When Snowdrop sleeps over at the farmhouse, I am faced with the matter of giving her a morning bath. She is not interested in a shower and so the only available option is her baby bathtub, fitted into the kitchen sink. Given that Snowdrop is tall for her age, it makes for an interesting set of bathing moments.
And yet, she loves that routine! I give her just two plastic cups (with holes in them, so that she can create a fountain of water) and a rubber duckie -- same bath toys that she's had since she was a newborn -- and she'll play endlessly with them and protest to high heaven when I've had enough and lift her out of the wee tub.
Of course, when I announce breakfast with gaga and ahah, she forgets about the bath and focuses her attention on the pleasures before her.
These days I give her a choice for breakfast and today she proclaims that she wants what I'm having: oatmeal with fruit and honey and yogurt.
Ahah open this honey!
Ask him nicely...
Please!
She sees that my fruit bowl has mango in it. Mango and more mango becomes a repeated theme today.
But most of all, like me, Snowdrop loves just that touch of honey on a clump of oatmeal.
Loves it, too, because it's special. Whatever she has at home, it's not this. Mmmm -- that last drop of Wisconsin honey!
There isn't much time for play -- I have to return her home by 10, but she gives it a good try!
Toy macaron cookies!
And now it's time to put on your jacket. Race you to the car!
In the afternoon, Ed and I want to walk. But where? Our own courtyard and driveway are so muddy that it's almost impossible to make it from the car to the door without sinking into dark wet soil. The wood chips we dutifully lay down each year are no match for springlike thaws. It's likely that all trails will be equally wet.
We head out to the Picnic Point and pick up a rather well traveled and partly graveled path that takes you out on a slip of land that juts out into our largest lake.
It's muddy, but more or less walkable. It feels good to be outside, even though the views right now are rather somber.
The sky remains gray. I mean, everything remains gray!
The lake appears to be melting, at least around the edges. I suppose there's an artsy feel to the ice bricks...
...but honestly, the walk is more memorable for the good air and the limbering up that we get, rather than for the views around us.
In the evening, Snowdrop and her mommy are at the farmhouse for dinner.
At first, the little girl is full of bounce and her usual radiant happiness.
But slowly, a bug takes hold and by the end of the evening, Snowdrop just needs to snuggle.
To a good next week! For Snowdrop. For you. For all of us.
And yet, she loves that routine! I give her just two plastic cups (with holes in them, so that she can create a fountain of water) and a rubber duckie -- same bath toys that she's had since she was a newborn -- and she'll play endlessly with them and protest to high heaven when I've had enough and lift her out of the wee tub.
Of course, when I announce breakfast with gaga and ahah, she forgets about the bath and focuses her attention on the pleasures before her.
These days I give her a choice for breakfast and today she proclaims that she wants what I'm having: oatmeal with fruit and honey and yogurt.
Ahah open this honey!
Ask him nicely...
Please!
She sees that my fruit bowl has mango in it. Mango and more mango becomes a repeated theme today.
But most of all, like me, Snowdrop loves just that touch of honey on a clump of oatmeal.
Loves it, too, because it's special. Whatever she has at home, it's not this. Mmmm -- that last drop of Wisconsin honey!
There isn't much time for play -- I have to return her home by 10, but she gives it a good try!
Toy macaron cookies!
And now it's time to put on your jacket. Race you to the car!
In the afternoon, Ed and I want to walk. But where? Our own courtyard and driveway are so muddy that it's almost impossible to make it from the car to the door without sinking into dark wet soil. The wood chips we dutifully lay down each year are no match for springlike thaws. It's likely that all trails will be equally wet.
We head out to the Picnic Point and pick up a rather well traveled and partly graveled path that takes you out on a slip of land that juts out into our largest lake.
It's muddy, but more or less walkable. It feels good to be outside, even though the views right now are rather somber.
The sky remains gray. I mean, everything remains gray!
The lake appears to be melting, at least around the edges. I suppose there's an artsy feel to the ice bricks...
...but honestly, the walk is more memorable for the good air and the limbering up that we get, rather than for the views around us.
In the evening, Snowdrop and her mommy are at the farmhouse for dinner.
At first, the little girl is full of bounce and her usual radiant happiness.
But slowly, a bug takes hold and by the end of the evening, Snowdrop just needs to snuggle.
To a good next week! For Snowdrop. For you. For all of us.
