The Camellias are in bloom. The children fancy pulling them to pieces and leaving little piles of red petals on the sidewalk. The time change brings Phil home in time for dinner and romping in the front yard. With the same slide, lawnmower, and rock-climbing crash pad, the children grow more and more inventive with their types of play. Lee's imagination has come alive of late. There are dinosaurs and dragons and buccaneers and fires all over the place. This imagination boom has made play with Rose all the more delightful. They run about calling each other's names.
"Lee! Come see somefin'!"
"Oh no, Rose! A monster is coming! Let's hide."
"Lee! Time a eat!"
"Do it, Rose! Do it!"
Lee has also grown in courage. The people in the grocery store no longer scare him. He will now bravely walk beside the shopping cart. I've been doing my shopping on the weekends when Phil could watch the children because I was unable to fit my groceries in the cart with Lee in there too. Now he races along trying to find the items on my list for me. Rose relaxes in the child's seat.
Phil has tackled several projects about the house including repairing the children's closet ceiling where years of leakage had made a hole in the plaster. He has also replaced the light sockets in our kitchen and discovered that the trouble wasn't the sockets but the lights I was buying for the enclosed fixtures. He also installed the last pieces of our kitchen cabinets and works studiously on side jobs in the evenings.
Progress around here sometimes looks like two steps forward and one steps back. Like when Rose started on solid food and a more extensive kitchen clean-up became a new chore after meals. Or when Rose started potty training and with that has come soiled clothes and carpets. Now we face the marvelous growth stage where Rose's desire for independence and choice collides with my sensibility and patience. Screaming fits occur at least once a day. I've learned that I must buck up and laugh, or I shall start crying with them.