![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
There's two, both pink, age 7 and 2. They're annoying, beautiful, cute, demanding, exceptional, fussy, greedy, huggy, intelligent, jumpy, kissy, loving, maddening, naughty, off the wall, playful, quiet, rebellious, spoiled, troublesome, unpredictable, vain, wilful, young, eXtraordinary, zippetododah girls and we love them to bits.
I think they're sort of fond of us too. Youngest is potty training and has a distressing habit of taking off her poopy diaper and examining the contents in detail while I'm not looking. Luckily, there's a built in ability not to get grossed out when you're a parent; with regard to your own kids anyway.
It's report card day for biggest and I'm quietly confident. Sheesh. Grade 2 and they get reported on in such detail and such grandiose terminology. We never had reports until we were 9 and it was along the lines of "Reading; Jane is good at reading". "Maths: Jane is bad at maths."
Not that I was; I ended up taking it at A level so there Mr Tierney. (I failed but I still took it and I bet I could still quad a ractic if I had to. Not that I do, did or ever will). There was this perception, as deep rooted as girls play with Barbies, boys with cars, that if you were good at English you were bad at maths. The human brain obviously not capable of comprehending both at the same time.
I think they're sort of fond of us too. Youngest is potty training and has a distressing habit of taking off her poopy diaper and examining the contents in detail while I'm not looking. Luckily, there's a built in ability not to get grossed out when you're a parent; with regard to your own kids anyway.
It's report card day for biggest and I'm quietly confident. Sheesh. Grade 2 and they get reported on in such detail and such grandiose terminology. We never had reports until we were 9 and it was along the lines of "Reading; Jane is good at reading". "Maths: Jane is bad at maths."
Not that I was; I ended up taking it at A level so there Mr Tierney. (I failed but I still took it and I bet I could still quad a ractic if I had to. Not that I do, did or ever will). There was this perception, as deep rooted as girls play with Barbies, boys with cars, that if you were good at English you were bad at maths. The human brain obviously not capable of comprehending both at the same time.