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It seems that we, as parents, are required to have massive toys for both toddlers and babies because the general population tends to frown upon letting babies play with anything not covered in bubble wrap. I’d give Maverick a cardboard box but he turns into a dang billy goat the moment he sees a filet of cardboard.
Grandkids who happen to be the same age as your oldest. Grandkids who love nothing more than playing on your treehouse jungle gym.
Well, okay … I’m sure they love something more than playing with Michael, but you know what I mean.
Once he figured out that they were staying a while, ‘can we go to the park’ was replaced with ‘can I go outside and play with my friends’?
And I have yet to remind him about the park. I’m such a homebody.
I plop him down on his blanket, give him a toy, and supervise from my portable office.
Dad is happy with our backyard activities because the family room is clean(er). Maverick is happy because he has his very own toy to help him develop his fine motor skills. Michael is happy with the lack of slobber covered ‘big kid’ toys. And mom? I’m thrilled to sit at my new desk with a handful of chocolate covered peanuts all to myself.
It’s a beautiful thing.