Rain and More Rain

It rained all day today, without a break, and it was in the low-40s. We were housebound and freezing. But we made the most of the day, proving once again that the restorative peace of this place is powerful enough to take effect even when the day involves a trip to Wal-Mart. We knew the only way to survive the day was to get out of the house, so after a pancake breakfast this morning we headed into West Lebanon for some Wal-Mart shopping. It was pouring, and Greta fell asleep in the car, so Lucia and I took a side trip into the Dollar Tree while Greta got a few more minutes of rest. (We emerged with two smiley flower wands.)

We bought some rainy-day provisions at Wal-Mart—Play Doh, markers, and paper—and then headed to the local mall, the Powerhouse, where the girls chased each other and ooh’d and aah’d over the mall’s décor of umbrellas hanging from the ceiling. The girls have gotten to a stage where they’re just able to have so much fun together—and it’s not misbehaving exactly, since they’re just being kids and having a great time, but since it does involve a lot of running and squealing and screaming, it tends to get a little out of hand in public places. Pretty soon, we knew it was time to head home.

After lunch and nap/quiet time, we read books and then got out the Play Doh. There was some running and squealing; there were some gleeful jail-breaks toward the stairs. Soon it was time for dinner, and we piled into the car to go to the local pizza place, where the girls were overcome by the large space and sprinted from arcade games to gumball machines to bathrooms over and over again. They did manage to eat some pizza, too. They loved “playing” the race-car game in the arcade most of all.

Then we came home and watched “Sofia the First” on the iPad, and then I did some writing and reading and Andrew continued working on his chair project. Somehow we survived the cold, rainy day.

A side note: Lucia has taken to saying a new phrase: “The only problem is…” She says this in response to absolutely anything we say, beginning with a contemplative “Well…” as she considers our words. A few days ago, back home, when I suggested she eat more of her hot dog, which she’d specifically requested for dinner, she said, “Well…The only problem is, I don’t like hot dogs.” Yesterday, when we said she had to put on her sweater since it was so cold, she said, “Well…The only problem is, I don’t want to wear it.” A problem indeed.