Warmer weather means kids finally get to play outside.
It also means less arguments with siblings from being couped up, and as a result, much happier parents.
Last Saturday, the weather was nice enough that both boys ventured outside jacket-free to join their neighbor friends and breathe some fresh air. My oldest, who is 7, asked me to come along. Of course, I had a long list of things to do…laundry, scrub toilets, and go through the mail, but that could wait. So, I joined my first-born out back and for a brief time, got to be a kid again.
Griffin and I hit the swings, and tried to see how high we could go, aiming our feet for the few clouds in the sky. We walked to the top of the hill in our backyard, and rolled down it, laughing at the leaves stuck in our hair when we got to our feet. We grabbed twigs and pushed them into the ground, then made a wish on one that could have been mistaken for a wishbone. He got the bigger piece, by the way. Against my better judgement and after a little begging from Griff, I climbed the few steps that led to his treehouse, and sat at the top of our fort with my son, looking down at the world below. Even my youngest wondered what happened to his mother’s sanity, shouting, “Mooooom, what are YOU doing up there?”
Griffin asked if I would go down the slide, and I told him I was probably too big for that. Not to mention that our neighbors just might think I’ve lost it. Something about the look on his face told me I would be sliding anyway. And sure, I’m 36, but somehow I remember the slide being a little longer before touching the ground.
I hugged Griffin before heading back inside and told him I was proud to have him for a son. He told me I was the “best mom he’d ever had.” And the only one if anyone’s keeping track.
I eventually returned to dishes and laundry, but it was nice to be a kid again.
Sure beats scrubbing toilets.