THE WONDERFUL, MAGICAL WORLD OF SLOANE

What is it about these weeks! I'm dragging, hard, through the work day and doing the thing where I am looking forward to the next weekend starting on Monday.  Each day, I feel the need to gather up the endurance of a long-distance runner...Heyo Wednesday. 

Last weekend, we finally got around to doing the thing that I love most about fall - apple picking! I'll post more pictures about that later (when I get my replacement charger in the mail because Rusty ate through mine, so my laptop, along with all my photos, are in slumber until a new charger revives it. RIP charger, RIP $80.)






For now, I wanted to share some wonderful things happening in the world of Sloane. After eyeballing and gifting it around, I finally got myself the "One Line a Day: A Five-Year Memory Book", and I've been using it to jot down quick recordings of observations having to do with Sloane's adventures.

Here are a few selections, for your reading pleasure:

She says she is going to tell me a story and proceeds to simply list anything and everything she can think of and see around her: "Trees, sheep, Rusty, ball, deer, table, chairs...."

The next day, a development! She yells, "I story!", and then proceeds to scrunch her face up as she launches into her 'story' and I catch a few recognizable words here and there: "vroom...up there... fast.. no cry...all together."

It's bedtime and she climbs into the rocking chair with a book and surreptitiously, naturally, slips her hand into her front pocket and pulls out an imaginary morsel of food and slips it in her mouth, before opening the book to read.

I start saying bedtime prayers and she interjects with, "pray for cow, goats and pony."

After I close the door, I can hear her singing songs ("wheels on the bus") to her chosen stuffed animal of the night.

As soon as she hears me starting to unload the dishwasher, she runs over and asks to help. "Mom, this goes in there?" picking up a spoon and motioning to the utensil drawer. "Yes, it does." "Oh, okay!" She deftly puts each item away in the drawer, while on tip toes. 

"Mom, I squeezed orange juice at school!" 

"Oh nice! Wait, real or pretend?" I ask, not knowing if she knows the word.

"Pretend....Michael ate orange, Ms. Melinda said, 'No eat orange.' It's pretend!" 

Somewhere along the line, she started calling me "mom" in regular conversation. "Mom, I can't reach it!" It makes her sound so much older than she is. But when she wants to be comforted, when she sees me walk through the door to pick her up at daycare, it's still: "Mommy!" 

"I am so happy to see you Sloane!" I say, giving her a big squeeze. She beams back at me, understanding, and her face says, "Oh! I am loved."

There are plenty of times when she wants to be contrary, but I am constantly amazed by how well she listens, how much she understands, how much she wants to be on good terms with us, and how much she trusts us. I treasure this.