It had a nice little collection of fresh-from-the-store quiet play activities and a couple new books to read, not to mention the joy of it's surprise arrival and the act of opening to help lift the spirits of my presumed lethargic and crummy feeling child.
Well, she was excited to open it.
And then barely played with any of it (although Adrianna had a blast with the purple tissue paper), refused to even let me crack a book to read to her (not to mention anything from the absolutely overflowing bookcase of books in the playroom we could have used), and spent most of her Codine laden recovery driving a Little Tykes car up and down the pediatrics wing hallways like she was auditioning for Nascar while I chased after her with the IV bag.
Oh, and eating ice cream.
But, as part of my careful (and ultimately unneeded) preplanning, I even put a sweet little note on the bag for her, thinking I might steal it back later to stick in her babybook.
You know, assuming I someday FIND her babybook again and get around to updating it. Or that cute scrap book that had a total of 3 pages done in it before never being touched again, it could certainly go in that as well with some cute pictures of her eating ice cream.
(Dearest Adrianna, you do HAVE a babybook, which I think I may have even managed to write your name in, and I really do have plans of making an equally undone scrapbook for you too.)
And then, I noticed something....
|Feel better soo!|
Apparently I was writing quickly and forgot some slight details in regards to spelling.
Perhaps it wont make it's way into the babybook after all.