Friday, January 2, 2015

What Christmas Week Is Like

Now that my niece is 3, she keeps us all very busy with her conversations, her antics and her lengthy stories.  For Christmas this year, they came up for just over a week.  They spent their time mostly at my parents' house, which happens to be right next door to me.

And basically, this is what my time with her consisted of.  On the mower, "driving to the zoo", off the mower, back on the mower over and over and over. 

We always went to the zoo when she drove.  Sometimes we saw different animals, but it was always to the zoo to see animals.

We spent time outside walking around and checking out my winter garden, Pafa's magic bus and looking for pine cones.  A few times, we went into the greenhouse, but the water is off for the winter, so she was sad that we couldn't water anything.

She helped with laundry, played in the hammock and froze in the very cold wind the last day she was here.

It's so great that she has such a wild imagination (clearly inherited from her aunt) that she doesn't need to be entertained and going to places and events isn't really necessary at this point. 

We took a trip to the barn so she could have a pony ride.

She was more than ecstatic.  I think just walking out to get him would have satisfied her but bringing him in and then getting to ride him was fantastic. 

She had it stuck in her mind that she would ride Jackson.

Since he's a little tall, I let her go with me to get him and bring him in.  She thought that was excellent.

And then she told me she would "pull" me when I was on Jackson, just like I did for her on her pony.   See, active imagination!

This is the best age.   Old enough to talk and be understood and young enough to think that a piece of dust is entertaining.  And that switching the heads on the mermaid Legos is the funniest thing I could do. 

Everyone needs a permanent 3 year old in their life.  Just for the comic relief. 

1 comment:

  1. I haven't ridden a horse since I was about 6. She is a lucky little girl.

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