Some weeks are heavy. This was one of them. It’s the only word I can use to describe it.

This morning, my husband pulled our youngest out of bed and carried him to our room to get dressed. As the baby of the family, we still help him with these tasks. It’s just kind of easier to do it this way than to wait and beg for him to do it himself…mostly because he’s a beast in the morning and I have no patience before coffee.

McKenna is nearly 10. She was supposed to have the larger of the two kids’ bedrooms with the bigger closet. But plans changed and the boys now share the bigger room. McKenna has the smallest room in the house with the tiniest closet. For a fashionista, this is problematic.

Does anyone else have one of those kids who just has to be busy all the time? Maybe they are always reading or riding a bike. Or maybe they have to have a little project going all the time. Maybe they spend their time doing little craft projects or watching TV or playing a game or just chatting your head off.

We had just finished two episodes of 1923, having stayed up much too late to watch. I had heard Theo making noises in his sleep on and off for the last couple hours and thought nothing of it.

That kid is a sleep talking, giggling, noise making chatterbox.

Borrowing this Day in Ten Cuts format from Chats From Chile. Thanks for the inspiration.

As a young (and naive) teacher, I assigned the leprechaun trap project. I didn’t know any better. I’m sorry. Now, as a mom of three, I dread this project every year. I swear that I will NEVER subject parents to this torture ever again. I’ve written about it several times over the years. In 2023 we didn’t have any school traps but my kids demanded to make them anyway. In 2022, one of my kids had a trap she needed to bring to school. This is when I realized my mistake and I apologized to all the parents of all the kids I ever taught.

She’s been riding a hand-me-down bike for the last couple years. At the end of the summer, I noticed it was time to upgrade to a bigger frame. I made a mental note of it and brushed it from my mind.

Email. It’s the leash that ties me to…everything and everyone. I have two main accounts. One is for work and one is personal. I keep them separate. Having unread emails is a source of anxiety to me. Seeing that little red bubble on my phone sends me into a panic. I just cannot deal. I move my work email to the last page of my phone and turn off notifications for the weekend. Seeing those emails come in would just ruin me.