“Come see my barn, Mom.” I had been doing dishes, and Charlotte told me to turn the water off to come see. She rarely plays with this barn (mostly because it has not been easily accessible to her until recently). Once I sat down to observe, I got a plate of “cake” handed to me (a piece of barn on another piece of barn), not exactly what I was expecting. I then got “cookies,” “syrup,” and “applesauce.” James was nearby watching youtube videos on rolling steel, cause, you know, and he also got the snacks that I was served. For a minute, Chuck’s mind switched to organizational mode and she started sorting and stacking up the pieces. It wasn’t long before the barn pieces were food again, and I heard, “Bye, Mom. Thanks,” as she headed into the kitchen saying she was going on a trip. She mumbled something about dropping them off on her way. She came back, sat in the chair a minute doing nothing, and said she was waiting. Then she went to get the pizza. “Eat your pizza like that, Mommy,” she said as she showed me how to eat it with her slice of pizza. Then, Charlotte (who was sitting right next to me) yelled, “Um, Mom…” I responded, “Yes?” She said, “No, I’m talking to my mom over here,” pointing into the other room. That’s her thing lately, talking to her friends and other moms in other rooms of our house. It’s kind of creepy to hear your child yell, “Mom, come get your pizza!” to some distant figment of her imagination when you are right by her. I guess after she and her other mom finished the pizza, the fences became candy and she put most of them away to save them for tomorrow (that must be something her other mom does).
All Mountains and Molehills 