Heath's preschool holiday break has begun and he decided to kick his off with a 5:45 wake up time this morning, just 2 minutes after Stella's 5:43am awakening. Merry, Merry.
I reminded him that he did not have school this morning to which he replied, I'm not on vacation. I have work to do. It was 5:50am. I told him he would have to settle for watching Bob the Builder. He was satisfied with this activity.
Lucky for me, I didn't hear any complaints three hours later when I suggested we suit up and run to the park. No one fought me on hats and gloves and shoes. No one tried to chew their way out of the burdensome weather cover. They simply sat back, munched on fruit bars, and sang Frosty the Snowman for the first mile of the run. Over and over. And over. With very limited lyrics.
Just as my gloved fingers had become sufficiently numbed to the point of not feeling the cold anymore, the singing ceased. I peaked around the front and found both kiddies were fast asleep. Again, lucky for me. I took the long way to get to the park, where they played until they were frozen and requested going home for hot apple juice.
Not a bad start to the holiday.
Stella has her second (and hopefully last) surgery tomorrow morning. This evening Mark and I reminded her that we would be going to the hospital in the morning, and further explained to her and to Heath that she would have another bandage on the boo-boo. She lifted up her neck, pointed to the swollen spot, and with utmost assurance said, Doctor check a neck, mommy. It okay.
It's so nice of her to comfort us.
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