Today I got to babysit my friend's children while she went out to dinner with her parents and siblings. James, our neighbour, is leaving for a two-year mission to Chile in a couple of weeks. Diana, his sister, who is married to Andrew's cousin, flew out to spend the weekend with him before he leaves. She's here. And Willy's here. And Michelle's here—she just moved here, actually. The other kids are always here. The only one they're missing is Steve. Anyway, they wanted to go out to eat unhampered by fussy children so Michelle's kids came over to play.
For a couple of hours I had a four-year-old, a three-year-old, a(n almost) two-year-old, and a one year old. Things were pretty crazy around here. The one-year-old was only happy when we were squeaking squeaky toys in his face, otherwise he was screaming for his momma.
He also spent some happy moments being part of the stroller brigade—they went round and round the kitchen and living room so many times I lost count. The living room has two entrances—one to the kitchen and one to the hallway. The kitchen also has two entrances—one to the hallway and one to the living room. The hallway + living room + kitchen = The greatest play space ever. We're constantly doing laps while playing chasing games or, in this case, walking our baby dolls.
We had a few slight problems with this activity because we only have three strollers (poor us, right?) and there were four children so one was always left out. It wasn't terrible evening but let's just say I'm thankful that I only have two children right now—more will come later, I'm sure, but for now two is a fine number.
The other day my two beautiful daughters decided to play Mr. Potato Head before bed. It was Miriam's idea. At first I had no idea what she was talking about.
"Play 'tato game!" she requested.
I was like, "What?"
But Rachel knew just what she meant, said, "Great idea!" and ran to fetch Mr. Potato Head from his container under the bed. They had a great time deciding what he should wear (or what she should wear; our Potato Head is dual-gendered).
Miriam also joined in on wearing Mr. Potato Head accessories. I'm pretty sure every North American child has done this at least once in their life. I never had a Mr. Potato Head growing up but I partied with people who did, and I remember doing this:
Rachel was much more interested in actually dressing up Mr. Potato Head. She's capable enough to put on the pieces all by herself now, which is awesome. I love independence (most of the time).
Every time she made a new face she'd come in and pose for the camera.
The best was when she brought in a Picasso-inspired potato sculpture.
She had plenty of poses to imitate that one!
When she showed it to Daddy he said, "Yes!" and gave her a high five. He was so proud.
I certainly do love my girls!