Too Young

I was going to write about the lovely colors around me this season, about the contrast of freshly-painted barn against the blue sky, the muted colors of a rainy fall day, the shiny hard orange of so many pumpkins...

But just as I started typing a distraught three year old flung herself upon my lap.  "The boys say I'm too young to do it!"  The new box of Legos (an 8 year old's favorite birthday present) has just been opened.  She is too young for it.  I gently try to explain, while at the same time loving that she fits so perfectly between the keyboard and me.

Will picking out a picture for mommy's post mollify her?  It is hard to be too young  for stuff, I know.  I think I'm too young for this mothering gig, but...

Here's the picture she chose:

Cute little cousin friends. It's nice to be around someone who doesn't think you're too little to play.

What do you know? She chose a picture that showcases the beautiful fall weather we enjoyed for so much of October.  Looking at this picture makes this rainy day a little better for several reasons:
1. I am not watching anyone play soccer right now, but sitting in my big, dry house smelling the homemade beef & vegetable stew simmering on the stove.

2. Remember? We have had a nice fall.

3. I love my nephews (and nieces!).

Uncertain Endeavor

My two year old is easily the cutest around. She is pretty smart too.

And she is about to have her world shaken upside down.

I have been trying to prepare her for baby's arrival, but success in this endeavor is uncertain.

She has helped get out all the baby clothes, cooing over each tiny onsie. "Baby's," she says in a sugary sweet voice; then she tries on the too-small hats and unfolds the soft receiving blankets. She still seems to be retaining some ownership.

Patting the sides of the cradle, she informs us "Baby sleep here." However, she is suddenly attached to her own crib, as fascinating as the big girly bed (purchased to be shared between two sisters) was just last month. Subtly resisting change?

Getting her dressed to go "bye bye" has never been an issue. Now she seems to purposefully delay each departure with particular needs for a particular bag, a particular pair of shoes, a particular jacket, a particular set of gloves. Great; in another two weeks we will have an infant in a car seat and her particular two year old self to carry out to the car -- and there is no doubt someone will be screaming if the particulars are left at home.

She has a group of favorite books that she "reads" to herself at naptime. Today, as I tucked her blankey around her and settled the small stack atop her lap she looked up at me and said, "My books... baby no read my books."

Oh boy. What is sharing Mommy's lap going to look like?