Vincent is a highly energetic little boy. He rarely sits still. Probably his only quiet times are nap and night-time. Lately, he is vocal about all of his activities throughout the day. The other day, Vincent told me about his time at the park with Dominic and his dad. It was one of those parks with little play fire engines or school buses the kids can climb in and pretend to drive around. Vincent said, “Mom! I went to the park today! I climbed in the school bus! Yeah mom! and I turned the steering wheel, Mom! I am a good bus driver!!”
If you are facebook friends, you may have already seen this one, but it makes me too darn happy not to share it here. Last Saturday, we had a couple of graduation parties to attend. Dominic was in his usual form, walking around and charming everyone, hugging on the ladies. Truth be told, he gives plenty of guys hugs, too, but I think the ladies respond the most favorably, so he hits them up most often.
Anyway, at the second of the graduation parties, there was a woman that we don’t know who was sitting at a table across from Dominic. She had asked him if he knew who the guest of honor was (he doesn’t — I’m just friends with the Dad and that was how we were invited) or how he knew her. Well, after a bit, Dominic walked around the table and gave this woman a hug and kissed her hip. The woman looked a bit alarmed, so I did what I usually do when Dominic has overstepped a little bit and reminded him to ask before hugging or kissing, that sometimes people might not be comfortable with it. Then Dominic looks at me with his big blue eyes and we have the following conversation:
OMGosh, melt this momma’s heart. He is a very sweet boy.
If you’ve been reading for any length of time here at Endless Strength, you know that Helen is a major “Mommy’s Girl.” Of all of my children, she is the one who will run to me every morning before I leave to ensure she kisses me good bye. She is the one of my children who gets distraught at the idea that if I leave in the evening, she won’t see me again until morning. Of my children, she is the one who creates the most guilty feelings inside of me when I spend a lot of time at work, etc.
A couple of weeks ago, Sarah had a late Friday night volleyball game to which I decided not to allow Helen to tag along. I found this on my bed:
|2nd grade spelling cracks me up|
“roses are white;
vilots are nice
take me to sarah’s volleyball game
and I won’t wyne”