Today the weather allowed the postal worker to deliver our mail, after which Chris brought me an unusual package from Moscow, asking me if I knew anything about it. We began feeling pretty nervous, remembering those many newscasts during the Unabomber's reign of terror about how to recognize a suspicious package. We had no idea why we were receiving a package from Moscow of all places, it was registered mail and was encrusted in labels, and it was wrapped in heavy brown paper and twine.
The package even had weird red streaks (more than in this photo) that were either red marker or blood (our paranoid minds wondered). We were quite wary of our opening the package and Chris got the idea that I should email every international friend we know to see if any of them sent us the package. Then I remembered that I had told my father two months ago that I wanted the children to have Russian nesting dolls. My dad is just the thoughtful type to listen carefully to a special gift request and to get me authentic Russian nesting dolls, since that is what I asked for.
I contacted my dad and he said yes, we should open the package: it was from him!
Mary began cooing about how this one was the mama, this one was the baby, this one another baby . . . . The children are really enjoying the seven beautiful dolls and played with them for a solid half hour before being interrupted.
During potty training at this cold winter time, I have Mary wearing John's long tee-shirts and Baby Legs, which are leg warmers designed for diaper-clad babies and toddlers (make diaper-changing much easier). She refuses to wear socks or slippers in the house, but it's 68-70 degrees in here, so I figure she's not suffering much, no matter how much snow we can see through the windows!