you think about that?” All. day. long. I sing songs. I sound out words. I count everything out loud. I answer “Why?” and “Why?” and “Why?”
I watch. I praise. I watch again. And again. And again. I teach. I spot.
I kiss boo boos. I teach manners. And responsibility. And problem solving. And everything.
I discourage whining. I try to reinforce more effective ways of communicating. I try to teach my girls to be strong and direct.
I do laundry.
I referee fights over who gets to wear which headband. Over who gets the little Cinderella doll (or “Wedda” as Lass calls her). Over who gets to hold Baby Sis first.
I change diapers. I wash diapers. I fold diapers.
I nurse a newborn. I take forever to get out of the house.
I cook. I clean up. I cook. I clean up.
I wipe mouths and noses and counters and hands and tables and rear ends.
I give baths. I comb hair that is like silk. I fix pony tails. I say “You’re beautiful.” “You’re smart.” “You’re strong.” “You’re funny.”
I do laundry.
I help to outfit Super Heros.
Daddy helps them to fly.
I do more laundry.
I give lots of hugs. And kisses. I snuggle. I tickle.
Sometimes I just sit. And watch. And I’m thankful that I am fortunate enough to be able to do all of these things and so much more. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
