I don't want every day to become everyday

Once upon a time, I was an English teacher. One of the very practical things I learned was the difference between every day and everyday. "Every day" refers to the frequency of an event. "Everyday" means commonplace.

People have said that when your kids are young, the days are long and the years are short. This. is. so. true.  I want take a moment and preserve the days when my kids were young.

Every day, I go into Coralie's room to get her up.

Then she goes into Madeline's room to get her up.

Here's the happy baby!

Coralie says, "Good morning, sugar bum! How did you sleep?"

Madeline giggles and reaches for Coralie. Each girl gets dressed, and then we eat breakfast.

 Here, it's scrambled eggs with cheese and ham. And bread. Not even toasted, the poor girls.

Then the girls play in Coralie's room. Coralie calls it "making a mess" because they dump out her cubes full of toys. Then Madeline starts eating on one of Coralie's toys, and Coralie starts stuffing junk into her purses. It's exhilarating play.

 These are from a few days ago so the outfits are different, but the play is the same.

One day, the girls will roll out of bed on their own and come into the kitchen fully dressed in their goth outfits and snarl at me as I set bowls out for them on the counter. Then they will chew loudly and grab their purses and breeze out the door on their way to school. As I nurse my wounds of being ignored, I will remember the days when we played together and spent all morning making messes in Coralie's bright, happy room.

The fighting, oh the fighting

We have an attitude-policeman in our home. It's Coralie.

Say Ryan and I are arguing (I know, it's hard to believe, but stick with me here) and I accidentally use a sharp tone of voice with him. Coralie will immediately pipe up and say, "Mom, don't talk to my dad like that! Why are you being mean to him?"

I raise my eyebrows behind her back and Ryan rejoices.

I explain very patiently, "Coralie, I wasn't being mean to Daddy. We were just having a discussion."

Coralie replies, "Well, don't have a discussion! He's a professional and he loves you very much."

Ryan then starts pumping the air, which effectively ends the argument.

It doesn't matter who started the fight, or whether or not Ryan is "being mean" to me. Coralie will simply not tolerate a harsh tone of voice from me. We have had this same scenario play out at least three times over the past month or so, which has turned this phenomenon into a pattern.

Yesterday at lunch, I was tired. I was putting food on Madeline's tray, but I guess I wasn't chipper enough for Coralie, because she said, "Mom, why are you not smiling at Madeline?"

For heaven's sake, Coralie. I can't even have a discussion with your father because "he's a professional and he loves me very much", and now I can't feed Madeline without a smile plastered on my face? You have pretty high standards for me, kid. Remember, I am the baby of my family and therefore am allowed to be moody. So back off.

(Also, I love you.)

And before any of you feel sorry for Coralie that she lives in a home where the parents fight all the time, stop right there. We don't fight all the time, not even close. And we don't really raise our voices. Well, okay, we do sometimes, but it's just because Ryan thinks the louder he talks the smarter his ideas are, and I just have to drown out his stupid ideas with a louder response.

Love ya, babe.  : D