Rainy Day

I dread rainy days.  Rainy days mean we're stuck inside.  Being stuck inside usually means that the mess, destruction, and whining levels all go through the roof.  So, when I saw two rainy days in a row on last week's forecast, I knew I was in for a challenge. 

Rainy days call for a change of pace.  For lounging in pajamas and watching garbage trucks do their thing on youtube.

For deciding that sometimes messes can be beautiful.

Rainy days call for structured morning naps.  At home.  In a crib.  Because it's possible, for once.

 

Rainy days call for blowing bubbles indoors.

For granting a request for a slice of bread.  And then another.  And then another.  Until five(!) slices of bread and two slices of cheese later, you realize that lunch has been had on the run, and although you now may desperately need to vacuum, at least there's no highchair tray to clean.

Rainy days call for homemade play-doh.

And lots of looking on.

For extended sink play.  And at last getting your hands on that sponge you covet.

Rainy days call for only shedding your pajamas, piece-by-piece, as they get too dirty or wet to be tolerated any longer, until--at long last!--you're eating a corndog and peas in your "diap."  Which means it's suppertime.  Which means it's all downhill from here.

Rainy days call for celebration!