Note to Self |
Saturday, July 26, 2003
Remembering When.....
Do you ever spend lazy summer days, watching your kids frolicking in the backyard, remembering when you would run barefoot through the yard chasing butterflies and bubbles? I did just that today. I sat outside on the deck with a tall iced tea nursing my babe, and watched my children form memories. Bubbles poured from the spout of our leaf blower bubble machine as Kollin cranked it furiously in effort to elicit even more giggles from Kaden as he chased the bubbles across the lawn. Kaden ran one way, through a cloud of bubbles, to get to the one he had his eye on, hoping to catch it before it reached the grass and popped. Just as he stretched his chubby toddler arm out to capture it, the bubble vanished into thin air. Just as suddenly as the bubble popped, Kaden was able to fix his eyes on to his next target and begin a new chase. Kollin was dancing around Kaden, trying his very best to cover his brother in a blanket of bubbles. As I watched them play I was flooded with memories of summer days from my own childhood. It was a hot day as we drug the hose up the ladder of our treehouse. My brother was waiting at the spicket for the signal that he could turn the water on. I, being the oldest of my mother's 'second batch', was the one doing the dragging. Heather, the baby of the batch, was doing her job by staying out of our way while we got it all set up. Finally, I got the hose draped over the edge of the slide, and yelled for Zach to turn the water on. Now, we could jet down the ten foot slide into our wading pool with unprecedented speed. I'll never forget that first trip down. I shot down that slide like an Olympic bobsled team, ending with a giant splash and an extraordinary wedgie. Everyone knows the true test of a good waterslide is the level of wedgie that results. This was a good one. We would spend hours doing this, so many in fact, that my dad dug a hole for our pool, so it wouldn't scoot away from us as we landed. I was snapped out of my trip down memory lane by a sweet little hand caressing my chin. Keaton was grinning at me, my nipple slipping from his mouth as his smile widened. As I smiled back down at him and listened to his brothers chasing bubbles and laughing, my own memories seemed so fresh, so new. I kicked my shoes off , walked on the soft grass, chased bubbles, and remembered what it was like to be a kid again. Note to Self: The magic of childhood has no age limits.
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