Tidbits

Goodbye Pony:

There is a convenience store in a strip mall where I occasionally go for coffee that had a full size horse statue out front. I first started running in and out for coffee when the girls were just months old; I could leave them in the car parked right in front of the store without ever having them out of my sight, and I would direct them to talk to the pony while I ran in for a minute. Well, "The Pony" became a "thing" and they would regularly ask to go see the pony. One or the other would say, "Mommy, let's go see the pony and you get." (which meant I would "get" out of the car.) I would often say, "we can go see the pony but I'm not going to get" and then we'd just drive by and wave to the pony. Last week Monkey said, "Let's go see the pony mommy," and I said, "Sure!" I drove to the store and GASP! There was no horse statue!! This was a big bronze horse statue, full size. And it was gone. I was shocked and I really thought I might cry. I went into the convenience store demanding to know where my babies' pony had gone. Turns out the owner of the strip mall sold it. SOLD it. I really don't know who could possibly buy such a thing, or how one would even sell it. Craigslist? Anyway, the cashier lamented the lost horse as well, saying that his daughter had been enjoying the pony since she was two (she's now 12). After I whined a little more, wishing I could have known so I could have at least taken a picture, I left. I dreaded telling the girls that the pony really was gone, fearing a screaming melt down from Monkey.

"Well girls, the pony is gone. The woman who owns it sold it," I said after I got in the car. They both looked a little surprised. Then Turtle said, "Can we go see my old school now mommy?" (referring to the daycare they attended part-time for a few months during my half-hearted attempt to return to work after they turned one). It's close to the store, so we drove by it, and that made them both happy and they haven't mentioned the pony again. Which goes to show that they are a lot more flexible than I give them credit for.

Trapped in Chick-Fil-A

There's a Chick-Fil-A in town that has a pretty good climbing structure inside that I've been wanting to check out for the girls. We went there yesterday for lunch and Monkey climbed up higher and higher. While it is incredibly tall (as tall as the store), it is virtually impossible to fall more than 18 inches, and then onto a soft landing, so I wasn't too worried. Until Monkey started saying, "I need help mommy." I tried to direct her to the tunnel that led to the slide, but she couldn't quite figure it out. And I couldn't reach her or fit inside to get her. She climbed up another step and then I couldn't see her at all, but I could hear her. "I need help mommy. Help mommy, I need help." It was like hearing a kitten mewing in a tree but you can't quite figure out where it is. She was calm; I don't think she was afraid. She just needed help. But after a few minutes I starting getting anxious because I was worried she was going to get afraid and start screaming. Also, I could not see her at all, so that was pretty disconcerting. I wanted to say "Come to Mommy's voice, Carol Ann," but I refrained. Instead, I gave a 10-year-old $2 to climb up and save her, and then we had lunch.

Sandbox

We have a little sand table that Monkey loves to play in. Yesterday, though, she told me it was too small and she was going to get a new one. "Oh really?" I asked. "How?" "From Christmas," she answered. I was so shocked I sent her in to tell Twin Daddy exactly what she just told me. She told him she was going to get a sandbox in her stocking. So, I guess it is all over now. Last year all she asked from Santa was a lollipop and a candy cane. We cherished the sweetness of the simple request, and I'm glad we did.