*L spoke her first three-word sentence on Friday. It was, in case you're wondering, in response to her big sister having helped her a little too enthusiastically down the last step: E not NICE!
We arrived at the gorgeous vacation home so generously lent to us by friends and we unpacked and unwound and then we set out in search of pizza, and ice cream, and though it was close to bedtime-routine time, E was relentless in her determination: SAND. And the child last year (L) who ate sand wouldn't put her feet in it at all. And the child last year who screeched when it touched her (E) insisted on submerging herself. Cover me! she asserted and when I demurred, suggesting that perhaps that was a better activity for tomorrow morning, for not within 20 minutes of her sister's bedtime, well, she just pretended she had never asked at all and set about doing the deed herself.
July 7, 2009
Portrait of self-burial and selective deafness all at once.
Then, because it was now 18 minutes until the little one's bedtime and because said little one was getting quite heavy on my hip, we had to climb back up to terra firma so I could set her down and only the promise of More Sand Tomorrow! resurrected the big one from her half-formed scratchy grave.
And so we all walked off into the sunset, the one Who Formerly Hated Sand and the one who Suddenly Hates Sand, and of course, the mom and the dad. Who knows who they are; they're changing all the time. And what a lovely perk of being on vacation: a little extra time to reflect on that.
Two Shoeless Joe Jellybeans after a hard day's play.