The poor blog has been slightly neglected most of the winter...I had several things I wanted to write about, but I was just too busy trying to keep the little people from self-destructing to bother with it. Needless to say, we are all glad spring is finally upon us (even though it's too cold for my liking today)! Being cooped up in the house is no good for anyone around here.
A few weeks ago, we started having some nice days here and there and, as always, the hub's wheels started turning and he began scheming about outdoor projects (okay, I was too...just a little). One of these required that a truck be able to get into the backyard so he thought, "what the heck, I'll just take the back fence down!" I discovered this one afternoon when the girls were napping and I wandered outside to see what he was up to. Imagine my surprise when I walked onto the back porch and found that there was now no enclosure to keep the kiddies from the vast beyond...err...neighborhood. I deep breathed and didn't freak out, but knew I would have to be on red alert anytime we were outside. If you know Jellybean, that little escape artist is fast and she doesn't have the sense to stay away from the street yet.
Well, the fence is still down, although Clint started the process of replacing it over the weekend. I have to say, though, that it's turned out surprisingly well. See, we have this field just beyond where the fence used to be, and the first time the girls ran outside you could see what they were thinking: Jackpot! It's kid-heaven: grass, some trees, piles of dirt, lots of dandelions and hen-bit...the kind of "weeds" the husband hires people to keep out of our own yard. I wouldn't mind at all a yard full of the stuff, but then I'm a sentimental sap and they remind me of things like countless hours making clover chains when I was a kid...Clint isn't so much, so our yard is free of them. But in the field, the girls can blow white dandelions to their heart's content, and bring me all the yellow ones to save in my pocket for later.
So we've been on daily, weather-permitting, excursions to explore the field. Cbear's favorite thing about playing in the field was (and still is) the discovery of cacti (am I the only person who didn't know cactus grows here? This is hardly the desert.) dotting the field. Also, does anyone else feel ridiculously pompous when using the plural form of cactus? I was just wondering...because I do.
Anyway, after countless admonitions to not touch it with her hands, Cbear's favorite activity is to beat/poke the "captus" (as she calls it) with a stick. Of course Jellybean followed suit, so whenever we go outside, Cbear's all, "let's go poke the captus!" and I'm like "Yay! Again!" My children don't appreciate sarcasm yet. It's always the same specific cactus under this one tree that is her favorite to beat. Are my children weird or what? I'm happy to report that Cbear has only fallen into the cactus once, and it was the kind with teeny tiny stickers that required tweezers to remove but didn't draw blood. Nobody was scarred for life...at least I hope not.
This past Sunday was a perfect field-exploring day...well, except for maybe the hurricane force winds. I told Cbear she was going to blow away, and said I was teasing. Then when we got to the top of the hill I actually worried about it...that kid has zero meat on her bones.
Nonetheless, it was warm and sunny, so we headed out. I allowed a little cactus-beating before putting on my most excited voice and pointing out a far-off tree. "Let's go explore by that big tree over there!" If you say it in a high-pitched enough voice, they'll get excited about anything. We skipped around all the cactus and finally found our oasis...the tree was surrounded by little white flowers and soft green grass we could actually sit on without worrying about getting poked in uncomfortable places.
It was one of those moments where time slows down a little and things become very clear. I mean, I know I am a little snarky about my kids sometimes, because, come on, I often need to laugh at the ridiculousness that is my life to keep from crying. I find myself saying things like, "stop licking your sister!" and I just shake my head like, "did that really just come out of my mouth, and more importantly, do I really need to explain this? Shouldn't it be a given that we don't lick others?" But anyway, this was not a moment like that.
I sat in the grass (it's pre-chigger season, so I'm enjoying it while I can!) and watched my girls explore and play. They brought me little flowers, threw grass on me while giggling, and requested I sing silly songs (Like "grass grass bo bass, bananafanafofass, me my mo mass, grass!). We watched butterflies and birds and examined leaves. They dug in the dirt with their sticks. They jumped on top of me and I realized how big they're getting too fast. It made me more than ever wish we lived in the country. And if I couldn't see houses and hear people mowing their lawns, I could almost pretend we were...and since it's probably not going to happen anytime soon (but maybe someday), I'll take what I can get!
I was not thinking about my to-do list, or the piles of laundry and dishes I was neglecting. I was just enjoying a simple moment playing with my kids. Confession: I don't think I do this enough. We all got dirty and itchy, and by the time we got back to the house they smelled like little puppies. And all I could think was,
this is how childhood should be. As much as it makes me cringe sometimes, I'm going to try and let them explore...dig in the dirt, pick flowers, skip through a field...and yes, even poke a cactus with a stick every once in a while. Because, let's face it, a sterile environment is hardly conducive to imagination, but a dirty, grassy, tree-and-flower-and-cactus-dotted field is. And what kind of mama do I want to be? I'm thinking the kind surrounded by sticky, creative, song-making-up, happy kids, with blades of grass in my hair and squished-up dandelions making yellow stains in my pocket.
