Sweet Harmony

My children were separated for close to three days early this week.   My son and I came home and my husband and daughter flew to Detroit a day after us for an appointment with her retina surgeon.   It was clear both children missed each other because they talked about it to us independently and when we got on the phone they said nice, even kind things to each other without prompting such as, “I love you.  I miss you.”

Late last night my husband and daughter arrived home from the airport.   My son had elected to sleep in his sleeping bag in the middle of the floor so he could be woken up to welcome them home.   He was unable to be woken up by my attempts to wake him, my non-attempts to wake him when I carried him up the steps and ungracefully dumped him into the top bunk (he’s getting heavy) or by the screams of his sister who was so tired she thought she wasn’t tired.  

At any rate, my children reunited this morning and breakfast and the morning routine went about as normal as it usually does.   We got ready and headed to the car.   As I drove out my children started this happy and yet aggressive conversation with each other in the back seat.   I tried very hard not to laugh.   There was initially discussion on who was going to hit whom.    It escalated from there.    By the time we got to school I had my phone out, ready to write down what they were saying.

My daughter, “if you push me down the hill, I’m gonna bite you in the face!”
My son, “oh!  Well I’m really gonna bite you in the face now!”

The Big Boy Update:  My son was sitting on my daughter the other day.   It was unclear what was happening or how they even got into the situation but since no one was crying, I assumed it was a game they were both happy about.   When we asked him, my son told us he had decided to use his sister as, “a butt pillow”.  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   We got a report today from my daughter’s visual impairment and orientation and mobility teachers.   They went over the goals they had for her and how well she was progressing.   While she may never need it, she has been introduced to a cane.   Her teacher, Jane, has an adult cane and my daughter has a child-sized one.   In the report, Jane mentioned my daughter had named her cane, “baby cane”.  I asked about her cane at dinner tonight and sure enough, we heard all about baby cane.