Once, when Charles was small(er), I had a mantra that went something like, “Someday, he’ll be able to play on his own for five minutes – maybe more! – and I’ll be able to finish reading the paper/going to the bathroom/making dinner/brushing my teeth/etc.”
Friends, that day has finally arrived (though we don’t have too many of them, just a day here and there, I consider it progress):
Said progress toward “playing alone time” also includes significant mess-making. Here, it appears that he wanted to know what was on the bottom inside of the box.
Also! Do you know what just happened? We got our Tony back! For the first time in months, we lingered in our pajamas and ate breakfast as a family. Also, Tony was bedeviled by Charles’ curiosity about his guitar:
And then the neighbor kids all played light sabers (which made me think about how, if we have another boy, it will be all swords and trucks and guns and chasing and EXHAUSTION all the time*):
*Which is probably okay, considering the high quality of little boy kisses I get, and the amusing moments like when he sees a fire truck and screams “FIIIIIIIRE TRUUUUCK!” from the backseat, which sets him off on a yelling-out-every-truck/boat/tractor-I-see tangent until we get to our destination. God forbid his enthusiasm for life is every quashed.
No comments:
Post a Comment