One month and counting

It continually bemuses me to reflect that, if Evelyn had gone to term, I might be in the hospital right now having her (she was due tomorrow, after all). And I wonder if, had this happened, she would look like she does now, or if breast milk somehow stimulates growth more (or less) than being nourished by a placenta. A moot point, as it turns out, since she *was* born exactly one month ago today (happy one-month birthday!), and unless I suddenly develop the ability to explore an alternate universe, I'll never know what would have happened if things had turned out differently. I think, on the whole, I'm okay with how things did turn out. Of course, the hospital stay was not the most fun thing we could have done, but it did give me a chance to recover physically from delivery before taking on the other challenges of mothering a newborn.

And a toddler. It's becoming clear to me that poor Andrew (although he doesn't complain) is suffering a little from our relative confinement. I try to take him outside on days that the weather cooperates, but since Evelyn either has to come with us or we have to stay in the yard where I can hear the monitor, our options are pretty limited. Yesterday we went for a walk to a park just down the hill from where we live (Lion's Park, maintained by the Provo Lion's Club, but which Andrew insists on calling the lion park). This is a perfect toddler park--there's really nothing there that's too big for Andrew to tackle, so I don't have to worry to much about letting him go on the playground. Yesterday, there was another little boy just about Andrew's age who was at the park with his dad, and he and Andrew began to play together at once. (My mom reminds me that Andrew is a very social little boy. This is true, although I'm not sure where he gets it from, since neither Dan nor I are the most social people). They were entertained for a good ten minutes by dumping wood chips on the end of one of the slides. I have to admit that I was quite entertained watching Andrew's attempts to direct (read: boss) the other little boy: "Come up the stairs, boy, and come with me through the tunnel," etc. And I loved the sheer delight Andrew took in running, running, running around the playground in unending circles. (It's a good thing he didn't expect me to go with him!). At the very end of our stay at the park, Andrew discovered a puddle of water in the grass and despite my pleas to stay out of the water (I suppose he knew that there wasn't much I could do to stop him, since I had Evelyn strapped in a sling on my chest and couldn't run very well), he proceeded to tromp happily through the puddle four or five times--until his shorts were so soggy with splashing that they started to slide off his bum. At that point, he simply stepped out of his shorts and ran around in his diaper (I wish I had pictures!), and I announced that it was time to go home.

We had another adventure today, although not an entirely pleasant one. While we were playing in the backyard this morning, I saw my neighbor's granddaughter (who's about four) wandering in their backyard. I kept waiting for a grownup to appear with her, but none did. She kept sidling closer to us and finally struck up a conversation, at which point I asked her if her grandmother/mother/father knew she was outside. She responded "no" to all of them. She also told me (if I followed her, which I'm not sure I did), that her grandpa wasn't home, her mom and dad had gone somewhere, and her grandma had gone to girl's camp and would be back "in four minutes." When I asked if anyone else was home, she said that her little brother was asleep inside. Andrew took our conversation as permission to go play in their backyard, so I followed him. While the two of them played, I tried to figure out what to do. I didn't really want to stay outside and play--Evelyn was going to want to eat any minute, and Andrew was playing in their open sand-pit (a natural kitty-litter box if ever I saw one)--but I also didn't want to leave this little girl outside unchaperoned. And I also didn't know if anyone else was home, although I know my neighbors and they're not irresponsible people. Finally, I convinced both kids to follow me and we went and rang the doorbell. No one answered. I started to worry a little more at this point. I took the kids back to our house and fed them a snack (calling the neighbors and leaving a message that I'd done so). Then, I took the little girl back over to her house. She took us upstairs to show us where her little brother was sleeping. Along the way, I saw no evidence of any grown-ups in residence. Feeling rather guilty for not staying (but also needing to go home and feed my daughter), I told her to stay inside with her little brother, but to come over to our house if she needed any help. Once I got home, I tried again to figure out what my responsibility was in a situation like this. If there really were no grown-ups home, then I probably shouldn't leave a four-year old and a toddler home alone--but at the same time, it wasn't really my responsibility and I did need to go home to attend to my own children . . . Anyway, once I got settled in and started nursing Evelyn, I called back and was enormously relieved when the girl's mother (and a childhood friend of mine) answered. Apparently, she'd been home the entire time, but had been putting the little brother down for a nap and had no idea that her daughter had left the house. I'm guessing they'll be having a nice talk about "stranger danger" and leaving the house unchaperoned. I know that I'm pretty innocuous, but it scares me a bit to think that it could have been anyone to find this little girl outside by herself . . . especially since all the neighbors have decided to replace their fences and so the back-yard isn't exactly fenced in. Remind me to have a similar conversation with Andrew!