I was talking to an author during lunch today who subs at our school from time to time. At one point, we had the following conversation:
Her: "So let me get this straight. You're a full time teacher here?"
Her: "And you have two kids?"
Her: (Long pause) "When the heck do you have time to write?"
Me: Well I'm not really a 'good' mom, per say...
At this point my fellow coworker Brad shouts across the lunch room, "Oh, come on! Every time I see your kids out on the street holding up their 'Will work for food' signs, I'm impressed by their work ethic."
Thanks for that, Brad.
In other kid-related news, I realized that I call everyone in my household "baby." Trin will hand me my thermos of iced-coffee and I'll say "Thanks baby." Clint will come home from work and I'm all "Hey baby." And so on. The problem is when you call everyone baby, they all respond. No one is sure which "baby" is your target audience. So I told the kids tonight, "I need new pet names for you guys. What do you want me to call you?"
"Sexy Taco," Trinity blurts out. Without even batting an eye.
And this is why you don't let your kids choose their own nicknames.
The publishing mayhem is just about over, and I almost have what sort of resembles a life again! YES. I'm sighing with relief so hard that I'm getting lightheaded.