A Barefoot Day

Yesterday was pretty great.  We had a wonderful time playing. at home. all day.  

I would like to ask those women of grown children what they remember about their time with babies?  When they think about their days taking care of toddlers, what is it that they picture?

I finally got the tripod working, so I have taught Burl how to stand behind the camera, push the button, and run jump in the picture.  He's so proud of himself when it works.

Recently I talked to someone with adult children and several grandchildren.  She was laughing as she told us what she remembers from those days: she had three or four children and a set of newborn twins.  The older children would pile in her lap and around her and on top of her with books as she nursed the babies (both at the same time).  She was laughing while she told it, and so was her adult daughter.  I asked her what she remembered about those days.  I can't remember what she said, but I remember she was smiling a lot and looked very happy.  Then, I asked her what kind of mom she was during that crazy time.  Was she a mom who let the standards slip and she just played with the kids, or did she run a tight ship and manage to do it all?

I respect this mom, and I know that whatever answer she gave that she did a good job raising her children.  This is how she responded: she paused for a moment and said, "I managed to do it all and get everything done and I regret it."  Meaning, she ran a tight ship and she wish she just rode the waves, and I get that.  

Yesterday, I rode the waves.  I let the day take us wherever it wanted.  Usually our days are a good balance of structure and unscheduled time, as well as staying in our home and going on fun or mundane outings (adventures or errands).  Rarely are we gone all day.  And once in a while, we'll have an entire day at home.   I think that's going to change.

Yesterday was full of joy and excitement, and I think that I'm going to try and enforce a little staycation into our lives every once and a while.  It's just too good not to.  

Sometimes he needs to take a break and just recline for a minute.

A key ingredient for a good day at home is having someone come over.  Burl is all about having friends over to play.  He's been known to ask for specific people to come to "uh my home."  Yesterday, I called my sister-in-law to see if she wanted to bring the kids over to play.  Burl's three cousins came over, and he enjoyed them so much, he always does.  This boy might look like his daddy, but his personality is all mama!  He needs his people, and he prefers family every time.  He might love some time at home, but he needs a good element of people to make it exciting.  

They were here for less than two hours, and Burl enjoyed it.  He talked about it after they left.  He told John what they played with while they were here.  To see Burl love and enjoy people is such a cool thing.  If there is something that this life is about, it's people.  People matter.  We need each other.  He's getting it.

Fern loves mealtime.  She also loves the camera.  She was being a bit somber, then I grabbed the camera to take a picture and she flashed this rowdy smile.

The other thing that he's getting is playtime.  Fern is too.  Fern is content to sit in the floor and go from toy-to-toy, putting them in her mouth.  I think that I can officially say that she is crawling now, but only short distances.  For the most part, she stays in a little plot of carpet and plays with nearby toys.  

Burl asked for his big boots.  Even though it messed with the title of this blog post, I allowed it.  It really completed the full scene of what he's doing here.  Collecting toys in the cart? Nope.  Loading sticks in the wheelbarrow.  

Burl, well he is getting more purposeful and more imaginative with his play.  Yesterday he made leaps and bounds.  With loads of unscheduled playtime, Burl sunk deeper and deeper into his imagination and intention.  He was busy.  All day long.  He was active.  All day long.  He played harder and better than I've ever seen him play.  I give the credit to time.  The more time he has to devote to playing, the more his mind can focus on the possibilities of his toys.

The next two pictures almost make me weep.  We were sitting in Burl's room, which we do often.  I'm usually sitting there with a cup of coffee, keeping an eye on what Fern puts in her mouth, and occasionally participating on whatever Burl asks me to do.  I used to feel bad that it was that easy to play with my kids.  I felt like I should be engaging both of them, sweeping their imaginations into the wonderful land of make-believe, and making them laugh and wonder how I got to be such a cool mom.  However, I've decided that it's ok to let them drive the car.  I sit there and enjoy them.  I watch them play.  When Burl wants me to be involved, I'm there to do it.  

Yesterday, I noticed that all the toys were off of Burl's shelves and on the floor and I thought it would be a funny picture to take of all those toys scattered on the floor.  I went in the hallway, got completely flat on the floor and snapped some pictures.  

Mamas out there: can I please beg you to take an awkward moment and get on the floor and take a picture like this?  Don't stand and point the camera down, don't squat low.  Put that tummy on the floor and get on their level.  It will melt your hearts.  I don't see the funny amount of toys on the floor.  I see those two babies of mine.  Being babies. On their level. 

This is what I think that I'm going to remember when they're grown.  Playing on the floor.  Toys everywhere.  They are just babies being babies and I love them for it.

When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I used to say barefoot and pregnant.  They laughed and I explained that I wanted to wear maternity dresses and have babies and children run around the house all day.  Yesterday was one of those days from my childhood dreams {except I'm currently not pregnant.}.  Besides my morning run and going to see the midnight showing of Batman {with the youth group at church-and losing a lot of sleep}, I was barefoot.  And it was great.

And those pretty hydrangeas that have showed up twice?  They're a fresh bouquet that I cut yesterday morning.  The debri on the table was left by the previous bouquet that died and fell apart.  I left the mess there and only replaced the flowers.  It's kinda of like a really lame symbol of the day: leave the mess and focus on the beautiful things.

In several years, I'm not going to remember the few little messes.  I'm going to remember {and very much miss} the sweet times we just played at home.