Skip to main content

Rainy Days

 I may have mentioned once or twice before that our kids are...active.  They have a very large...zest for life.  Sometimes the house cannot contain their energy.  It has rained a lot in the last ten days, and I cannot contain their energy.  

By day two, I encouraged the boys to go outside.  It wasn't raining that hard.  That was all they needed to hear; they were out the door in a flash.  The girls...well, it would mean I'd have to go out with them, and I just wasn't built for cold-weather playground duty.  I'm happy to be in the weather doing stuff, but supervising in the cold is not my cup of tea.  

The girls were not thrilled with my choice.  

The boys, however, took full advantage and dug a pond.  Each.  Each boy dug a pond.  Because we need more holes in places.  When they "struck water!" they came to me with as much enthusiasm as if it had been oil.  I couldn't be mad.  

I was a little mad though when they used their boots to try and bail the water out.  I was also a little mad when they wore those boots in the house, and when they decided to wade barefoot in their ponds, and when they came barefoot into the house after wading in their ponds.  So there is that.   

At one point, they came in for swimsuits.  It was 46 degrees out.  I said no to the swimsuits which made them mad.  So we were even.  But I think I still lost because I ended up having to wash at least two sets of clothes from each of them.  Oh well, at least they were getting some fresh air.  

The girls weren't getting fresh air.  They were sneaking into my baking cabinet and mixing the flour with the sugar and the sugar with the flour.  Never, never turn your back on a quiet toddler.  

At the end of weeks like this, I need just a minute to recoup.  So, I recently started sneaking over to a neighbor's farm just for an hour to pull weeds or dig trenches.  Ross says it sounds boring.  I say it doesn't sound at all, and that's why it's so magical.         

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Little Bit Dicey

 This might be a little controversial.  I try to steer clear of such topics in this space, but it needs to be said.  Take it as you will, but know that it comes from a place of love, concern, and respect.  Here it is: there is a right  way to cut an onion. Now, I'm not saying this to try and get anyone's dander up.  I'm just saying it's a subject that needs to be addressed in kitchens across America.  There may be more than one right way to skin a cat (I can't say I've tested that), but the same does not hold true for onions.  Please, you can teach an old dog new tricks - learn how to properly cut an onion.  It will save you time, frustration, onion tears, and possibly a finger.     Now, since I'm still sitting here on blogspot like it's 2003, I'm not going to post any how-to videos, but I'll do the next best thing.  I'll paste a link right here .    Check it out.  Practice it.  Make it a habit.  T...
Post a Comment
Read more

Advanced Placement

 Not to brag or anything, but I think we are raising some very advanced children.  At two-years-of-age, our girls have already worked out the art of manipulation and deflection.  It's the antithesis of endearing.   They went missing the other day - the girls did.  That's never a good situation.  They were in the house, and I knew they were in the house, but I couldn't see or hear them.  Silence is the loudest alarm system.  Fischer took action and found them both in my bathroom.   "MOM!" I met them in the hall.  Carter was covered in clumps and blobs of hand cream. "Emi did it," was her unsolicited response.   "No," I told her.  "I think you  did it." That night I got ready for bed and pulled out my one "self-care" splurge - my face cream .  It was in my drawer where I always keep it.  The lid was screwed on.  And it was empty, wiped clean.  "EmmmeerrrrrSON!" Guilty.  They were both ...
2 comments
Read more

How to Tame a Toddler (and other myths in parenting)

I used to think I had started to hone my parenting skills.  Fischer was a much more mellow toddler than Sawyer, and I credited Ross and myself having the experience of one child under our belts.  It turns out, I was wrong.  Fischer was just a more mellow toddler .  That, or we have substantially regressed in our skills since having the twins.  It could be that. They are terrorists.   Nobody and nothing is off limits.   Our walls are covered in crayon and pencil.  Our new kitchen table has been branded with marker.  There is crayon on the windows.  My cupboards and drawers are empty.  My counter tops are full. They have figured out how to climb up on the table, and how to climb onto the windowsill and over the back of the couch, how to climb out of their cribs, and how to climb out of their clothes!       Our boys did not do these things.   I wasn't prepared.   I thought we had a plan...
Post a Comment
Read more