Mary Emma is in school. Tait is in preschool this year - this is her 3rd day. Camille is home. With me. And no playmates.
Today, we have taken Tait to school, gone to gymnastics, and gone to the grocery store. We've been home 5 minutes. She has already started the "Hold you, Mommy " routine (which is Camille-speak for "Hold me, Mommy") and has thrown herself in the floor out of sheer boredom. Twice.
So while I am putting up groceries, I grabbed a red mardi-gras necklace and tossed it. Either my wood floors are crazy clean, or there's a layer of dust on them (I'm not sure which...), but that sucker can slide all the way across the house. And Camille thinks it's hysterical. So she runs and gets it, brings it back to me, and the game starts all over again.
You know, the friendly game of fetch that people typically play with their dogs.
Funny thing is, every time I throw the necklace, Camille says "Don't throw it, Mommy." Yeah, ok. I'd rather go back to the whine and falling in the floor.
So I'm playing fetch with my kid.
I think I'll hold off writing that parenting book.