“Mom, it’s 2:13 PM. You better get to wrapping!”
Tomorrow is the Butterfly’s 9th Birthday. She’s afraid that I’m going to forget to wrap her presents in time and that she may have to wait even longer for the gifts she’s been waiting forever for.
Okay, before you think what a horrible ungrateful child, let me say this: she knows me.
I leave things to the last minute. She doesn’t realize that the last minute is the only time I typically have to get these things done.
Yesterday, she had a fun filled party with my family. We celebrate nearly all of the kid’s birthdays at once, because they’re all crammed in together just before Christmas.
Among her favorite gifts of the day? Moccasin boots.
She’s been studying pioneer times for a while now and loves to learn about Native Americans and how they made their clothes, jewelery and moccasins.
She’s thrilled to have a pair of her own, that match her style. The traditional brown isn’t quite flashy enough.
Now the Princess wants a pair of “Moxicans” in bright pink for Christmas.
It was a great party. [Translation: I didn’t have to do any of the work]
I’ve had three days off from my normal routine of writing, homeschooling, chauffeuring children around and you know what?
Somehow, this long weekend was not at all restful. Am I the only one struggling to recover from this so called break?
“Mom! It’s 3:22!” She’s yelling to me from the family room now.
“Yeah, and?” I reply, as if I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“You should be wrapping my presents!”