The remote control in the trash can (and other adorable findings)

I realized Turtle and Monkey no longer need me breathing down their necks every second about three weeks ago. We came inside from playing outdoors and I herded them into the kitchen. Their high chair trays were still dirty from snack time, I needed to whip up their dinner, and they both were already darting in different directions out of the kitchen. I decided, for once, just to let them go while I spent the five minutes I needed getting things ready. I half-watched them with my peripheral vision, noticing fragments of harmless activity – there goes Turtle with N’s flip flops, someone’s carrying my slipper around, there goes Monkey with the remote control, here comes someone with PJs they pulled out of the dresser drawer, there goes someone chewing on Sonya Lee (she is a Fisher Price Little People character, our favorite).

They had fun getting into everything without me micromanaging them – “put that down honey, yucky shoes, don’t eat, let’s put those PJs back in the drawer, this remote control is not for Monkey” and so on. And it was a relief to just let them be and do what I needed to do. Then I sat them in their high chairs for dinner and put everything back where it needed to go. Except for the remote. I couldn’t find it anywhere, but I could have sworn I saw Monkey carrying it around.

Finally, I had a flash of insight. Monkey loves to open the trash can and stick her hand in, so I lifted the lid, and voila, the remote. I was proud of her “experiment” and quite pleased with myself for being able to solve her little puzzle.

Then I began noticing “misplaced” items more often. Like the time the girls were fighting over Astronaut Neil and I could not find Astronaut Sally anywhere. After they went to bed, I was straightening up the play room, and there was Astronaut Sally, stuck in one of the ball spaces in the Dinosaur Drop. I thought of Turtle, picking up Sally and wondering to herself, “If I stick this in the hole, will it make the music go?” And I wondered, did it make the music go? Was Turtle disappointed when Sally didn’t roll down the side of the dinosaur, the way the ball does? Did she try to get Sally out of the hole or did she just move on to something else?

Now, every night when I straighten up, I’m thrilled by more fascinating discoveries. The cow in the space ship, the tea cup in the fire truck, Sonya Lee in the pajama drawer. And I think of Monkey, deciding that a cow would make a good companion to Astronaut Neil; or Turtle, hiding her tea cup under the seat of the fire truck, and I want to go pull them out of their cribs and smother them with kisses for being so cute. I am dying to know what thoughts are going on inside their heads – do they have words or are there just pictures? Are they dying to tell me what they know? “Momma, the astronauts need the cow with them so they can have milk in space, duh!”

The girls are in bed now, and it’s time for me to go. I’m starting to miss them already, so I need to straighten the play room and see what they’ve left for me tonight.