a different sort of christmas
intentions

on a rainy day

Thank you for your well-wishes for my dear Dad. His recovery is moving along steadily, and we hope he'll be out of the hospital by Thursday.

on a rainy day

We've had a handful of rainy days this past week, and that, coupled with some runny noses and persistent coughs, has kept all of us inside and mellow. 

Finn wrote a story the other day, which he dictated to Patrick. As they read it over together, Finn made edits. Love that. Patrick has fond memories of doing this same activity with his mother when he was a wee one.

We tend to use the light tray on dreary days; this time I put a plastic bin on top and let him loose with paint.

on a rainy day

on a rainy day

on a rainy day

The best part was print-making, according to Finn. Just put a piece of paper on top of the paint and smoosh, then lift it up. 

on a rainy day

We also used the light tray and plastic bin to do a float/sink experiment with household objects. Finn filled the bin with water (using a pitcher and going back and forth to the sink) and then we gathered the following in a bowl: crayon, ball of clay, apple, wooden egg, spatula, cookie cutter, plastic whale, clay formed into a boat, an almond, a bean, a pumpkin seed, a measuring cup, and a few other things I'm forgetting. Before Finn placed each item in the water, we formed hypotheses and dicussed the results. He was most impressed that the bean sunk while the pumpkin seed floated.

on a rainy day

I'm most impressed that he is writing stories and forming hypotheses. Wasn't it just two days ago that he was just starting to crawl across rooms? Before long, these boys of mine will be four and six, and my life will be totally different than it is now.

For now, you must excuse me - I have to sweep the floor yet again because something major happened this week (aside from my Dad's surgery). Yes. Lachlan is on the MOVE. And putting everything in his mouth. Lachlan is rather pleased, and I'm pleased for him. I must say, however, that I have just a dash of pity for my broom-weilding self, knowing that he'll only get faster. 

And with the snap of my fingers, the stay-put baby stage is over and a new one has begun! 

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