2/8/1999
Monday

Storytime

It snowed a little last night and through the morning, just enough to coat all the branches of the trees and frost the grass. Our drive to the university was beautiful, especially with the big, fluffy flakes that continued to fall.

Today was Daniel's first day back to school after going home sick last Thursday. He seemed excited to see everyone, and Miss Dawn hugged him and asked how he was feeling.


I took the twins to the story hour at the library today. There were about a dozen other toddlers, most of them younger than my boys. Some of the kids were sitting on carpeted mats, but Stephen and Matthew wanted to sit with me on the chairs. The story lady was a jolly, round, frizzy haired woman who genuinely seemed to love kids, or else she was putting on a good act. We talked a little bit before the story hour began. She told me she always wanted six sets of twins. Whenever anyone tells me they wanted to have twins, I always want to ask, "Why???"

The story lady read two Valentine's books; unfortunately the pictures in both books were small and hard to see where we were sitting. After the stories, they sang songs with hand movements: "Itsy Bitsy Spider," "I'm a Little Teapot," and one I'd never heard called, "Open/Shut Them." This must be the regular routine; many of the kids were ready to sing the songs and knew all the words. Then the kids were directed towards the tables to make valentines with construction paper, glue sticks, crayons, and stickers. The boys, Matthew especially, loved this part.

When it was time to pick up the crayons and get ready to leave Stephen threw a fit, which was kind of embarrassing. I had to carry him over to the window away from the other kids and tell him that we wouldn't come back to story time next week if he didn't settle down. He quieted down then. I think he is still feeling a little sick.

We browsed among the children's books before we left the library. Matthew spotted the Babar books and was charmed by the drawings of elephants. I'd never read them, though I know they're classics, so we sat down at a table and I began to read it to the twins. Within the first few pages, Babar's beloved mother is shot and killed by hunters. Babar, in trying to escape the hunters, ends up in a large city where he immediately forgets about his slain mother and begins worrying that he doesn't have nice clothes like everyone else. How very French! I lost interest in the Babar books at that point.



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