He keeps growing-up on me.
Really I wouldn’t want it to be any other way, but some times I just want to hold him tight and slow him down a little.
All of last years clothes are two inches too short.
He is stopping and taking the time to figure things out. Matching numbers, recognizing letters, getting lost in his imaginary world.
Each morning he insists on making his own toast. The stool is pushed up to the counter. He bustles around the kitchen getting everything he will need~ knife, butter, bread, jam, plate. Carefully and slowly he spreads the butter and jam being sure to lick the knife in between applications
Lately when he comes running into the room saying “MOM! Come and see Eliza!” I’ve learned that it is prudent to immediately stop what I am doing and come see. That statement is code for “Come see what experiment I have conducted on my little sister!” She is usually covered in stuffed animals, or in an entirely different location than I left her in, or she has something strange on her head.
This morning we abandoned productivity completely and spend hours making and playing with play dough… and making a huge mess of the kitchen.
We all stayed in our p.j.s, ate bananas, toast and jam, and made all kinds of things out of salty dough. Can I just say~ I think that warm toast with butter and jam has to be one of life’s greatest pleasures.
Even Eliza got in on the action.
SALTY PLAYDOUGH RECIPE
1 c. flour
1 c. water
1/2 c. salt
2 t. cream of tartar
2T. of oil
1. Mix all ingredients in pot.
2. Cook over low heat until it forms a ball.
Store in a zip-lock bag.
Now I must go and play catch-up from a morning of leisurely play.