Last Thursday, I kept Shef home from school for some quality “mommy and me” time. Keeping my kid at home can either be an idyllic advertisement for the lovely life of the stay-at-home-mother, or a warning for all womankind: unless you want your child pinching your nipple and kicking you in the shins for all the world to see, for God’s sake, leave him at daycare.

Thursday was, thank goodness, the latter, so I complimented my toddler on his evolved behavior:

“Shef!” I exclaimed, as I drove home after a day of fun that included music class, the park, a restaurant, and the Y. “You did such a nice job today! There was no hitting, or pushing, or pinching…”
“Or spitting!” he interjected.

This weekend, we went to the cabin, and he continued to behave like a peach. Although there was very little sleeping, there was lots of happy frolicking in the water. We all did water sports to escape the heat, and I decided to let Shef, age 27 months, kayak on his own: