The boys have been loving running around on the newfound flat, grassy surfaces outside lately. They generally head out after the twins’ naps. Yesterday I glimpsed them all standing facing down the ravine out in back toward what they call the “muddy river”, which really is barely a trickle. Couldn’t even call it a stream.
They stood there for quite a while in small-boy time, and eventually came back inside going on and on about the waterfall they could hear in the distance. How it’s all the way up in the North Pole. How it’s actually in the middle of Santa Claus’s town and that’s how the town got built there. And how they just have to built a boat so they could go see it.
Now, as I said, this is NO river. It’s less boat worthy than any of the puddles that can be found up and down the street. But also – that waterfall thing. How do I break it to them that what there hearing is not the majesty of nature, but the roar of traffic? Hmmmmm. If this breaks my heart, how will I survive this motherhood thing??