Thursday, September 30, 2010
My Grammy, wonderful as ever, sent a package in the mail.
A package just for Charles.
Completely unexpected and so very thoughtful.
Eleanore gets little cards and notes in the mail all the time (which we all love), but Charlie... well sometimes I hand him a credit card offer and make up a story about how it came specially for him, and how hes now the King of Mars.
He believes me, like any other almost-two-year-old would, but- its just not the same as really being King of Mars, ya know?
I wish you were really the King of Mars Charlie!
Mommy wishes she could give that to you.
Ok right, so anyways-
I need out of the house, huh?
Look at what my Grammy made for him?
She made him an entire little fabric town! Alright, so I only took a picture of the bakery, which I didn't realize until after I had uploaded everything, but- there is a farm, an airport, parking lots, roads, train tracks... and its all fabric!!
She also sent some fun little cars and trucks and planes and things- that my Grandpa had picked out. And apparently he had wayyy too much fun doing so.
So there I am, driving my cement truck to the bakery, talking about how "we need to buy almond butter cookies, and they have gluten free doughnuts, and OH! They have a discount section!", when...
Charlie STOMPS my doughnut dreams into the floorboards beneath the town.
And then, he starts driving on me.
The Mommy Highway.
Take a hard left to Baby Ville.
Get ready for it, Evelyn.
I think her face says it all.
But even with her "Seriously?" looks, and body language, a cement truck has to do, what a cement truck has to do.
And it just so happens that on this day, during this playtime, the cement truck had to park on Evelyn's tummy.
Your brother makes the rules when we're playing cars.
Mommy has no say.
So he laughs and giggles and takes full advantage of the fact that his older sister is still in time out in her bedroom upstairs.
Nobody to invade his space.
Nobody to spoil his fun.
Nobody to steal his cars.
He picks up this car, that car, five cars at once.
Drops them to the ground, just to see which wheels pop off and which ones don't.
The tractor, by the way, is in the "does" category.
He hoards his vehicles. Just like his Papa Frank.
Nobody will laugh at that, except for my Aunt Laurie.
My dad has like 9,000 junkers.
Charlie's favorite toy out of the bunch?
His new toy airplane of course.
But because he plays too rough with things...
The airplane crashed, mid flight, and lost a wing.
He picked it up.
"Uh oh! Uh oh plane! Uh oh!", he shouted.
He carried it to me, Uh Oh'd a few more times, and after I explained how we don't throw our toys because they can break, and we can't always fix them, he parked his cute overall coated butt on the play mat next to the art easel, and attempted to fix the plane himself.
Look past his blurry toes, to the determination on his face.
He will fix that plane, he must have assured himself.
But just like Mommy had said...
Not everything can be fixed.
Even if it is a brand new toy airplane sent all the way from California.
But wait a minute!!
We've still got the cement truck!!
And the tractor, and the school bus, and all of your other cars and trucks- don't forget about those.
Well, the ones that your sister hasn't hidden from you, at least.
Check inside of the shoe basket.
Playtime with your new town blanket sure was fun Charlie, but you're on your own now. Its time for Evelyn to eat.
Maybe cement truck needs to refuel too?
This blog post was brought to you by the Boppy pillow on my lap supporting the sleeping baby wrapped up in the warmest blanket in the house (please stay asleep long enough for me to respond to some emails), and the children halfway-napping upstairs.