These Are the Days....

Yesterday, as most people in my area were contemplating building an ark in case the rain never stopped, I decided the best possible thing to do was load up my children and head to the mall playground.

Two factors encouraged this slightly delusional thinking:

1. The play date had been planned in advance...prior to the rain...and it was with Alison, Morgan, and Madeline. We will drive just about anywhere to hang with those three.

2. The conversation at my breakfast table that morning sounded something like this:

Evelyn: "Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada....."

Isaac: "Daddy is not here, Babyevin. Daddy is at work. My name is Isaac. My name is not Daddy."

This conversation lasted a solid ten minutes, thus making the idea of potentially having to row my car down the local highways in search of real adult interaction seem quite reasonable.

The last time Alison and I visited this particular mall together, we only had one child between the two of us and that child was just a mere little speck of a baby chillin' in Alison's tummy. We likely discussed all things baby on that particular outing, spending no less than an hour "oohing" over every stitch of bedding at Pottery Barn Kids, and looking longingly at the mommies pushing sweet bundles of joy around in strollers.

This trip there were four kids between the two of us, making the adults quickly outnumbered by the children. I do not believe one single conversation was completed. Pottery Barn was passed by in a blur (we did manage to gaze longingly at a white couch knowing it was not in either of our futures for at least 15 years) as we tried to wrangle the preschoolers who insisted on walking (holding hands) ever so slowly and push the babies were in strollers (although Evelyn would quite have preferred crawling after the big kids). The table at lunch was a hodgepodge of sippy cups, french fries, baby food containers, napkins, toys, and chicken nuggets. There wasn't an elegant plate of chicken salad and fruit to be found, nor any tall cold glasses of sweet iced tea.

Although these dates can be hectic and I feared we might have to swim home after the date, such outings are always fun. There will come a day...much too quickly...when Isaac isn't so keen on running up to "Miss A-son" and giving her a giant hug and Morgan does not ever-so-sweetly try to convince me to let her ride the carousal despite the fact her mother told her "no." They certainly won't want to hold hands proudly as the walk through the food court in a few years. Too soon Isaac would like choose death over being caught anywhere near a mall with five females he is related/fake related to and all the girls will likely want Alison and I to stay a minimum of 30 feet behind them at all times (expect at the cash register).

Sigh.

***

Every evening after supper our family of four hangs out together in the living room for some quality family time until bath time arrives. Tonight we were goofing around and Isaac looked at my leg. Quite seriously he said, "Oh, Mommy, you have cimmamon (cinnamon) on your leg." I attempted to explain freckles but he became distracted by something more interesting than another boring lesson from Mom.

***

In an attempt to entertain Isaac (who was antsy as a bug) this morning while I cleaned, I filled up our kitchen sink with water and bubbles, gave him an assortment of measuring cups, and let him be. The child played in that water for over an hour and was reluctant to see his precious bubbles drain down the sink. I highly suggest this activity, yet recommend it on a day you are planning on mopping anyway. Although it proved to be quite the engaging activity, it was a huge mess to clean up afterwards.

***

The other night I went in to check on Isaac before I retired for the evening. I entered his room, gave my eyes a chance to focus, and then approached his bed. Not seeing him initially (the child sleeps with a small army of pillows, blankets, and animals), I began gently patting around the bed to find his little body. Nothing. Before allowing myself to panic over a potential kidnapping situation, I turned the light on low (another reason everyone should have a dimmer switch on their kid's lights!) and this is what I found:

He was sound asleep on his floor. He never woke up while I took the picture or placed him back in his bed. Silly boy.