walking her home. again.
/
Happy Weekend, friends.
xo.
Molly
Beware the sound of silence
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Birdy is whole heartedly at the age where silence in my house means something very mischievous must be happening somewhere.
It's no longer innocent either.
And it usually involves markers.
You'd think I'd learn by now to keep the markers out of reach. And actually, I'm pretty sure I've made some rule about keeping markers in the metal can and keeping the can on top of the bookshelves in the school room.
But when everyone else in the house is up to their elbows in daily art projects and sign-making for bedroom doors, and charts, and secret club sign-up sheets, it's hard to remember to always put the markers away. I guess.
I've learned that the first place to check for her is under tables. If they're covered in a tablecloth, even more secretive and ideal.There will generally be a small collection of toys that don't belong to her. And a marker. Coloring her cheeks used to be her thing. Now, she colors her cheeks and lips, but quickly moves on to decorating the toys, too.
She has also decorated the sofa arm. And inside the towel cupboard in the bathroom. And of course the walls. I've come to expect the wall-decorating.
She highlighted the bookshelf in the living room. As well as running that same highlighter along the binding of each of Dan's books on the top shelf. How kind of her. We appreciate her hard highlighting work, we do.
Two nights ago, after her bath, she discovered the joys climbing into the dryer. To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken her this long to make the discovery. She's a child who likes a "house" to engage in all her mischievous work. It used to a cupboard in the bathroom. My clue would be the towels all over the bathroom floor. And the closed cubpoard doors. And the silence.
But two nights ago when she realized she could very easily climb into the dryer, and it fit several stuffed animals, and it echoed when you squealed inside? She was sold.
When I hung up after a phone call yesterday and realized the house was silent, I began the (slightly panicked) search for Birdy. She doesn't answer when I call for her (something we're working on). And Mary couldn't find her upstairs. I couldn't find her downstairs. Or outside.
Eventually she was discovered in the dryer.
These are probably things I shouldn't admit openly. Losing track of my toddler. Or the damage she does while unattended. But this Birdy is a firecracker. She moves to the beat of her own drum. Determined. Strong-willed. All those things.
And as of six days ago, facing the world as a newly crowned two year old. Here we go.
Like little diamonds at the end...
/Thought you might like to take a little peek at our streamside walk last night...(and my crazy diving dog.)
Music : Where The Road Meets The Sun | Katie Herzig & Matthew Perryman Jones
When Birdy went missing.
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Last week, while I was on the phone with Emily, all the kids were outside playing. Birdy, who jumps at any opportunity to be outside, was standing at my hip crying because she was inside and everyone else was out. When her screaming to go out became too much to talk over, I hung up with Emily long enough to put Birdy in her boots and sent her outside--calling to her sisters to keep any eye on her.
Emily and I continued to talk and I watched as some of the girls wandered back into the house. Finally, much later, Emma came in. Alone.
Where's Birdy? I asked.
She's inside with the girls.
No, she's not. You were watching her outside.
No one told me I was watching her.
And then, there's that parenting moment where you get the immediate pit in your stomach. Deep, deep down you're pretty sure everything is just fine. But in a flash, you've systematically worked through every possible horrible scenario that could happen to your unattended toddler. And what steps you'll take to deal with the emergency. As well as the fact that you haven't showered and if you're going to need to now make a trip to the emergency room, you're looking pretty scruffy and maybe you'll be able to at least wash your hair in the kitchen sink before you go.
Please. Tell me I'm not the only one who manages all these thoughts in course of 12 seconds?
But of course, we found her.
And of course where else would she be but playing in the muddiest corner or our property, where the driveway meets the grass. Where the water gathers after every rain. And mixes with mud and stone and mulch and soil.
And of course, she was wearing one of my favorite sweaters. And her best pair of jeans.
But who was watching her? Her very best pal.
Of course.
