A little over a week ago, the four of us went out to dinner at Julie's Place, deploying the usual art supplies to distract T. while waiting for our food to arrive. While I thought I had cleared everything up before leaving, I somehow missed the Mickey Mouse scrapbooking punch. I eventually called the restaurant about a week later and asked about it, but it's a scrapbooking punch. Explaining one of those is not easy, even to someone who has used one. Yesterday, T. and I went back there for waffle and soup and in person I was able to supply enough detail that it was found. Small parenting victories. This one mattered mostly because it appears to not be sold through the Disney Store, so a replacement would have involved a call to the resort and hope it wasn't sold out and discontinued. T. might or might not have ever cared, but I kinda did; it's fun to play with.
A lot of T.'s snow clothes came off on that ride, and we later went to the bank and the toy store in Concord. That is a great shop for spending time in; it is a terrible place to try to do an in-and-out. They have a fairly large gauge railroad running on an elevated track, and that's in addition to the wooden train table and the Wow activity table. And the quadrilla setup. You get the idea. T. wanted some Star Wars legos, but it wasn't that long ago that he was swallowing small plastic items at the preschool. I'm going to wait a bit before we risk that.
Crazy is as Crazy Does
Yesterday's bike pickup was interesting. T. really didn't want to ride the bike and produced words to that effect. With vehemence. B. had called in sick and R. had taken a half day and was sleeping with A. -- unresponsive to a phone call to try to be rescued. I asked T. if he wanted to walk, and that was okay with him. This time, I stuck very closely to sidewalks and crosswalks. T. has gotten very good at school lately about holding hands with his partner when the kids are all walking to the gym, and after a little bit, he started holding the bike handle. He switched from my handle to one of his handles when he realized it wasn't comfortable reaching up that far and trying to walk under my outstretched arm. A little while after that, he reached for his helmet in the basket and tried to climb on the bike. That doesn't work great in snow pants -- he needs some help mounting. Off we went.
Last night it snowed, so R. drove him in. The snow pants were still in my car from our outing the previous day, so I rode the bike in by myself to deliver the pants. The road was wet with puddles but no ice or snow or even much slush. The sidewalks hadn't even been plowed because it was so little snow; I didn't try to ride on them or in our driveway. It was uneventful, but I went slow because anything over 10 mph at this temperature makes my eyeballs hurt. Or something in that general area, at any rate.