holiday Sunday

The kids are spending the holiday weekend with us here at the farmhouse.

That is a very ordinary statement, no? Kids, with grandparents, at the farm, for the holiday. It happens in a million homes. But I'm going to bet that in each of those homes, it's a big event. Of course, we have the two tykes (Snowdrop and Sparrow) here a lot. Daily, in fact. Still, having young energy in the house, round the clock, for several days -- that's different. We need to get ready!

I always think about these visits way in advance. What will they eat? Where will they play. What books should I make available? And I smile at the ridiculousness of such planning. My grandmother had us over at her place for entire summers (and year round when we were very young). She didn't worry about entertaining us, of course. She worried about keeping us clean and fed, period. That was enough of a challenge.

It's different now. I'm sure when I was a toddler, I was placed in a playpen and from there I watched the world spin its crazy dance. In the winters, we all huddled in the village kitchen. There was no heat in the rest of the house. Days were dark and I can't help but think that I must have napped a lot.

None of these are my worries. I want the kids to have fun and not bang their heads on hard surfaces. Eating well is easy these days (this isn't postwar Poland in the boonies). Keeping warm? Not a problem either.



I spend the morning finishing up farmette chores. This includes putting in more stones by the path to the door -- to keep those blasted cheepers from scratching mud and chips around -- and putting in a couple of more little pots to make it all look pretty and colorful. Stop Sign horned in on the picture. She is, as always, begging for more food.






We eat breakfast on the porch!






A few more hasty tasks, a glance at the garden... (oh, that lilac!)






(You think roosters crow only at daybreak? Not so. Happy crows all the time!)






(the Big Bed and the now green crabs...)






... And I'm off to pick up the little ones!



If we had a weekend of good weather, I'd be a little more laid back about how to treat the afternoon with the kids. But looking ahead to days of storms makes me think -- I've got to pack in all outdoor stuff now!

Wouldn't it be a fine idea to take the awesome twosome to their neighborhood swimming pool? Snowdrop has tried it with her parents, but Sparrow hasn't. He likes baths. He'll love splashing about with his big sister.

It's an interesting set of minutes: I'm used to dealing with one toddler and the public changing rooms and showers of a community pool. With two -- well, there's more stuff to attend to. Still, Snowdrop is pretty self sufficient. The kids are ready!

Wait, one more thing. Let me pump some sun screen lotion onto the little guy. He is more fair than Snowdrop. I slather on a lot!

My, it's awfully sticky stuff! I can't seem to rub it in. I take a second look at the container. Oops! It's not sun screen, it's soap for after swim use! Sparrow, we're going to need to shower. A lot.

An inauspicious beginning and it goes downhill for him after that. It's too bright, too wet, too weird. Had I brought my own swim stuff, we may have romped together just fine, but I was in shorts and so the little guy could not benefit from a Gaga water hug. Sitting alone in the shallows? Nope. Not this time.






Sitting on my lap and watching his sister? That works!












Making sure both kids are showered and dressed is an interesting challenge. Sparrow is the size of a two year old even as he has the mobility of his true age (just under one). But we manage! And back at the farmhouse, we all spend a good hour on the porch playing, as the cats roam and Ed works hard to fix the shocks on my car.


 








Dinner! On the porch! Pizza and asparagus (and salad for the truly big guys)! It's such a gorgeous evening. Why oh why do we have to get more rain in the days and weeks ahead of us?











Inside again I watch the two kids engage in parallel play.






Sometimes their games intersect and that's just lovely to watch.





Near sunset, Ed announces he's about to put away the cheepers. Snowdrop is like a bolt of lightening! Shoes on, out she goes with him. Sparrow and I slowly follow.

It's a good time for me to once again get him used to the feel of grass, twigs, dandelions and spent willow leaves. I remember when Snowdrop was his age -- I so wanted her to love the outdoors and I was worried when she didn't immediately respond with joy at being placed on the ground. Her hesitancy passed so very quickly. Now, she is completely at one with the farmette lands. Sparrow will get there. But today, he is still tentative.






(Not so his big sister.)






The sun is setting. She is the wanderer, the explorer, the story teller.











Inside again. no one wants to go to bed. What a surprise. I bargain. One (ten minute) Angelina video, okay, Snowdrop?





I don't know how I ever got them up to their room and sleeping (Snowdrop insisted that she wanted Sparrow to stay in her teeny tiny room), but in fact, after a while, Snowdrop stopped coming out to ask one more question and all has been quiet.

Ed comes back from Walmart errands. We munch on pop corn and talk about goats.