To me, Mark’s school is some kind of mismanaged charity with inconsistent guidelines where the presence of kids is an inconvenience and volunteers are always needed urgently because made-up reasons.
Browsing: Senior Kindergarten Mark
Sometimes, I say ONE thing ONCE and it will be remembered forever. Problem is, I never know what will stick with Mark. If I did, parenting would be easier, right?
It takes me a second to realize that Mark snuck into my bedroom again. I smile.
Mark’s big questions always come out of the blue—even though I’m pretty sure he has been thinking about them for hours—and they often start with an assertion statement.
On a quiet Sunday last fall, my in-laws decided that Feng and I had failed at parenting again. The situation was serious—at the ripe old age of 5, Mark couldn’t swim.
Feng and I froze. I looked over my shoulder. Mark was standing outside, by the door, his hand….
On December 1, Feng and I had a combined fever of 80ºC, and suddenly, writing to Santa was no longer a priority.
“All done with your Christmas shopping?” the salesperson asked cheerfully as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer started playing for the 275th times.
Alright. Maybe Mark doesn’t speak French. And yes, maybe it’s my fault.
Picture me, a cake box on my open left palm, my right hand clutching three strings attached to three large balloons threatening to fly away at any moment in the cold breeze.
I can’t remember a bedtime routine that didn’t include a quick check on the date and a promise that yes, one day it would be October 12.