A cooler gray day. Not exactly perfect vacation weather, but the fact is, we don't want to head out into the parks or test our skills at navigating trails with a toddler anyway. The bugs would eat us alive!
Snowdrop, my farmette granddaughter, wakes up early. Too early! Too eager to be up and about!
Well fine. She is a frequent houseguest here Sunday mornings. The routines are familiar: the first breakfast of cereal (with a pretense of milk -- that girl is never thirsty for it)...
A bath, still in the kitchen sink, though I swear, we have to break that habit! She does not easily fit into a baby tub!
This then is my Sunday morning, in what is quickly moving into late summer.
And here's an interesting fact, which I can now insert here, as I am writing the post late in the evening: I stepped out of the farmhouse only once today: for a few secs, to demonstrate to a visiting friend the ridiculousness of giving cheepers bread.
The bugs really make reluctant adventurers of us all.
After Snowdrop bathes, I very much want her to lose herself in independent play. But Snowdrop is feeling in need of Gaga company, at the same time that I must throw a second breakfast together -- one that will include a work buddy of Ed's who is in town this weekend.
I do the unpardonable: I offer her music on youtube, accompanied by cartoonish reenactments. Songs that she seems quite familiar with from school. Second day of vacation and I'm already plunking the girl down in front of a screen.
Ah well... She is happy to listen to the familiar ditties and delighted by the cartoons -- black sheep dancing with three bags of wool -- that kind of stuff.
Breakfast is ready and it's obvious that the girl is hungry. She climbs up on the stool and reaches for the bacon before I even deliver it to the table...
And she dives into her pancakes and fruits and listens curiously to the shop talk of two guys who love machines.
(Happily satiated.)
I can see that the rest of the morning will need some creative intervention. Ed is understandably preoccupied, but his distraction adds to the girl's (unusual for her) indecision as to how to proceed with her play.
I set up the pool on the porch. Ed and his pal fill it with buckets of water.
She is delighted and rewards us all with a long period of story telling and creative shenanigans in this small little pool which surely must seem farcical to her now that she goes so regularly to Madison's huge community pool.
Inside again, she blends her new stuff with her old favorites: the new toy gaga is taking the new toy baby (which is little more than a twig wrapped in felt) to the old Duplo zoo!
And here's a cool thing: whenever I introduce something new for her, she always takes the time to play with something very old, from her earlier years.
Lunch: mac and cheese!
Followed by several books...
And nap time. I try my hand at napping too -- I've had way too many wakeful nights lately -- but I'm not good at naps at all. In some domains, Snowdrop has greater skill sets than I do.
And after -- she comes downstairs and finds Ed snacking on an ancient reheated croissant. With jam. She is ridiculously in love with this snack idea.
When I had first learned that Snowdrop would be with us these August days, I felt sure that we would be able to try our hand at backyard camping. And of course, in recent weeks, it became clear that the mosquitoes would not leave us alone. Perhaps to ease my own frustration with this, I picked up a play tent for indoor play. This afternoon, Ed set it up for her.
On the upside, she loves it!
On the downside, she loves it especially much when I am in there with her.
Well okay, little girl, but only for a few minutes.
Dinner. We make pizza!
Or, I do. She eats handfuls of cheese.
Okay, we're ready!
Ed, we're ready! (Getting him to not catch the end of 60 Minutes is a challenge every Sunday.)
Watermelon for dessert, eaten indoors now. (She devours way too much! Way too much! Hers, his, more of hers, always down to the green rind...)
As I tidy up, we flick on a PBS nature show on mommy animals in the wild. A show that truly was filmed to hit every chord in Snowdrop's little heart.
It's amazing that I can tear her away, read the two chosen books and tuck her in for the night with a hug and a kiss.
We are in for a string of chaotic days and weeks. We all need our rest. Hey, do you suppose I'm not sleeping well at night because we're in for a string of chaotic days and weeks? Now there's a clever diagnosis! To bed now! Sleep? I'll give it a shot, but I offer no guarantees.
Snowdrop, my farmette granddaughter, wakes up early. Too early! Too eager to be up and about!
Well fine. She is a frequent houseguest here Sunday mornings. The routines are familiar: the first breakfast of cereal (with a pretense of milk -- that girl is never thirsty for it)...
A bath, still in the kitchen sink, though I swear, we have to break that habit! She does not easily fit into a baby tub!
This then is my Sunday morning, in what is quickly moving into late summer.
And here's an interesting fact, which I can now insert here, as I am writing the post late in the evening: I stepped out of the farmhouse only once today: for a few secs, to demonstrate to a visiting friend the ridiculousness of giving cheepers bread.
The bugs really make reluctant adventurers of us all.
After Snowdrop bathes, I very much want her to lose herself in independent play. But Snowdrop is feeling in need of Gaga company, at the same time that I must throw a second breakfast together -- one that will include a work buddy of Ed's who is in town this weekend.
I do the unpardonable: I offer her music on youtube, accompanied by cartoonish reenactments. Songs that she seems quite familiar with from school. Second day of vacation and I'm already plunking the girl down in front of a screen.
Ah well... She is happy to listen to the familiar ditties and delighted by the cartoons -- black sheep dancing with three bags of wool -- that kind of stuff.
Breakfast is ready and it's obvious that the girl is hungry. She climbs up on the stool and reaches for the bacon before I even deliver it to the table...
And she dives into her pancakes and fruits and listens curiously to the shop talk of two guys who love machines.
(Happily satiated.)
I can see that the rest of the morning will need some creative intervention. Ed is understandably preoccupied, but his distraction adds to the girl's (unusual for her) indecision as to how to proceed with her play.
I set up the pool on the porch. Ed and his pal fill it with buckets of water.
She is delighted and rewards us all with a long period of story telling and creative shenanigans in this small little pool which surely must seem farcical to her now that she goes so regularly to Madison's huge community pool.
Inside again, she blends her new stuff with her old favorites: the new toy gaga is taking the new toy baby (which is little more than a twig wrapped in felt) to the old Duplo zoo!
And here's a cool thing: whenever I introduce something new for her, she always takes the time to play with something very old, from her earlier years.
Lunch: mac and cheese!
Followed by several books...
And nap time. I try my hand at napping too -- I've had way too many wakeful nights lately -- but I'm not good at naps at all. In some domains, Snowdrop has greater skill sets than I do.
And after -- she comes downstairs and finds Ed snacking on an ancient reheated croissant. With jam. She is ridiculously in love with this snack idea.
When I had first learned that Snowdrop would be with us these August days, I felt sure that we would be able to try our hand at backyard camping. And of course, in recent weeks, it became clear that the mosquitoes would not leave us alone. Perhaps to ease my own frustration with this, I picked up a play tent for indoor play. This afternoon, Ed set it up for her.
On the upside, she loves it!
On the downside, she loves it especially much when I am in there with her.
Well okay, little girl, but only for a few minutes.
Dinner. We make pizza!
Or, I do. She eats handfuls of cheese.
Okay, we're ready!
Ed, we're ready! (Getting him to not catch the end of 60 Minutes is a challenge every Sunday.)
Watermelon for dessert, eaten indoors now. (She devours way too much! Way too much! Hers, his, more of hers, always down to the green rind...)
As I tidy up, we flick on a PBS nature show on mommy animals in the wild. A show that truly was filmed to hit every chord in Snowdrop's little heart.
It's amazing that I can tear her away, read the two chosen books and tuck her in for the night with a hug and a kiss.
We are in for a string of chaotic days and weeks. We all need our rest. Hey, do you suppose I'm not sleeping well at night because we're in for a string of chaotic days and weeks? Now there's a clever diagnosis! To bed now! Sleep? I'll give it a shot, but I offer no guarantees.
