Here are two kids who don’t mind a bit that it’s raining on Halloween.
Day = Made
Maggie re: rain. “We’re going to have a perfect day. This is a really good day, right?”
Maggie is wearing her hipster shirt. It’s ironic.
Can I just say that reading to my children is NOTHING like the peaceful cuddly time I pictured pre-parenthood? They must question and/or discuss virtually every sentence, phrase and word, and it’s very frustrating to my mental image of what reading time should be like. Ha
Catching snippets of Maggie’s imaginary play with her Littlest Pet Shop toys:
Let’s get some shut eye.
It’s ok darlin’
[hums a line of the Hallelujah Chorus]
Ok, let’s get some shut eye.
Let it go. Let it goooooo.
Later
Callie-ho!
[lots of humming]
Maggie: I feel like I’m the main girl in this whole world.
[she says variations of this every few days.]
Tommy: can dogs understand us?
[feeling like I’m walking into a trap] uh. Yes?
Then how come we can’t understand them?
Maggie lost her first tooth tonight. It was traumatic. Also, she *lost* the tooth. It was there and then it wasn’t. It fell out AND she lost it.
Morning update: all better. To all indications, she is reconciled to the new gap and even let me take a picture of her updated smile.
The Tooth Fairy left her a note saying she had located and collected the missing tooth. Since Maggie doesn’t believe in the tooth fairy, she kept asking me what I did with it. That backfired.
Tommy: I do need some help. Mama, would you volunteer to help me? Thank you. You’re too sweet.
A Facebook friend posted a link to one of those “how did we survive childhood” posts. Sometimes they are funny so I read it. This particular list doesn’t really do it for me: quite a few of the items on here are still in production so as far as bashing-the-dangerous-80s goes, it feels like a miss. HOWEVER. It did remind me of a really funny story. Once my family was visiting our friends Steve and Patsy. They had older boys who had big kid toys. My little kid brothers found an awesome dart blow gun to play with. Inside. In a long, narrow hallway.
If I recall correctly, it was Brian’s turn to blow. Stevie waited down the hall in the bathroom. Brian took too long so Stevie stuck his head out of the bathroom to see what the hold up was and got a dart in the neck.
I must have been nearby because I feel like I saw the whole thing in slow motion, and I still vividly remember the dart hanging from the skin in his neck and the three of us debating what to do as it hung there. It pulled his skin out like a waddle every time one of us messed with it. We eventually got our mom and she pulled it out. It’s funny, but in retrospect, I’m sure we are all glad it wasn’t an eye.