Birdie has taken a hard stand against morning naps and so we wrestle it out in the rocking chair. She slaps me in the face with her flailing free hand and works up a froth of spit and boogers to try to repulse me. To any regular person it would be a great defense. But I'm a mother, and it takes more than snot to send me packing.
It's our morning smack down. I hold her close to me and I make sure to never ever lose.
And I sing. Sometimes hymns, but mostly I sing Native American chants that I make up while I pat her bottom to the beat.
We sing a lot in this house. Not well. But we do sing.
Birdie Sings a Ballad from April Meeker on Vimeo.
I thought I had a hang nail this morning and I went to bite it off with my teeth but it wasn't a hang nail. It was salty.I went ahead and swallowed anyway, because after all, I am a mother. These things don't phase me anymore.
Stumble It!
