The Dog Days of Spring
From a four year old's perspective, spring is old news. The bulbs are blooming, leaves are sprouting on the trees, the weather is no longer cold but cool, and playtime outside every day is a given. Easter has come and gone and so has most of the candy. When was it not spring?
Every morning E wakes up and asks, "Is it summer today, Mama?" or "When can we go swimming?" or "When can I wear short sleeves and no coat?" How quickly kids forget! Just weeks ago she was asking, "Is it spring today, Mama?" or "When will the snow melt?" or "When will the leaves come back again?" I have to keep reminding her that we've only had spring here for a couple of weeks. I think she was hoping for something better than gray rainy days one on top of the other, and wind, wind, wind strong enough to swing a door open with a small girl still attached to its handle.
The last two days have been glorious despite some clouds and wind. Temperatures in the 70s called us outdoors for long stretches of time and motivated us to call friends to join in the fun. In a sudden burst of little girl joy, A zoomed around the yard on sturdy legs laughing for the pure fun of it, the freedom of it. I couldn't help but join in.
E spent time with a pair of binoculars watching a mother bird sit on her nest that was safely tucked in a neighbor's roof gutter. Apparently E imparted some careful instructions to mother bird regarding her birdly duties. My girl even knows how to boss the birds.
K made squinchy faces at every breeze and napped soundly while we dug in the garden, which is where our Early Intervention coordinator finally found us after a neighbor saw her knocking on our door and kindly pointed her to the backyard. We had our meeting next to the pea shoots.
I mention all this because the backdrop to our day involved two sick kids and a mama who has been without her wheels for a week (thanks to some poor service at a dealership.). Organizing our lives around one borrowed minivan for the last week has taken some juggling to best circus clowns and a great deal of patience on everyone's part--even the girls, who obliged me when the only beverage I could offer them all day was water, water, water (We are spoiled aren't we? When we can turn up our noses at fresh, clean water?) because we hadn't been to the store in all that time.
Being trapped at home hasn't been all bad; we've had some fun waiting for summer to arrive. There's a lot to discover in your own backyard when you're four and two. When we don't have anywhere to be, when I can't make up fictional errands to get us out of the house, we're forced to use our imaginations at home. Watching the girls roam free with only their own free spirits to guide them is refreshing. When they tired of drinking water, they decided the ants looked a little parched and fed them some from sippy cups. After the drowning, E decided the ants needed a little bling and colored a few with blue sidewalk chalk. They were the fanciest dead ants on the block.
But my favorite line of the day: "Mommy, Audyn fell out of the stroller in the garage, but she's OK. She's just crying because she wants special things."
At dinner I asked her, "Do you ever do that, Emelyn?"
"No!...Sometimes. See?" And she promptly produced a very convincing cry, then shut it off with equal precision, like stopping the flow of water coming out of the tap. On. Off. Grin.
Out of the mouths of babes.
How do you cure your dog days?
Every morning E wakes up and asks, "Is it summer today, Mama?" or "When can we go swimming?" or "When can I wear short sleeves and no coat?" How quickly kids forget! Just weeks ago she was asking, "Is it spring today, Mama?" or "When will the snow melt?" or "When will the leaves come back again?" I have to keep reminding her that we've only had spring here for a couple of weeks. I think she was hoping for something better than gray rainy days one on top of the other, and wind, wind, wind strong enough to swing a door open with a small girl still attached to its handle.
The last two days have been glorious despite some clouds and wind. Temperatures in the 70s called us outdoors for long stretches of time and motivated us to call friends to join in the fun. In a sudden burst of little girl joy, A zoomed around the yard on sturdy legs laughing for the pure fun of it, the freedom of it. I couldn't help but join in.
E spent time with a pair of binoculars watching a mother bird sit on her nest that was safely tucked in a neighbor's roof gutter. Apparently E imparted some careful instructions to mother bird regarding her birdly duties. My girl even knows how to boss the birds.
K made squinchy faces at every breeze and napped soundly while we dug in the garden, which is where our Early Intervention coordinator finally found us after a neighbor saw her knocking on our door and kindly pointed her to the backyard. We had our meeting next to the pea shoots.
I mention all this because the backdrop to our day involved two sick kids and a mama who has been without her wheels for a week (thanks to some poor service at a dealership.). Organizing our lives around one borrowed minivan for the last week has taken some juggling to best circus clowns and a great deal of patience on everyone's part--even the girls, who obliged me when the only beverage I could offer them all day was water, water, water (We are spoiled aren't we? When we can turn up our noses at fresh, clean water?) because we hadn't been to the store in all that time.
Being trapped at home hasn't been all bad; we've had some fun waiting for summer to arrive. There's a lot to discover in your own backyard when you're four and two. When we don't have anywhere to be, when I can't make up fictional errands to get us out of the house, we're forced to use our imaginations at home. Watching the girls roam free with only their own free spirits to guide them is refreshing. When they tired of drinking water, they decided the ants looked a little parched and fed them some from sippy cups. After the drowning, E decided the ants needed a little bling and colored a few with blue sidewalk chalk. They were the fanciest dead ants on the block.
But my favorite line of the day: "Mommy, Audyn fell out of the stroller in the garage, but she's OK. She's just crying because she wants special things."
At dinner I asked her, "Do you ever do that, Emelyn?"
"No!...Sometimes. See?" And she promptly produced a very convincing cry, then shut it off with equal precision, like stopping the flow of water coming out of the tap. On. Off. Grin.
Out of the mouths of babes.
How do you cure your dog days?