February 14, 2011
Last night, our kids stayed up until 9pm (the middle of the night for them) to watch the Duke v. Miami basketball game on television.
Today we had a very happy Valentine's Day.
"I hate my family," announced Cortlen at the breakfast table as he rubbed his eyes.
"Just wait until your thirteen," I replied. "Then you'll really love us."
I made cupcakes for Kellen's class party. I packed the leftovers in my kids' lunch boxes.
"How did each of you like your cupcake?" I asked when they got home.
"What cupcake?" barked Cortlen. He still hated his family.
My husband and I decided to give each of our kids valentines this year. Tim gave one to Camber. I made the boys' cards and put them on their beds.
"Where's my freaking valentine?" Cortlen screamed, just ten minutes ago.
"Watch your mouth," I warned. It took awhile, but Cortlen eventually found his valentine on top of his pillow, right where I had left it.
"Let me see your valentine," he snapped, snatching the card out of Kellen's hand.
His theory turned out to be false: I had not put a $10 bill in his brother's card and not his.
"When you are tired, you feel persecuted," I said simply and told him to go brush his teeth. It was time for my valentine to go to bed.
"You feel persecuted!" she shot back instinctively. That's when I realized that he didn't know what the term 'persecuted' meant. I turned off the light in his bedroom.
"My family is evil!" he screamed as I shut the door.
Two minutes later, he was fast asleep.
I just found this outside his door:
It's the card I gave him. Awww. How sweet.