This is a comical moment I have been waiting to share until after the pregnancy announcement. The first three months of this pregnancy were pretty rough for me. I was super tired, emotional, and pretty cranky. I tried my hardest to power through but everyone who lives we me knows that I just wanted to sleep. The kids were pretty good at leaving me alone. Mostly because they probably didn’t want me to bite their heads off. Bless their little hearts. Sophia, however, always has to take things a step further. She is the ultimate peacemaker.

So one day as we were driving home from school. I complained out loud about Sophia’s teacher. (Please don’t find this post Mrs. Arnold – but if you are here by some crazy chain of events, you might as well know, you are total control freak. You scare me and I’ve been a room parent a long time.)

It was around Valentine’s Day. (Of course back in the beginning of the year I had been tricked into being the classroom parent for the hardest room in the school. All the PTA parents didn’t feel the need to inform me of such, but I should have known when they weren’t willing to do the job themselves. They are always willing to do everything.)

The 6th grade teachers have high expectations. They want us to plan a whole carnival for every holiday and to coordinate with parents from the other room so that we can all combine the fun. WHAT A PAIN! I did my duty for Halloween and Christmas and trapped a lot of other parents along with me, but this time I had politely told Mrs. Arnold that I would be glad to do the obligatory Valentine swap and treat but that I just couldn’t find the energy for The Ringling Brothers. She promptly e-mailed back that she would handle it . (Which probably means that the parents from the other room who got the whole thing dumped on them hate me – so be it – if they can’t set boundaries that is their problem.  And they probably aren’t pregnant so I will gladly let them handle it.) So I was  updating Sophia on where we stood with Valentine’s and was murmuring like I often do.

Sophia being the sweet girl that she is has learned to use humor as her go-to escape from negativity.

She silenced me mid-sentence. “Mom is that you, or is that the tadpole talking?”

I laughed at my daughter’s greatness and answered…

“The tadpole, of course….it’s an ornery little thing.”

That is my story and I am sticking to it, Mrs. Arnold.