And I finished, very surprised, "Than a man swear he loves me? That's Beatrice to Benedick, Nat. From Shakespeare."
But what I want to remember are things like, Thomas and Elizabeth aren't dearest friends anymore, but Nat and Thomas are, at least some of the time. And Elizabeth and Miriam are both playing weird intense complicated dramas all over the house with the sets of animals, not with the dolls. Miriam had two dinosaurs having this big argument about types of diapers and whether anyone smelled this afternoon. And Thomas is starting to be magnetically attracted to me if I open a book. Thomas is talking at whichever adult is closest in long monologues broken by occasional checks to see if the adult is still listening, which kind of makes me crazy, but I'm glad he's talking, I guess. And he has given up on planning picnics and spent the whole day telling us Santa is going to leave him a puppy in his stocking next year. Nope.
The girls are almost reliable when we're out. Yesterday I took them all to the Science Centre for several hours and kept marveling, over and over, at how the girls would be within eyesight (usually), and would come back to me as though they were on an invisible leash. I still have trauma from chasing Thomas as he bolted over and over, back when he was three, and watching the girls not run away is a wonderful thing.
It was a bad idea to let Mim watch The Avengers and then take her somewhere with a giant blue whale skeleton, though. It looked remarkably like one of the nightmare creatures the alien thingys were riding.
|Science Centre music pipes|
No one has recently painted the kitchen with butter, but all the kids can now get into the fridge, which is terrible. And Miriam recently climbed, we think, straight up six foot shelves so she could get a snow globe down. She smashed it all over a lot of toys, just as I was putting lunch on the table. We will eventually forgive her. It was of course made of glass. She's so tiny that I forget that she's almost three and absolutely crazy. She still feels sort of like a baby, except psychotic.
If I ask all the children to get their boots and coats on to go out, the girls are usually ready and blinking up at me way before I've persuaded Thomas that he needs pants and Nathaniel that a sweater is not warm enough if we're going out in -10C. So this is proof that girls are more than together than boys. Okay, my girls. Okay, my girls at this specific stage. And except for snow globes. Sigh.