Look at the picture.
Five kids, four girls, and one rambunctious boy. Why wasn’t I informed at the hospital or even given instructions on how to deal with a boy? Somebody owes me some money because caring for this guy is too much work!
My son is my heart. Really, I mean like someone operated on me, opened up my chest, cut out my heart and gave it arms and legs. I love this little boy with everything within me. But it takes everything I’ve got to deal with him. This particular morning of running around, trying to get him dressed, dealing with him take on and off his sneakers, him telling me no and running away and chasing him all around, he decides he wants to put on his clothes and comes to me, stands on the couch in my bedroom and yells, “Look at me mommy!”
Yeah, just look at you Jo-Jo. Foolishness.
Now come here so I can kiss your silly face only for you to wipe it off…