Trying to give my kids the tools to deal with their mom’s inability to leave them alone. I’m sure this isn’t going to come back to bite me in the ass.
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You never know how ridiculous some of our words are until you have the clarity of a child.
The beaches in northern Oregon are so huge, the ocean feels like half a mile away from the dunes. Sneaker waves are actually quite scary. The beach we go to has trucks driving by. You have to look both ways before walking to the water.
I just realized I drew my kids into the comic but forgot to draw myself in it. This was a conversation over text messages.
There’s nothing quite like seeing a mirror of your previously unobserved habits in someone else and having to wrestle with both. “Why don’t you have shoes on?!” I say, shoeless and washing dishes.
Well, a lot of them do try to be nice. And then a lot of them really really don’t.
Obby and I take turns cleaning up dinner while the other puts the kids to bed. Turns out he’s much better at getting these kids to sleep than I am.
