Two days is really not enough time to recover from working for five. All you people out there pulling six day, sixty hour weeks, please refrain from a fake pity party.
Between GED programming on Saturday, the fun fair at Little Boy’s school Saturday evening, and then church stuff and helping a friend with her computer Sunday night, I didn’t get a lot of “me” time - time to just veg out and not do anything. I didn’t get much housework done either.
Speaking of Little Boy: He is now seven. Seven. I wonder how that happened? He was just born; I remember it very clearly. However, somehow he has arrived at Seven, and he gets miffed when I call him my Little Boy. As a result, Little Boy will no longer do as his blog name.
I’ve think I like The Kid. It’s age appropriate, and has a vague cowboy feel to it that I like.
So, The Kid it is.
It makes me sad to think that someday Ian will not be my little boy!
Oh, I still call Toby “bunny rabbit,” which doesn’t really fit a boy about to hit puberty. Adam, OTOH, is “pit bull.”
I often call Michael “Little Boy” or “Weird Boy.” He is five eight and towers over me, so Little boy is funny, but weird boy is more accurate.
I got kind of used to my son not being my little boy when he started high school. Son #2 growing up is just par for the course. Babies don’t keep worth a damn.
The Kid is still “honey bunny” sometimes. He’ll probably be “honey bunny” when he’s 50.