Ah, blogging. The hobby of the 21st century. My hobbies are decidedly more 20th century, with reading and keeping house (is that a hobby?) right at the top of the list. Playing with my kids is way up there, too, although that may qualify as a 21st century hobby. My mom, a fantastic 1970s sahm, insists that she never played with us. We would get dressed in the morning and head straight out the door to the neighbors' house, making it possible for her to do things like, I dunno, macrame? It was the 70s, after all. There was no such thing as a playdate, and it was perfectly acceptable to respond to a child's "I'm bored" with "go run around the block three times." Nowadays, danger lurks around the block, and telling a child something like that borders on child abuse. It's hard to imagine what parenting will be like in another thirty years. Will it be even more paranoid than today? Or will it swing the other way, with children being given tremendous amounts of freedom? Imagine.
So far this week, my kids have been absolute gems, especially given the fact that the weather is crummy. It's about 12 degrees right now, and while there's some beautiful snow out there, I am not in the mood to bundle them up and let them play for a few minutes, then unbundle them, yell at them to keep their boots off the carpet, and make them hot chocolate that will be abandoned after two sips because it's too hot. Maybe it'll be warmer tomorrow and we can go sledding. That's MY personal favorite winter activity. I am completely incapable of resisting the urge to ride down the hill skeleton-style, whooping joyously while the kids stand at the top of the hill screaming "it's my turn, mommy!"
But for today, we're keeping busy. We converted Anna's bed to a day bed in anticipation of the Big Event: the purchase of a big girl bed. I expect Rob will be a little wary of this idea, as it's quite possible she'll roll right on out of the bed, but I figure people have been sleeping on beds for centuries, and most of us fell out a few times while we were getting the hang of it. I don't know of anyone who suffered a brain injury as a result of such a fall. (knock on wood, right?)
I'm able to blog right now because the kids are blowing off steam in the playroom. I dragged the inflatable mattress up from the basement and they're jumping and rolling around on it. Good times, that. It's another idea of which Rob would likely be wary, but he's not the one cooped up with these two little balls of energy for the third day in a row! The mattress is as far as possible from anything potentially hazardous, it's pushed up against the sofa to discourage leaping to and fro, and it's only 14 inches off the ground to begin with. What's more, they're happy. Safe and happy - the two things I want most for my children. It's frustrating when the two things are at odds, but we find ways to work around it.
I titled this entry "I should really do this more often," and now I know why. It feels good to write - to jot down the fun things we've got going on in our lives, and to know that someone (Jeanie, is that you?) might get a smile out of my musings. The kids are growing up much too quickly, and the days whiz by. If I don't write these things down, they'll all just be vague memories. Happy, safe, vague memories. The very thought makes me want to go hug my sweet babies and remind them that they're no longer allowed to eat because I don't want them to get any bigger.