This weekend we took the boys to the kids’ art museum in Tribeca. Last time we were there Arthur was too little to do much of anything, but this time around both boys had fun. There is tons of stuff for little hands to explore, and now that we’re past the stage where Arthur will just shove paint brushes into his mouth – we are good.
And then there was the ball pit. We let them run wild with the hopes of getting them good and tired. And yes, there was a massive meltdown when we left (thanks, Julian) about Cheerios (or lack thereof) and lots of complaints about being “soooo tired.”
An hour later I found Julian snoring on our couch at home. He was just “resting,” of course. Every time when he has me convinced that he doesn’t need his nap anymore, this happens. He still naps 5 out of 7 days of the week. At school he sleeps every time, or so I’m told.
Saturday night we ordered in. Tacos, chips & guac, quesadilla. And then we let the boys stay up. That never happens. I am pretty strict when it comes to bedtime. I think it’s because a) I’m a sucker for schedules (German much?) and b) being home with them all day means that bedtime is precious. It’s the holy two hours between their bedtime and mine (yes, I know, sad. I go to bed at 10pm. Except when I go to bed at 9pm). Anyway, they were playing and playing, and it was adorable. And peaceful. And then we made them go to bed.
On Sunday we took the boys to the book store and picked up this magical gem. The book of all books. The holy grail. A picture book on subway cars. They will not put it down.
And then today: more snow! It was actually a pretty nasty day…lots of ice and snow and cold. But get this: my boys love it. They complain about the cold like nobody’s business, but once you add snow to the mix, all bets are off.
They eat it, they throw it, they collect it inside of their boots. Arthur looked like a passed out marshmallow man on the subway ride home from picking Julian up from school.