We had an exhausting but wonderful weekend. God granted us some beautiful weather and the kids took full advantage of sunshine and warmer temperatures. Avery and Jack, both, spent the entire day on Saturday playing sidewalk chalk, swinging from the tree in the front yard, riding bikes, scooters and harassing neighbors. It was truly blissful.
Not so much for me who was tasked with keeping Jack alive in the great outdoors. Not so much for the neighbors who were tasked with listening to my kids scream. (There’s just something about nice weather and fresh air that makes kids scream. I haven’t figured out the exact equation, yet, so that I can squash it.)
I love these kinds of days, though. And, clearly, so do my kids. I remember those first few days of beautiful Spring as a kid. There was this amazing feeling of freedom that would wash over my young (read: firm) body. The world was at my fingertips when the sun was shining and the long, dark days of winter seemed to be years away. And my only responsibility was to breathe in the outside air. It was awesome.
As an adult, Spring still carries the same responsibilities as before but has been slightly tainted by the added task of removing a winter’s worth of grime and dust from my furniture and floors. There is just something about that Spring sun which along with bringing a sense of spirit renewal alsocasts a certain unflattering illumination over dirt and debris. I don’t remember that being a part of my day’s preoccupation when I was but a child. Oh, I long for the good ol’ days.
Nor, is it my kid’s concern. Which delights me because adulthood and all its responsibilities come all too soon. I will continue to enjoy watching my kids play to the point of exhaustion, taking full advantage of the energizing Spring sun and then melting into…
blissful slumber in the hallway becausethey just can’t make it allthe way into the bedroom.
I love Spring.