a place to meet, play & inspire

Where to even begin?  Spring!   The children have gone gangbusters with playing outdoors thanks to Tim and the playhouse he purchased for the girls.  He scrimped and saved his money for a while by selling items on Ebay from both his aircraft and monster model collections.  You should have seen their eyes when the realized it was theirs!  Worth every penny.  It was one of  those rare moments I have as a parent when I applaud capitalism and the acquisition of more stuff.  This was hand made by a local craftsman.  Yay, local.  Yay, American-made.

The playhouse is not subject to the Big House Rules, thus saith the children.  Their first and most joyously broken rule is that they can chew with their mouths open (otherwise known as "smacking" in the Big House). They can stomp their feet.  They can scream (but not loud enough for Mommy to think they are being axe murdered).  They can have a rock collection.  They can say nasty words upon which Mommy usually frowns, words such as "vagina" and "poop" and "butt hole."    Not that Mommy thinks these words are "bad," so to speak, but the girls use them in the most vulgar ways possible at nearly 8 and 6 years old and Mommy would like to make some attempt to introduce the children to keeping certain things to themselves.  These are the things that are of infinite interest to my two older girls.  This I blame on Daddy with whom they whisper and giggle and say all manner of vile things.  It is somewhat of a "good parent, bad parent" scenario as I know what is happening and feign horror and warn of soapy mouths for ALL of them. 

Das bebe (the baby) has also enjoyed slithering around in the play house and spends many moments climbing up and down the porch.  The older two close the play house door and the baby stands and bangs on it until they open it.  There is a segmented door so they can open only the top which creates such games as "Doughnut Shop" and "Ice Cream Shop."  They have even created a drive-thru.  I'll be honest when I say I am sick to death of ordering "blue doughnuts" and "vanilla coffee" through the drive-thru, and my lips are hurting from making too many vehicle sounds. 

Erin decided to leave home on Sunday because I wouldn't give in to a demand she made.  She moved in to the play house for about 15 minutes.  It was raining and cold and there was no dry place to sit or toilet paper so she did decide to come home after all.  Last time she did this she actually packed a suitcase.

So, all things considered, the playhouse is a hit.

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