In Southern Illinois, it'd be much easier to count the days it hasn't rained and just off the top of my head, I'd say there's been fewer than ten completely dry days over the past four months. Also, back in Socorro, thunder cracked, while here thunder rumbles and if you're upstairs, it really sounds like something is rolling across the roof.
Today marks the first day that my son might actually play outside by himself.
We've been in this house for twenty-two days and he won't knowingly be on a floor by himself. I've tried to wander off, while he's busy in the playroom, but as soon as he hears me on the stairs, he's right there, behind me.
I'm getting no ghost vibe and he's never said anything specific. He'll simply say "I can't" or "I'm scared" and I've been chalking it up to insecurity from the move, along with the fact that while we were living in hotels, he was never alone.
I have to say that I'm kind of proud that he's voluntarily trying to play outside. Though since I've started typing this post, he's come back to my office three times, but after he says whatever he wanted to express, he's goes back outside.
Maybe if I spent a little time in the kitchen, so he can see me, he'll finally be able to finish the road he's trying to Tonka-up in the drive.