It is going well, I suppose.
Summer was all visiting family, splash pads and trips to the park. The library also made it into the rotation every few weeks. The library. So many books to misplace, so many shelves to get lost between. This summer was better than last. I’m only out fifty dollars in late fines and Viola only became lost enough for my voice to HIT THIS PITCH while calling her name a mere three times. So you know, progress.
Fall is already cloaking us in color, so today we moved ourselves out of the house and into the open. A few last gulps of warm air and green grass before the winter comes. As we moved from story time to park to library to ice cream cones, I found myself wondering what my girls will take from their childhood. I know much of what motherhood has given me. I can tick off its gifts and curses on my freshly bit nails. But I don’t yet know what childhood will leave with my girls.
It worries me.
After dinner we sat on the porch and watched the clouds swirl around the mountains like finely spun threads of grey sugar. As I watched nature move, I touched the small hands beside me, needing to protect them from a threat that wasn’t there. Lightening lit the space around us and the thunder laughed with my little girls as they darted up and out onto the lawn. The rain came as those big fat drops that seem to hover rounded for just an instant before bursting onto the ground. Those babies of mine spent the next half hour in the downpour. Laughing and running and dancing and rolling on the grass. They held hands and shouted with wonder into the wet and flashing light.
I sat on that dry porch with tears in my eyes. This, I thought, this is what childhood will give my girls.
Thank the Lord.