Yes, Clare likes to talk. A lot. And she begins each phrase with, "Hey, Mommy?" I document this because I know that approximately seven years from now I will ache for her to say that phrase just once a week, and to talk to me just once a day. And really, how many more years do I have where she is dying for me to turn the jump rope for her, even for just a few minutes? Too soon she'll be texting her friends while experimenting with make-up and hair styles, all behind her closed bedroom door.
Yes, Danny can be whiny. And I get so very tired of reminding him each and every morning, when he asks for his milk and Life, that he needs to say "please" when he asks. And yet for every whiny, manner-less moment there's an exultant whoop over a song he likes or a proposed outing with one of his "best friends." Too soon he'll be a strong, independent young man who doesn't need me to get him anything, and for whom a kiss and a story on the couch does not make boo-boos better.
Two days felt like such an interminable amount of time, and now I can't help feeling that I squandered valuable moments. I guess I'm only human. I'm still going to bed immensely relieved that their schools will be open tomorrow.
They better give me grandchildren, because I want my do-overs.
(The pictures at right show the exciting array of activities we engaged in today. The second-to-bottom shows Danny dancing to "Riverdance," his new favorite album, while the bottom photo shows them cleaning up the playroom before we ventured out for the day. We did wind up playing with friends later in the day, making it a much more fun day than I originally anticipated when taking these mundane shots.)
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