Now that spring has sprung (I think? These little dips into the 40s overnight recently are freaking me out!), I'm trying to get Nora excited about the great outdoors -- and not just because that's where bubbles happen.
Last month, she learned about insects in preschool, so we've been stopping to admire(?) the caterpillars and ants that have taken up residence on our driveway. Walks around the neighborhood take forever lately because she likes to stop and examine every flower she sees, even the weeds. Especially the weeds. She loves watering the strawberries we planted last month, and it's a big deal when we find one red enough to eat -- especially if we manage to find it before the squirrels do.
So last week, while doing some yardwork during her nap, I was excited to find a bright blue piece of robin's egg in the backyard. It was broken sort of in half, longways, so you could tell it was egg-shaped and see both the inside and outside of the shell. Perfect for a little at-home show-and-tell, I thought! Carefully, I placed the shell on a table on our deck, and when Nora awoke from her nap, I brought it inside and showed it to her on the palm of my hand.
"This," I announced proudly, "is a robin's egg!"
Never miss a local story.
She stared for a moment at the little blue egg in my hand, and then asked "What's in it?"
So I explained, "There used to be a baby robin in here, but it hatched and grew up and flew away."
I turned the egg over so she could see the inside, white and smooth. She considered it another minute, then announced, none too pleased: "There's no prize inside!"
Clearly, the biggest influencer around our house this spring hasn't been the birds or the bees or the caterpillars or the trees: it's been the Easter Bunny.