On Saturday Gunnar had the rare privilege of playing by himself. I know, privilege? Well, between sharing a room with Sawyer and Greta being here 24/7 when he’s home from school, that doesn’t leave much alone play time. And he was so thrilled that no one was going to knock his creations down. No one was going to lick his legos. No one was going to spill juice on his paper. No one was going to step on his figurine. And by no one, you know the two no ones I am referring to.
I walked in his room and saw this whole city set up. Apparently it was not a city, but a battlefield. It made me smile that he was savoring his alone time. Kind of like how I savor my alone time. I get him. And I think he gets me.
Today I was at the beach a few minutes early before I took Gaby’s pregnancy photos(sneak peeks to come soon, promise) and I honestly didn’t really know what to do. I was kind of lost, alone I mean. It was strange to not have to worry about someone drowning in the ocean. That I could actually walk to the shore and not freak about someone else. Maybe the nice volleyball players took my “savoring my alone time” look for. . . I don’t know, a “please come hit on me” look. And in all honesty, those two looks are not the same. Not even close. Well, because I don’t possess a “please come hit on me” look. I usually possess the “dear god, these children are going to kill me if I cannot get them all in the car and buckled in the next 4 minutes without someone biting someone else” look. So I am guessing that the rest of humanity has never been introduced to my “savoring my alone time” look. And now they have. Volleyball players, as cute as you were, stay away. Got it?
I obviously don’t have any photos of my alone time, because obviously I would have had to ask someone else to take the photo and I was not about to entertain a conversation.
But here are some of Gunnar’s alone time.