Sometimes I let my kids' fingernails get so long that if they needed to defend themselves against angry ninjas and/or high school cheerleaders they'd have the upper hand. If they ever go to high school in ancient Japan they'll be all set.
Sometimes I let my kids fall asleep watching DVDs on the couch and instead of moving them to their bed I laugh at them and get my camera.
Sometimes I let Tess hide in the cupboard. It's her hideout; who am I to begrudge her of her hideout? She has popcorn. She has oxygen. She's fine.
Sometimes I make macaroni and cheese with hotdogs for dinner.
Sometimes I sing along with the radio at the top of my lungs for them. The other day I was singing "Devil Went Down to Georgia" and they kept saying, "Mom, you don't have to sing for us. Please stop," and I was like, "I do it because I love you...and the devil jumped up on a hickory stump and said 'boy lemme tell you what!'"
Sometimes I intervene when I hear Macey and Olivia having a "Nuh-UH!" "Yuh-HUH!" "NUH-UH!" "YUH-HUH!" argument. Sometimes I don't, though, when the subject they are debating is too controversial, like whose turn it is to have the front of the bathtub or the gender of their toys.
See? I'm such a good mom.
P.S. Happy Photography Phriday.