I’m always loathe to throw anything away, or give it away, or put it away, if I believe there is even the slightest chance the lads could use it at some point. These items are overflowing in the storage space we have upstairs, little pieces trailing out and into the bedroom, always underfoot, clogging the vacuum cleaner, passing through Lil G’s digestive systems (I’m looking at you Carrera racetrack braces).
It’s finally cooled down. Severely and suddenly, so I spent most of yesterday in a migraine haze, alternating between nausea and watching the little stars twinkle by. Blergh. When I was feeling well enough to come downstairs and interact, Noah and I sat at the computer and looked through catalogs, seeing which Pixars Cars he did not yet own (few, let me tell you. Sheesh!), to be put on a wish list. At one point we came across a playtent.
Noah: I wish I had a tent like that, Mommy.
Me: There’s no room, where would we put a tent?
Noah: There is space, in the playroom. Pleeeeaaaaassseeee?
Me: I’m not getting you a tent, you already ha… Oh! Hold on a sec, let me go get something your Grandpa and Grandma sent like… a year ago.