Tomorrow, Big E turns six.
Mr. Yoy and I have made it 1/3 of the way to Big E's technical adulthood. But who are we kidding? We all know this kid is a scammer and will probably live off us until he is at least forty.
Either way, I'm really excited about this birthday. I feel like we are moving into a new stage of independence and growth. At dinner tonight I talked with Big E about what he expects to accomplish in his upcoming seventh year on this planet.
I WANT TO READ ALL THE BOOKS IN THE WORLD.
I WANT TO BUY THE REST OF THE LEGO CITY SETS.
I WANT TO STAY UP LATER.
CAN YOU STILL HAVE BABIES? BECAUSE IF YOU CAN, I WANT A BABY BROTHER OR SISTER?
Hold up. Stop the music. I was way, way, way on board with all of his stated goals. Even the Lego thing. Up until the last one.
For the record, I am a spring chicken and could pop out at least three or four more kids, if I really wanted to. And as much as I'd love to eat my face off and pack on an easy 50 pounds for the sake of my unborn child, that is a pretty big request. So, I deferred to Mr. Yoy.
YOU'LL HAVE TO ASK DADDY ABOUT THAT LAST ONE.
I quickly changed the topic and mentioned that in twelve short years he'd be moving out to attend Harvard. Boston is really lovely in the fall, I assured him.
I looked over at Little E. His bottom lip stuck out and began to quiver.
WHAT'S THE MATTER BUDDY?
He lost it.
I DON'T EVER WANT TO LEAVE YOU, MOMMY!
And even though I knew I should say something like, oh you'll be ready to go, I just told him he could live at home forever. And attend Georgia Tech.
The day my water broke.
Popular posts from this blog
Hi folks! A quick note from Mrs. Yoy as I know it's been awhile. For those that know me personally, you know that I've been very vocal in unsuccessfully convincing the Cobb County School board to change their COVID policies, which to this day, remain a steaming pile of sh*t. We follow zero health guidelines and figuring out the quarantine policy is akin to solving that math problem from Good Will Hunting. I will be publishing the letters I've sent to the board and Superintendent over the last 18 days of school. I've heard back from my representative, who is lovely, and my pediatric dentist who also serves on the board, but it's been crickets from the voting block of four and the Superintendent, Chris Ragsdale. Apparently, he's too busy pumping iron and self-tanning. Anyway, enjoy. HAPPY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! (E-mail sent on August 2, 2021) Good morning from East Cobb! As a long time resident, I am writing you this morning to plead with you to reconsider the mask
I have seen Mr. Yoy a total of 8 awake hours over the past week, with the majority of it coming last night when we hired a sitter and went over to the Dwood Yoysers to visit with my brand new nephew. Mr. Yoy is killing it at work. He is working crazy long hours and with NBA players now trademarking their eyebrows, I may never see Mr. Yoy again. Anyway, I'll admit it. I'm bored. And, a little lonely. I try to put the kiddos to bed at a reasonable hour, and then I have a few hours to tool around the house. I can only eat so much ice cream and watch so much Say Yes to the Dress before my brain begins melting and slowly slides out of my ears. Tonight, I spent 30 plus minutes on the phone with a stranger that was contemplating buying my bar stools I had for sale on Craigslist. We were chatting it up about how hard it was to find the right bar stools. The ones I am selling are pretty nice, solid stools. My one complaint is that they have wicker seats and if you look c
Good Morning from Quarantine-land in East Cobb. I am writing to you, as I have numerous times since the first day of school on August 2nd, to plead with you to reinstate the mask mandate in Cobb County Schools. I spent yesterday talking to my son through a bedroom door. We have been trying to limit contact between him and the rest of our family, as he received his first close contact letter on Tuesday. A COVID positive boy that sits at his table in class, MASKLESS , breathed on my son for an hour on Monday morning. Thankfully, my son was wearing his mask. We will go tomorrow to get tested for COVID. Currently, our days consist of temperature checks, CTLS checks, and a few massive meltdowns sprinkled in. As my son sobbed through the door, he relayed how stressed he was, worried about missing class while his assignments piled up. As I tried to soothe his troubled soul, I thought of you all. You did this. You own this terrible, gutless decision. My son then told me he is being teased at