More of the Same

Sorry. All I have is random.

I was going for depth, but I just rubbed my eye after putting on hand lotion. Talk about a burning sensation.

Anyway...

What, you may ask, is she avoiding THIS time?

Emptying the cat litter.

We certainly would have had more children if I'd realized 22 years ago that I would be the one left to take care of the cat.

Also, if you are new here, I never ever refer to my grandchildren as Jonge and Famke in my real life. Those names only appear on my blog. If someone were to call them that, they would not know what those words mean. But, THGGM and I ARE Pake and Beppe. I had an argument with Jonge over that this week. He did not believe that I was his grandma.

Today we made a band! Something a random person in his life would not do, I'm sure. Only a Beppe would.

It was great fun. Usually, for music and singing we all three sit at the piano bench. Famke likes to perch dangerously close to the edge, and has slipped off enough times where one would think she would no longer WANT to sit so close to the edge, but it phases her not a bit to fall. Jonge climbs up using whatever bench is closest. If sometime you stop in and discover a potty chair in the living room, that would be why. I insist upon sitting in the middle of the piano bench as falling off is not an option I care to entertain.

But today was different from all others. Okay. Each day is different from the one before, but sometimes it takes a good many days before one can notice an actual difference in them. This seems to be most true for those caring for young children.

Today we gathered wooden spoons, maracas, jingle bells, pans and wooden blocks.

Jonge, like most 2 year old I have ever known, likes to have ALL of the instruments ALL at once. This makes the band sound terrible.

So I came up with the idea that we would be a marching band. This of course eliminated the use of the piano, as I cannot even roll it out, let alone push it through the house while singing.

Jonge wanted to be first, but did not understand exactly how to go about it. I cannot walk and chew gum at the same time, so marching, singing, ringing my bells and directing the entire affair was not something that could have been called 'smooth running'.

Famke. Where is Famke? She took the opportunity to go in the other direction. She likes freedom and truly does march to her own drum. Or, doll, which she bangs on the head with a wooden spoon.

When Jonge became aware that she was not following behind him in her usual state of awe, he became distressed.

I had stepped in something and had broken rank to get a dry pair of socks.

As I returned, Jonge was trying to herd Famke back into step.

He was calling her "Sweety".

"Sweety! Over here, Sweety! Come on, Sweety. We are going on the back porch now, Sweety! Good job, Sweety!"

It was just too too, well, sweet!

Wow. You read to the end? I haven't much to say. I'm tired, and do not want to empty that cat litter. But, trash pick-up is early tomorrow morning.

Jonge and sweety Famke will be arriving in the morning, and spending the whole weekend with Pake and Beppe.

This may seriously limit my ability to update my blog(s).