We had a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend in Connecticut with Brian's family. The weather was beyond perfect (the mid 60's?!?!) and we spent a lot of time playing outside. We had so much fun and I took tons of photos.
I never knew the eve of Thanksgiving could be so exciting and fun, until I moved to the Upper West Side. Specifically, to an apartment along the Thanksgiving Day Parade route.
(She's being goofy.)
Isabella's school had huge inflatable slides in the school yard when we picked her up from school (as a fundraiser). We played there for a little while, until the kids were sufficiently cold, wet and cranky. Then we went across the street to see the parade balloons being filled with helium. We ran into some old friends, visiting from Washington D.C. about the time all my kids started screaming because their fingers and toes were frozen. (It was one of those moments when I realized I was the only one around with a 1:3 ratio; adult to child.)
I asked a stranger to snap a photo, promised the kids hot chocolate, and plowed my beast of a stroller through the crowds. I flashed my i.d. to the cops and got past gated areas because I'm an Upper West Sider. It pays to spend a gazillion dollars in rent sometimes. We settled into the overcrowded Starbucks, wished neighborhood friends a happy Thanksgiving, sipped hot cocoa and got chatting with a touristy family. Tourists from Farmington, UT who figured I might be Mormon. I guess we kind of stand out with the mom to child ratio, in New York City.
We dashed home and had to stop the steady stream of toursits flowing by our apartment door so I could heft our beast of a stroller down the 5 steps to our ground floor door. It was my way of putting on a show for the visitors. I am sure they were thinking, "Crazy New Yorker!" Once inside our cozy little palace, I wrapped the kids in warm blankets and finally exhaled!
Simon is an amazing little napper. He sleeps a solid 3 hours every.single.morning! Once Isabella started school those morning hours have become my time to be with just Oliver. (I have to be very careful because it is all too easy get in the habit of doing dishes, cleaning house, making phone calls, etc. during that time. It's tricky finding the balance!) A few days ago I realized I have never made cookies with just Oliver. Oliver loves to help me cook, but sharing that time/space with his older sister can be difficult sometimes. When I asked him if he wanted to make cookies he ran to the kitchen with a fervent, "A-HA!" It was so much fun (and a whole lot easier with just one helper)!
He watched over his baking cookies diligently while browsing one of his favorite books. He then enjoyed chocolate chip cookies while I read If You Give a Mouse a Cookie to him at least a dozen times.