Marguerite has been going through an extreme "I can't let mama out of my sight" phase. The furthest she's willing to be away from me is sitting on the bath mat directly on the other side of the shower curtain. My parents have patiently embraced her wailing body while I separate myself from her for an hour here and there. It's hard, but good for her and I both to remember how to operate without constant contact.
Listening to the ducks laugh on the slough with Grandmama is a daily ritual:
The days leading up to Valentine's Day have been wrought with shredded bits of pink paper cuttings on the floor, 30 requests to have her name spelled out loud while she carefully prints, glitter glue everywhere, and a general consensus that getting the pre-made cards would have been 100 times easier and tidier. Now that the glitter has settled, it was fun watching G chip away at a project and feel the sense of satisfaction that comes with completing something that at times felt monumental.
Speaking of monumental, convincing Marguerite that the pockets go in back when it comes to wearing jeans is going to take some serious work on my part:
Happy Valentine's Day to all you love birds!
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