N’s after school activity of choice—regardless of temperature or precipitation and completely independent of time constraints—is running around the fields with his school friends. G tries to keep up even though all he does is run in the general direction before getting distracted by a bird flying overhead, a rock buried in the dirt, or a pile of snow on the ground. To their credit, the school friends are sometimes nicer to G, but I’m holding on to the hope that if N sees this on a regular basis, he’ll start to think G is pretty cool and be a little nicer to him. There’s always hope, right?
Contrary to what we’ve been seeing—or not seeing—outside, it is winter here in New England. Temperatures are almost regularly above freezing and last weekend we got a few inches of rain. Thankfully it wasn’t snow, or I would’ve been shoveling for a few hours. Anyway, the rain basically turned the skin infields behind N’s school into diamonds of mud. Overnight, they froze, but the warm-ish daytime temperatures thawed them out just enough to then turn them into quagmires that 4-year-old boys have to play in.
This happened three days in a row. Luckily only two were disastrous messes.
Day 1: His black sneakers, that my parents bought because we forgot to pack a pair of sneakers for him while they watched him one day, are his go-to pair. They were shot after the pack of friends trekked to the back field. His left leg was covered in mud and he had dirt caked on the back of his jacket as well. All in all, a good, fun day because … mud.
Day 2: N’s Minions slip-ons bore the brunt of the sloppy mess behind second base but fortunately we didn’t lose a shoe in the muck as one of his school friends did. The kid came walking over with a soaking wet sock caked in dirt while N gingerly walked towards me as to not knock off any of the dirt before showing me what he’d “found.” “Dad, I wanted to see if the mud was really, really muddy—so I had to walk in it.” Luckily G is still a step too slow to keep up; therefore, he was meandering around in the outfield grass.
Day 3: He wore his bright orange Nike sneakers because the other two pairs were drying after being washed clean of mud. He avoided, for the most part, covering himself in mud, like I advised him to do. I’d imagine it was so tempting to follow his school friends into the mud, but he showed some pretty good restraint. I told him I was proud of him. It doesn’t always play out that way.
The good news is we’ve got about 22 pairs of kids sneakers/boots/flip-flops downstairs. The bad news is N only has three pairs that fit while G has two. The rest will be worn in the coming months by G (read: hand-me-downs lightly worn by N) and eventually, if they’re still in good shape, D3. Sorry kid, second-hand-hand-me-downs are one of the perks of being the third kid, along with clothes and jackets.
Speaking of D3 … Here’s a week 27 pregnancy update:
Less than a hundred days left, holy smokes!
L is crushing it, and fortunately, like the first two pregnancies, she’s staying healthy and has avoided getting sick, sans a two-day stretch where she felt like crud. This was not a pregnancy sickness as was evident by me getting very sick two days later, unless … I’m pregnant, too!?
We’re going to shack N and G together in N’s current room with bunk beds once D3 arrives. That’ll require some painting because N puts a hurting on his walls. It’ll require some rearrangement of the furniture in the room, but I think overall N is looking forward to sleeping on the top bunk. Only problem is that “Nate will have to find somewhere wise to sleep.”
As for D3’s room, currently occupied by G, the crib will be put to use again and will remain intact but the “G” and nautical theme adorning the room will have to change because we’re likely going to avoid another G name. The glider and ottoman will stick around.
The walls are light gray and staying that way because—regardless of how we decorate and what colors we use—gray goes with everything. I think.