Down By The River
I called for a sabbath last Saturday. I needed it.
But by the time Husband helped a friend paint, and then we were late for a lunch meeting (that Meatball fussed all the way through), it was too late for an hour drive up to the lake beach we like.
So we hit up a forest preserve in the next town that we like too. There’s a great patch of grass, mostly in the sun but not without shade when you need it, that drops off pretty abruptly to a small, very clean, little river.
I got to lay around for an hour or so and read (remember books?!), while the boys went exploring down the river.
The Meatball is not very fond of cold water, but he did very well. Husband dipped his toes in for a while, then sat him on the shore, then butt-deep, then tummy-deep, then moobs-deep. He was splashing around and inspecting underwater plants before long.
(He was so into those slimy plants, he could hardly be bothered to smile at the camera, despite all my singing and snapping and splashing. “Whatever, mom – slimy rocks.”)
Oh, and he may or may not be a water-bender.
And then we hung out for a bit while Husband went to find water snakes.
Our little man gets so quiet and meditative when he’s outside (usually) that I always wonder what he’s thinking. It’s like he’s listening to something very gentle that I don’t hear. He’ll sit and watch the trees direct the wind, or he’ll concentrate on a puzzle (this time it was getting the plastic bags out of the dispenser), and be quietly content for some time – sighing occasionally like the story he’s listening to took a sad turn.
There were no snakes to be found on Saturday, sadly, but the boys did make a friend who invited them to help him look for minnows, and to compliment his swim shorts, and to go on a hike – the later of which they explained that his mom and dad probably wouldn’t approve of.
It wasn’t an all-day, but it was a nice late-afternoon. The mosquitos pushed us out as soon as the sun started to dip beneath the tree tops. I may have read more if I had been so distracted by these cheeks.
They’re just begging to be kissed. All the time. And I’m kind of a glutton when it comes to baby cheeks.
Spits and Wiggles 