In an effort to make up for long days of winter (movies, indoor play, Netflix that repeats episodes of Paw Patrol without my even being in the room, early bedtimes and cabin fever), I am opening the door in the morning and hollering the kids in at dinnertime. Between then, we might come in to use the washroom, have afternoon naps and eat meals at our table. Our morning and afternoon walks to school and a good run every other day keeps me feeling alive and connected to my outside world. The girls, though, they are flourishing in these whole days spent outside.
They play independent of my instruction or involvement for hours. I set them up, referee as needed, and they are happily occupied with the outside world. It makes me so happy to see these scenes, and then, curses, I second-guess if I was doing something wrong all winter by not making enough effort to play outside. But, no. I wasn't. It was just cold and forbidding and we hibernated. The yang to that yin is just the way things are, at least in this climate. As Montell Jordan tells me from my speakers, This Is How We Do It.
I took the girls to a great park tucked away in my Grama's neighbourhood that, as kids, we called Goldilocks Park. The trees are beginning to bud, so the warm sun had a chance to poke through sparse branches and warm our pale skin. We came without snacks or toys, and those girls happily played all morning long. Should we move to California, and have parks and al fresco art days all year long? I wonder.
I'm all about gardening and metaphors inspired by plants these days, so how about: Bloom where you are planted. Forget the winter that has passed, don't think about how these warm days are impermanent, just bloom, right here, under the sunny skies of spring. Dream of popsicles, pool parties, barbecuing, hikes, flowers, vine-fresh tomatoes, sunscreen smell and adventure.