rainy day mothering.

It’s still raining here.  Off and on all day, enough so that you can’t go anywhere without an umbrella or make random trips to the park without getting soaked in a sudden downpour within twenty minutes.  Little boy wants to play outside, and I let him play in the yard while its raining, and we look at bugs.  But you can only do so much looking at bugs.

I am also growing and entering into the phase of pregnancy where caring for the safety of fearless and fast little boys while outside amongst the cars, steep hills, and other dangers is easier said than done.  I’ve already had to take off sprinting after him twice in the last week, and it had to be as funny-looking as it was uncomfortable. (My belly was sore the next day.)  I’m beginning to think we’re both safer inside.

I’ve been making sad attempts at ‘creative indoor parenting’ the past few days.  Sad because my creative brain activity is low.  Sad because all I can think about is lists and to dos.  Sad because I’m tired and would rather eat the lemon loaf I made earlier this week with a nice cup of joe than get out all the coloring supplies again.  Jones, as always, has taken everything in stride and has little use for my guilt-ridden inner ramblings.  He’s been drumming a lot and asking me to sing along with him.  He’s also come into an obsession with the movie “Shrek” — he likes the dragon and all the emphasis on farting.  (He’s always found that to be quite hilarious.)  He’s also been a champion at making a total mess out of his room.  (Picking up after two-year-olds in their rooms is just a useless, unproductive activity that is better left undone, I’ve come to realize.)

In my boredom, I’ve actually eaten (with Jones’s help) almost all of the small lemon loaf I got out this morning.  Wondering what to do with the rest of the day.  Perhaps we’ll go look for curtains.

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