Wednesday, July 22, 2009
today I...
discovered that I could sit in the car at the skate park and knit, while the big boys skated and the little one slept. How cool is that? The only thing missing was a cup of tea. Now, if I could just rig up a cigarette lighter adaptor for my sewing machine...
Monday, July 13, 2009
mr busy
this boy, he's so very busy. Always doing something. I hear those little feet pattering along on the floorboards and I think, here he comes, the mischief maker. I can tell straight away which boy it is, just by the sound of his footsteps. There's fin, with his slow and steady walk, like that of an adult, almost. Nearly nine now, a big boy. Then there's willow, usually ambling along on all fours, planet of the apes style. Always the entertainer. And then there's jasper, running along. Fast little close together steps that say "here I come".he's a climber, this boy. Maybe it's from being surrounded by so many people who are much bigger than him, but he always has to be standing on something, seeing what's going on up there. He will climb on anything, and if there is nothing to climb on, he will go and get something and drag it over so he can climb up. Always the high chair, dragging along on the floorboards and making that lovely squeaky sound. Music to my ears.
always looking, touching, pointing, talking. So determined to do things on his own. Ah, boy number three, so much to learn from so many teachers.
fortunately, big days make for big sleeps. We're still in the blissful stage of the afternoon nap, something his brothers had long given up by this stage. Sometimes people ask me how I manage to get any sewing at all done, well this is how. In little two-hourly blocks, every so often. And I have learnt that the sound of his little cry means scissors down, until next time. Because it will still be there tomorrow. There's no hurry.
fortunately, big days make for big sleeps. We're still in the blissful stage of the afternoon nap, something his brothers had long given up by this stage. Sometimes people ask me how I manage to get any sewing at all done, well this is how. In little two-hourly blocks, every so often. And I have learnt that the sound of his little cry means scissors down, until next time. Because it will still be there tomorrow. There's no hurry.
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