Petal Shower

March 31

My pear tree let loose a shower of petals today. We looked out the window this afternoon and saw the air full of soft white dots. We ran out and lifted our arms in the breeze. The petals swirled and danced, finally settling on the ground like wedding confetti. I felt like we should put on music and march down our stone path so beautifully adorned.

I love these blossoms and while we are dancing in their midst I feel a pang. Bright green leaves are sprouting high above and I know soon the petals will all be gone. Our tree will move on in the cycle. I know the blossoms will be back next year, they aren't even gone this year, but I miss them. I want to hold on. I want to be able to look out my window every morning and see branches of fluffy white dancing there.

Letting go is hard. I've had lots of practice and it is still hard. My consolation is to dance in the petal shower today. To hold my little one in my arms and twirl her around. Her head leans back and she gazes up at the sky. "Make me fly Mama!" she says. I'm trying little one. I'm trying.

Flower Potion

March 30

Today was an outside day. Egg hunt in the morning, pizza at the outside seating of our favorite restaurant and then a long slow afternoon on the deck.

While my husband napped upstairs my girls got the hose out and started to make Flower Potion. I donated the almost wilted flowers from my vase in the kitchen and they mixed and stirred at their water table. They had a whisk, a wooden spoon and a ladle between them and every few minutes one would call "trade!" I watched them exchange again and again.  How do these gentle rituals begin? How am I so fortunate to have two girls so willing to nurture and support each other. Yes, the older one gets frustrated by the little one following, copying, wanting attention. And the little one gets her feelings hurt. But they run for the Hello Kitty ice pack when there is a bump or bruise. When there are tears I see distress in the other's eyes.

Working the dirt

March 29

No school today. My girls wake up slowly. "I'm board," announces my first grader. My stomach lurches. Ugh, I think, one day off and you are board. Do you really need structure all day every day. No, let's just ride this out a bit. I make a couple of suggestions and then let her be. After a time she starts making a fort in her room. Ah, I think, yes, a fort. They say boredom is good for kids. They say we are over scheduling our kids, taking away the chance for boredom. No time to think and putter.

Later we head outside and my little one decides to make dirt soup. Water, check, soap check, wooden spoon check. Dirt? She asks her sister to get her some dirt. I grab a bucket and we head down to the garden. My first grader grabs the hoe and starts turning the soil the way she's seen her grandfather do so many times. This is his therapy, his quiet thinking time. He heads out almost every day to hoe around his plants. "Have to break the crust so the moisture can soak in at night." Who knew? But I know his ritual is more than helping his garden flourish, it is his time to think and just be outside. I'm glad my daughter is mimicking him, even if she is not meditating on her day as he does. At lease she can enjoy the feeling of working the dirt.

Wings

March 28

I watch my little one through the window of her preschool as she plays outside. I like to arrive a bit early so I can catch a glimpse of her going about her school day.

She loves for me to be the first one to pick her up. I love to see her face as she sees me. I love the feeling of her little body running into my arms. We walk to the bench at the end of the hall and stop for a moment to look at that days creations. She loves words and loves to talk. This is how we reconnect. While my older daughter wants a hug and a snack to feel close again my little one needs a conversation.

When we get home she puts on her purple wings and spends the rest of the afternoon flitting around the house and deck as a fairy. We head outside and play on the swings. She shows me how her wings can flap as she glides back and forth. She narrates our time: talking talking talking. Where do the words come from? How does she find so much to say? "I'm a water fairy, I have powers, watch," she says as she shoots her fingers forward. "But the mean fairies want to take my powers so I have to go like this," she continues crossing her arms. On the story goes. I listen, pushing the swing, marveling at this little person in front of me.

Reading time

March 27

Snuggled under the fuzzy purple blanket we read a story outside today. Morris the Moose is our current favorite. We have it almost memorized and find ourselves reciting long passages in the car in call and response form. Our favorite line is of course the end when Morris says, "I made a MOOSEtake!" This is now our family term for mistake and always brings a smile.

I have a box of books by the easy chair in the living room. Books hand picked by me. Books I love to read again and again. Yes, they are classics like Blueberries for Sal, Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, Make Way for Ducklings, and Caps for Sale. But I've come to see them as part of our family history. These were the books I listened to on my mother's lap and they are just as amusing, fanciful and sweet as they were a generation ago. Each has a reassuring narrative arc. Each brings the readers into a world they would not usually experience. Each gives us characters to relate to and love. Such is the joy and the beauty of literature.

No Brakes

March 26

Sometimes I feel like my little one has No Brakes as the back of her bike says. She is such a ball of energy and emotion. She doesn't nap. She feels everything intensely. She goes and goes and goes.

She thrives when she has time to let her energy free. I'm learning that she needs to get outside in the late afternoon and run and shriek and breath deep breaths of air. I see how much calmer and happier she is as the day winds down when she has been outside.

One of my fears about taking my kids outside every day was that they would never want to go back in. I feared I would be stuck outside with them worrying about how to get dinner cooked. But what I've come to realize is that outside time is part of our family rhythm now. It is part of the flow of our day. And because of the consistency there is less urgency. We play as much or as little as we want. Tomorrow we will be here again.

Dino Bones

March 25

It snowed at bit today! Yes, flakes floating through the air. We ran outside after dinner to see and two tiny flakes drifted onto our bench for a few moments. "That's a snowflake!" shouted my little one. She was dressed in her biggest pink dress, a purple parka, and matching owl hat and gloves. After watching the snowflakes she hopped on her tricycle and peddled around the driveway. I have to say this outfit may be one of my favorites she has ever put together.

Earlier in the day we spent some time on a cold play structure at the Y. The sun was bright but the wind keep our visit brief. We found these Dino bones under one of the slides and spent quite a while analyzing each skeleton. We moved on to playing restaurant taking turns being chef'/server and customer. Wood chips serving as both food and money.