Baby Peter ... the 2nd

Sofia isn't much of a girly girl, certainly not when it comes to playing with dolls. She usually goes first for the trucks, robots, super heroe dress up, or any other type of typical boy toy. That's not to say she never plays with dolls, just not very regularly. I hadn't seen her play with the orphanage of naked baby dolls housed in her closet toy bin for quiet a while. So, I was very surprised to come out from Baby Peter's room after nursing him, changing him and putting him to sleep to find both Sofia and Marcelo maternally holding freshly dressed baby dolls, whome they were both calling "Peter".

Seeing the dolls neatly dressed in pajamas alone was enough for a double take. They looked very real. Then I realized they were dressed in real baby clothes (a gift of premie clothes I hadn't used that Sofia had apparantly discovered and helped herself to). She insisted on me letting her use baby Peter's new burp cloths I had made. Marcelo was equally --maternal. He was lovingly holding his "Baby Peter" and taking care of him.

So, so very cute.

Snow

I've been looking forward to the end of winter, feeling badly that the kids have been cooped up in the house pretty much hybernating with me and the pregnancy for months. I've also been feeling badly that as we got deeper into the hybernation/pregnancy, we resorted more and more to the babysitter/best friend/most exciting and placating companion ever invented, the TV, to take over the raising of our children. Yes, we pretty much handed them over and said, "Go ahead, you can make them happier than we can. We trust your G and even PG rating judgement. Do with them what you will. Just let me take a shower, pay some bills, and make some phone calls in peace and quietness without worrying about the toilet exploding".

Well it worked. Unfortunately, it also started turning their brains into mush mush with an attitude and a slightly aggresive side. So anyway, I can't tell you how delighted I was when the last bit of snow finally melted from our backyard so the kids could finally experience some fresh air and regain the muscle they surely must have lost in their legs. No more TV. OK, just 30-60 minutes a day of preselected educational shows only and maybe one movie per week.

So the hellish winds died down and it was finally a breeze-less, warm, jacket-allowing 50 degrees outside. Sofia and Marcelo got to go outside and play. They rode bikes, tricycles, motorized vehicles that I did not approve. They made drawings on the the cement with sidewalk chalk. They played in the playset. They collected twigs and rocks. And despite the fact that I had to pop my head out every five minutes and yell at them not to dive in the pond, play with the faucet, use chalk as missles, throw rocks and roll themselves on the ground, it was lovely, absolutely lovely to see them be able to play outside like children should.

So the next day, we woke up to a winter wonderland with over a foot of snow covering the freshly doggy poop-patrolled yard again.

I guess I shouldn't have asked her to look at me and smile when there is a giant sheet of reflective white stuff shining the sun back at your eyes.

Their lives are so hard.  Imagine having to lug all this snow around in a wheelbarrow like that.