Small Things 1-28-13
1. A friend’s birthday party yesterday, and Hen had the time of his life. “This was a REALLY good day!” he exclaimed over & over again for the rest of the afternoon & evening. Also? His friend’s grammy–at whose house the party was held– has a goat, a miniature goat, who gave birth WAY out of season to two babies on Thursday. So these brand new, teensy-tiny baby goats who are living in her coatroom with their momma in a big old dog kennel? The cute was not to be believed.
Infant humans may not make me want more kids, but baby goats definitely make me want to raise goats again.
2. I don’t know where he’s picked this one up, but most mornings this week, Hen’s been telling me he wants to go visit “all the boys & girls who live in the basement.” so he can talk to them and tell them all about his day.
How nice that he has such an active imagination! How nice that he wants to be so kind and sociable to his imaginary friends who live in our basement!
Ahem.
(Anyone else flashing back to every awful horror movie they’ve ever seen where the protag walks down into the cellar & zombie hands break through the floor to clutch at their ankles as they’re trying desperately to claw their way back up the stairs & into the light of rational day? What if this used to be one of those scary farms that used indentured child labor back in the day and just buried them in the cellar when they got too troublesome, eh?
And yeah, our basement has a cement floor, but why is that, exactly?)
Oi. Kids. Where do they come up with Mommy’s exact phobias to play with, eh? Ghosts in the basement. Worse than radon.
3. The water lines into our washing machine froze. It’s really quite too cold these days, ok?
4. Henry graduated from using water bottles with attached, soft, silicone straws to real cups with lids & straws, and he likes being a big boy so much that I can’t keep him in dry diapers.
Yay for healthy water-drinking habits, but boo for having to move him up to the next size.
(And on that note, one of the dads at the birthday party yesterday wanted to know if Hen was three or four.
Two, people. He’s only two. Even if he is going to be wearing size six diapers next time I go to the store.)
5. I went to sleep early last night and it was really quite wonderful to be wide awake when it was time to get up this morning. Also? Having a rational kid who knows (and is starting to really understand) that I don’t care if he plays alone in his room in the wee hours of the morning, but that he can’t come to get me til 6:45 (or slam his door, or run water in the bathroom, or yell at the cat) is also quite wonderful.





Ahhh, ghosts in the basement! This sounds like something I would come up with.
My kids every now and then play with an imaginary little boy named Johnny. My oldest daughter told me that Johnny said I was his mommy, too. That they were the same age but he said that he was still older than her. The freaky thing is, we had a miscarriage a few months before we conceived her. A grandfather’s name is John, so that was always a consideration for a boy’s name. Cue freak-out from me, lol. We miscarried long before finding out if the baby was a boy or girl. And my girls are only 3 and 5, so they don’t know anything about it. But weird, yes?
Self-control to get through the wee morning hours = awesome! Very cool imagination about the kids in the basement but sorry for the horror movie trigger. Henry is getting to be a big boy! Would love to see any pictures you’ve taken recently.