(Almost) Summer Lovin

I guess technically it isn’t summer yet, but it sure it feels like it.  Lately, the girls and I haven’t been able to get enough of the outdoors.  We’ve filled the sandbox with sand, planned our daily trips to the park, put a memory card in the camera, and we are good to go!

When we first decided we wanted children, one of the things I looked forward to the most was playing outdoors with them.  Most people found this odd because I was never a summer or an outdoors person, but the thought of running around the yard with kids felt so maternal that I couldn’t help but dream.

Now that I have children, summer is everything that I hoped it would be.  It’s still amazing just how much time the girls can spend outside.  Both girls can find literally hours of entertainment with just a ball and nature.  They play in the sand, ride the big wheels/bikes, collect pine cones, and search out bugs.

And it made me wonder what it is about children and summer that is so exciting.  And I think the answer is possibilities.  When you’re little, the thought of having your whole backyard to play in, and the thought of possibly being able to ride your bike all the way around the block seem huge.  It’s as if you have the whole world is right outside your back door.  To kids, it is as if anything is possible once they are set free outdoors.

We are signing Magoo up for soccer this summer.  It amazes me just how fast time flies.  It seems like almost yesterday that I was worried about bringing newborn her outside for ten minutes a day because there were sun, bugs, wind, and a million other contrived dangers.  I remember how pale her skin was outside, laying on the patio loveseat with blue overalls and a white shirt on.  She was perfect to me.  She still is.  But she’s no longer a little baby.  Where once I was terrified of her going down the slide and falling off, now she’s climbing to the top and jumping off.  And I laugh instead of fret.

And as I was thinking of summers past, I was reminded of the summer she turned one.  I remember having her birthday party in our backyard.  She was walking by that time, but when we took her outside, she learned that she couldn’t climb the hill in our backyard.  She would get two steps up and flop down on her butt.  It was just too steep.  And I remember that October, watching her run up and down the hill, and having to chase her all around the backyard.  No matter how much we might want time to stand still, it always marches on, and it leaves us with only sweet memories.

I am excited when I think about the changes the Goose will undergo this summer, and it has already started.  Just last week, she screamed when we put her near the grass.  She wanted nothing to do with it.  And now, just a week later, she is walking around barefoot in it.

She is already so different than her sister.  Where her sister is calm and deliberate, she jumps head first without thinking.  She is fearless and persistent and tenacious.  My challenge with her is going to be to let her grow and experiment and take risks while simultaneously keeping her safe.  I want to wrap my babies in bubble wrap and keep them safe forever, but I don’t want to clip their wings.  Daily, I stand in awe of what they are willing and able to do.

We know Magoo is going to have fun this summer dancing in a parade and at a festival and starting soccer.  By the end of the summer, she will be getting ready for preschool.  It’s nearly impossible to believe that the time has come.  It has been so much fun over the last year watching her creativity and imagination grow.  My hope is that this summer is a refuge for her, a time when she can be completely free to explore and create and imagine.  I want the freedom of summer to give her already strong wings space to fly and give her dreams space to soar.

A lot will happen this summer.  I’m sure it won’t be perfect, but I’m even more sure that there will be moments of magic.  And that is my goal for this summer.  To recognize those moments and document them, both on film and in my memory.  The summers of childhood are fleeting, but they contain a special kind of magic.  And my hope is that, like me, they will one day look back on their own childhood summers with such fondness that they will be inspired to create the same magic with their own children.  And I hope I will be there to see that as well.

And of course, I can’t end a picture post without a picture of my favorite problem child…