Left Behind

A. got up with Charlie this morning and hauled him downstairs. At 5:15 a.m.

Harsh, Charlie. Way harsh.

When I came down two hours later, Charlie was demanding "for-eh." That's the forest, obviously (or, okay, not obviously unless you're fluent in Charlie-speak, which no one really is). A. explained to Charlie that they couldn't go to the forest because he (A.) had to go to work. Charlie wasn't pleased.

So I started thinking, trying to come up with a place that I could take Cubby and Charlie later that would satisfy their lust for forest adventures while not breaking my pregnant back due to having to hike miles and carry a thirty-pound toddler half the distance.

This is when I realized something: My children have far surpassed me in adventurousness. There was literally nowhere I could think of going that wouldn't result in them plunging into creeks and up and down gully banks in pursuit of adventure. I can't keep up with my two-year-old and four-year-old.

That didn't take long.

We ended up going down to the beach, where they played an involved game of pirate ship and I sat in a chair. It's not the forest, but it works for me.

All Grown Up

Big day today for Charlie: It's his first time going fishing with Mr. Jason in his boat. Although Charlie has been billing himself as a big boy for some time now (and getting increasingly irritable and insistent in correcting those people--mostly Cubby--who still call him a baby), I think you can't really call yourself a big boy in this family until you go fishing on Mr. Jason's boat.

So Mr. Jason's boat is currently filled with A., Cubby, and Charlie. God help Mr. Jason.

And I am currently sitting in an empty, quiet house, gestating the next boy who will be demanding to go "FEE" ("fish" in Charlie-speak) with Mr. Jason in a few years.

Lucky Mr. Jason. And lucky me.

A Serious Design Flaw

To all those pajama designers who no doubt read this site regularly: What the hell is up with the long pants and short-sleeved top pajama sets? Why are these almost ubiquitous? Why can't I buy long sleeves AND long pants for my sons together? Their flailing little arms are forever escaping their covers and getting chilled. They can't be the only children to do this. Why is it so hard to get long-sleeved pajamas for them?

Although not quite so flail-y as my children, I also sleep in the conventional manner of legs under the covers, head out of the covers. This means the first part of me to get uncovered should I flip over, or maybe--ahem A.--experience some blanket theft, is my arms. I do not need long pants; I need long sleeves. So how come the pajama set combination of shorts and long-sleeved shirt is nearly impossible to find? Have I perhaps been sleeping upside-down all these years?

Do not even speak to me of the odd pajama combination of pants and a tank top. This makes no sense to me.

I may embark on a second career as a pajama designer myself, if only to fill this void in the market.