This winter has been as great as winter can be for the kids. They’ve done a great job at hibernating: constantly playing the Sneaky, Snacky, Squirrel Game until someone cried (twenty minutes), building magna tile castles in every room of the house, watching a huge amount of TV and movies (it feels so good! How could you turn down Trolls)? The kids even resorted to begging to run errands. Bryce, not one to chat about his feelings, would respond immediately after being asked if he wanted to go outside with “shoes” “coat” and be standing by the door in 30 seconds without either, ready to roll.
Bryce has been talking so much better! The other day, trying to passionately insist that Mommy put him to bed, he covered his heart and said “MOMMY….PUT….. BED”. Got it, buddy! I was so excited to hear him say put in a 3 word string (WITH A VERB) that I nearly fainted. He is so sweet that sometimes I forget that he is a two year old boy, and am reminded when he doesn’t listen, lays on the ground, stomps his feet, hides in the closet, screams “AWAY! ALONE!” which really sound like “WAY! LONE!” ... all when he doesn’t get what he wants.
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| The Majestic Diner (gluten free diner we've been going to since Gilly got diagnosed with Celiac) |
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| How about those Pats? |
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| Chad and Glenna finding common ground |
Bryce is still **a teeny bit** attached to mommy. Example? Sometimes
you’ll hear him sitting somewhere by himself saying, “Mommy…. Bryce. Mommy…. Bryce” on repeat. What could be
better? If I could fit this cuddly
little mama’s boy in a baby bjorn, I’d stuff him right in there and take him
out in a few years for kindergarten. Then I’d put on camo gear and head to the bushes where I’d
watch him all day to try to soak in the sweetness.
My big girl Gillian is so … big! She has been very busy
running a full service orphanage, stocked with baby dolls of every shape and
size, all of which she would try to feed, bottle, diaper and bathe if their
body types allowed it. They are now all sleeping on a well disguised
shoe rack after I couldn’t take the sight of them piled on top of one another
in Gillian’s toy kitchen oven. #disturbing.
For her birthday, she has requested even more babies, complete with a
potty from Grandma, that Gillian has told me is currently being made in London.
I don’t ask questions.
Gillian’s birthday festivities just ended, so I will follow up
with a post that is full of sap, omitting all the moments this past year when Gillian
pushed me so far to the brink that only wine could save me.
xoxo
