I’ve taken my older children to OSV (a “bringing History alive” old timey village) so many times that they got sick of it. But, I personally love that place so yesterday I went and renewed my membership just for ME. I did, of course, have my two youngest ones with me, but the others were at school.
What a gorgeous morning to go, too. As I buckled them into their carseats I cautioned wriggling, talking Seth, “And please behave yourself! Is that even possible?” “No.” was his all too quick answer. Oh Seth, besides getting lost that one time, you did just fine. xoxo
The beauty was good for my soul. Yellow flowers against a white picket fence.
Heirloom tomatoes sitting in a sunbeam
Sitting by the water
covered bridge detail
first braid ever
we saw big horses and thought of sister Grace
a little red calf
After admiring huge black pigs things started going predictably downhill. It was hot and Sarah just couldn’t walk anymore. I picked her up and as we went past the apple trees a bee flew over and stung her right on the back of the neck. You can imagine how the poor dear cried. It did hurt, so bad. I walked as fast as I could with her in my arms and tried to keep Seth with us. We made our way to the eating place where I pumped them full of jello, yogurt, an orange, and (oh my) COKE for lunch. Sarah perked up, who wouldn’t, with all that sugar. Every once in a while she would say, “Ow!Ow! my head!” “I know, you were stung by a bad bee, weren’t you, Sarah?” “Yes” (pitifully).
We carried our coke to the long promised “grayground” (Sarah’s word for playground) and when another bee flew over I screamed, “A BEEEEE” which made Seth run and grab my leg and I’m sure caused some other visitors some alarm over that “crazy mother”. I was just on edge, okay? No stings this time.
I sat and they played.
They turned into sheep. The cutest sheep in the universe, I’d say.
After wearing them and myself completely out it was time to go. But no, Seth just had to run off and get himself lost. I had assumed he was following me and when I turned around (with big Sarah in my arms and my big purse over my shoulder, and the sweat running down) he wasn’t there. After an eternity five minutes, I found him at the soda machine and he had wet his pants. He thought he had found the bathroom and ran to the door only to find that it wasn’t one.
With wet and jello covered pants, and a sting upon her neck, we buckled up again and made our way back home.
They didn’t even wake up when I stopped to get my pumpkin coffee at the Dunkin’ Donuts drive thru.
Makin’ memories with the young ones and going out for an adventure in perfect September weather = priceless.
Even if I’m still tired out today.
“A two-year-old is kind of like having a blender, but you don’t have a top for it.”