Elizabeth (greyautumnrain) wrote,

A Good Friday

I had Friday off from work, and since nailing people to large wooden objects isn’t my thing I took the kids out for a day of outings and errands.

Our first stop, once I managed to get us all fed and dressed, was Drumlin Farm. The kids love going to Great Brook Farm to see the “sheep and goats”, and I’d heard another mother talking about Drumlin recently and decided to try it out. Great Brook is a state park, so it’s free (mostly, it costs $2 to park), and you can spend a quarter on little alfalfa pellets to feed the livestock, but it’s 40 minutes away for us and the conditions the animals are kept in are less than idyllic. The conditions aren’t necessarily bad, but I always feel sorry them because the enclosures are smallish and really muddy with no green growing things. Drumlin charges admission ($7 for adults, $5 for kids) and you can’t feed the animals, but they are only 25 minutes away from us, they have many more animals, and it was clean and grassy and well-kept.

Margaret and Duncan had a great time at Drumlin, in spite of it being rather chilly. I really should have dressed them in full coats, but I made the classic error of dressing the kids for the previous day’s weather. Luckily they were warm enough once they started running around.

Margaret believes that two shawls are the way to go, which is good news for those of us who have been bitten by the shawl knitting bug.

Duncan is really starting to outgrow the beloved dinosaur coat, which is hardly surprising given it’s a 24 month size. I need to get cracking on my ravelry queue and knit him a Steggie to replace it.

Luckily there were also rocks to climb. It’s not a good trip unless rocks are climbed.

As promised, there were lambs. Duncan was much happier about the animals here, probably because the “don’t feed the animals” policy means that these critters have not been trained to see toddlers as treat vending machines and keep a respectful distance.

Duncan really enjoyed riding the cut-out pony, which was a hit with Margaret too, but she preferred trying to milk the cut-out cow.

We saw cows, sheep, goats, a pony, a really huge pig, more breeds of chicken than I can easily remember, owls, hawks, crows, ravens, foxes, rabbits, and probably some other stuff I am forgetting.

On the drive back to Somerville from Drumlin Duncan fell asleep, so Margaret and I grabbed a late lunch before my doctor’s appointment. Duncan woke up just as we were heading out to see the doctor, so there was a delay while I got him food. I was worried that would make me late to my appointment, but I arrived on time, only to spend over twenty minutes in the waiting room. Sigh. It might have been longer, but towards the end I had to concentrate on keeping Duncan from running to the pediatrics waiting room to see the fish.

Margaret had lobbied hard to go with me to the doctor the last time I had an appointment, but I hadn’t wanted to take her or tell her about Epsilon until we got the amnio results. Coincidentally the NP I saw last visit had mentioned really wanting to see Margaret and Duncan. With Epsilon looking good on the genetic front, and with the appointment falling on a day off anyway it was the perfect time to take the kids in with me. Both my regular OB and the NP got to see the kids, and upon request my doctor wheeled in the portable ultrasound so that Margaret could see “inside Mommy”. She got a good view of a head, a hand and an arm. I’m not sure if she really understands about there being another baby inside me. It’s a little hard to tell what is going on inside her head sometime. I’m mostly glad that she doesn’t feel the urge to vocalize every little thought she has, but it does make it harder to know what she knows and what needs more explaining. She’s not big on asking questions either. Ah well. Duncan was less interested in seeing inside Mommy, preferring to spend his time in the doctor’s office proving how unnecessary most of the paperwork in my 20 week packet was. I don’t really need a six page handout on why it’s better to breastfeed my baby when I’m still nursing my 26 month old.

We were nearly home from the doctor’s appointment when Margaret nagged me about rope. She’d found this really nasty length of rope at MIT a couple of weeks ago and thought it was just the greatest thing in the world. It has since been lost. I wasn’t the one who “lost” it, but if another adult in the household was they have my thanks. Anyway, she really, really wanted replacement rope, and I had foolishly promised to get her a jump rope if the Drumlin gift shop had one (which they didn’t, they had lots of overpriced other stuff and a grumpy worker who objected to some older kids playing appropriately with the toy tractors before deciding which ones to purchase; if you go to Drumlin skip the gift shop.) Margaret wasn’t going to put up with ending the day without a rope, so I turned the car around and we spent another 45 minutes at the toy store where a jump rope was purchased. I suspect Margaret has no interest in jumping rope. I worry that as soon as she learns to tie knots Duncan needs to look out.

All in all it was a pretty darn good day. I found the last half hour of it a bit much, as extracting the kids from the toy store after such a full day was a bit more than I was really in the mood for, but they had fun.

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