We just recently had a fun-filled day at Topstone park. I sipped soda and basked in a beach chair, making sure to get up periodically before any volunteers came to rescue me (because I might be mistaken for a beached whale), while the kids splashed with their cousins in the lake water and dug castles in the sand.
Xander went out twice in a kayak to paddle around, feeling proud and confident to be so independent. Meanwhile Guy tried the paddleboat with Grandma and Zoe shouted directions from the helm of my canoe.
Guy got a kick out of tetherball, but hands-down his favorite pursuit was catching sunfish, frogs, and salamanders with a big fishing net in the shallows.
As we piled into the car after a long, fun day, Guy declared, "There's a bug on my leg! It's stuck to me and I can't get it off!"
From the safety of the front seat I indulged in pulling a horrified expression, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles and releasing a silent scream of disgust, after which I quickly transformed to my serene facade and turned around. "No problem. It's probably just a little leech or tick." (Insert comforting smile) "Maybe Grandma can look at it."
Hooray for Grandma! She doesn't even have to pretend not to be grossed out, she truly thinks these things are interesting. She reached back and pulled the leech off (it was only 1/2 inch long) and showed it to Guy before flicking it out the window. "Oh, I wish I hadn't done THAT," she reflected. "We should have saved it so we could look at the mouth parts under a microscope at home!" Okay, I do agree that THAT would have been interesting.
I sort of laughed, thinking I should have saved it and put it in a baby book. "Baby's First Leech" would be the entry. Then I came to my senses and realized that I stink at baby books.
With my first child, I filled out a baby book with a FEW details, and I took lots of photos that I printed and kept in a photo album (with no notes or scrap-booky details.) By the time my second came along, I still took photos, but they were digital and only a few of the best ever got printed. By the third, I was still clicking away with the digital camera, and only printing out the photos that are destined for the wall. But NOW, hurrah! The blog has become the all-new baby book. It works for me...stories, pictures, details. YES! Now child four will finally have a documented life. With maybe a few leeches.
From the safety of the front seat I indulged in pulling a horrified expression, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles and releasing a silent scream of disgust, after which I quickly transformed to my serene facade and turned around. "No problem. It's probably just a little leech or tick." (Insert comforting smile) "Maybe Grandma can look at it."
Hooray for Grandma! She doesn't even have to pretend not to be grossed out, she truly thinks these things are interesting. She reached back and pulled the leech off (it was only 1/2 inch long) and showed it to Guy before flicking it out the window. "Oh, I wish I hadn't done THAT," she reflected. "We should have saved it so we could look at the mouth parts under a microscope at home!" Okay, I do agree that THAT would have been interesting.
I sort of laughed, thinking I should have saved it and put it in a baby book. "Baby's First Leech" would be the entry. Then I came to my senses and realized that I stink at baby books.
With my first child, I filled out a baby book with a FEW details, and I took lots of photos that I printed and kept in a photo album (with no notes or scrap-booky details.) By the time my second came along, I still took photos, but they were digital and only a few of the best ever got printed. By the third, I was still clicking away with the digital camera, and only printing out the photos that are destined for the wall. But NOW, hurrah! The blog has become the all-new baby book. It works for me...stories, pictures, details. YES! Now child four will finally have a documented life. With maybe a few leeches.
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