A day in the life
My oldest daughter, A (two and a half), has a pet. He's small (although large for his species), black, and lives in our carpet. He doesn't have a name. He's an ant. A likes to pick him up, set him on her little arm, and giggle while he runs around on her. Watching from the couch, I have to say it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.
Yes, motherhood does strange, strange things to the brain.
Not as strange as toddlerhood does, though. When she's not playing with her little friend, A keeps him in the fridge of her play kitchen, along with the train engine from her train set. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, when she comes downstairs to get her ant and finds he's run off.
My other two children, N and M, at just over three months old, are finally starting to notice the world around them, including their big sister. It's really fun to watch them watch her with the kind of attention they usually reserve for their feedings. N gets especially excited, growling and moaning and waving his little fists in the air. And yes, I said growling. Have you ever watched a TV show where they have a dog that talks? And the dog has this deep growling way of talking? That's what my little man sounds like when he gets going. M, my youngest daughter, on the other hand, has the most absurdly high-pitched little voice.
If you rearrange the first letters of my children's names, you get NAM. Or MAN.
Yes, motherhood does strange, strange things to the brain.
Not as strange as toddlerhood does, though. When she's not playing with her little friend, A keeps him in the fridge of her play kitchen, along with the train engine from her train set. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, when she comes downstairs to get her ant and finds he's run off.
My other two children, N and M, at just over three months old, are finally starting to notice the world around them, including their big sister. It's really fun to watch them watch her with the kind of attention they usually reserve for their feedings. N gets especially excited, growling and moaning and waving his little fists in the air. And yes, I said growling. Have you ever watched a TV show where they have a dog that talks? And the dog has this deep growling way of talking? That's what my little man sounds like when he gets going. M, my youngest daughter, on the other hand, has the most absurdly high-pitched little voice.
If you rearrange the first letters of my children's names, you get NAM. Or MAN.