Today was gorgeous. The weather was absolutely stunning, and as close to flawless as I can imagine it. I suppose this is Mother Nature's way of apologizing for the wreck of a storm she just put us through, but I cannot really imagine such a temperamental being feeling sorry. Regardless, we had the windows open and were revelling in the cool breezes, brilliant sunlight, and the bright blue sky.
Sometime after lunch, I decided it would be a good idea for the rest of the family to go on a walk together. I, quite unashamedly selfishly, wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch in front of the open window and read a book in blissful silence. My husband was amenable to taking the kidlets for a walk, so he organized the potty train, sunscreening, and the putting on of shoes. Just moments before they were to head out, I decided I would much rather go on a walk with my loved ones than sit at home with a book. I rushed to get myself ready, and off we went to take in the stunning weather.
Our town is blessed with a number of sidewalks, and we immediately put them to good use. We went all over the streets near our house, looking at fallen branches and damage to property. We heard the groan of generators in a few of the houses that still lacked power. We saw lawns strewn with wet towels, area rugs, and other sopping items that were laid out to dry. We saw trees down both from the storm and by the hands of the tree services the town called in to do cleanup duty. (The tree at the bottom of our driveway was one such tree that had been removed today by such a service. It had weathered the storm admirably, but that was a miracle. When it was finally cut down, we realized the hole in the middle of its trunk was large enough that the kidlets could have crawled through it.)
Numerous neighbors were out doing cleanup duty to their branch-strewn yards. I overheard one of the teenaged neighbors holler to a much older sounding individual, "You go ask Mom. She won't yell at YOU." I suspected that having her teenaged kidlets stuck in the house with her for a couple of days was a little bit more than the Mom in question could handle. At least that mother was smart enough to put those teens to work cleaning up the yard. There were a number of families out for walks like we were, too. I have the sneaky suspicion that a fair number of us were grateful the hurricane was over and were taking advantage of the well-behaved weather today to get out of the house.
The kidlets were remarkably interested in being outside. They were less interested in traipsing around the neighborhood and talking about the sights we saw. A downed wire caused a bit of concern in our eldest. Our youngest could not quite figure out why a huge branch was balanced on the telephone wires on one of the streets, and seemed disconcerted that it was not actually attached to a tree anymore despite hanging in the air. Our middle child simply decided she was not interested in a walk, and she spent the entire time telling us how tired, thirsty, hot, and bored she was. This is the same kidlet who is capable of jumping up and down, running around the house, and will find any possible excuse to stay in motion almost twenty-four hours a day, so we figured that she would most likely survive this family excursion.
After a number of blocks, my youngest was slowing down. He is four years old and tires quickly. That might be due to his low muscle tone, his tendency to wheeze, or some unknown reason. Right about the point we were at least half a mile from home, he tuckered out. His walk then became a carry. I scooped my son up and we continued on our way, this time with me desperately hoping that we were heading straight home. He was sweaty, heavy, and managed to headbutt me on more than one occasion. However, this was probably one of the last times I will be voluntarily carrying my son. Like it or not, my baby boy is not so little anymore, and he inherited his low muscle tone from me. Despite my own growing exhaustion, I carried him as long as I could, then let his newly recharged self finish up the walk home.
I started thinking about how different my little man is now than when he was a baby. He did not like being carried much then. As he grew a bit older, he seemed to understand that Mommy picked him up in a way in which he could handle. For a kidlet with sensory issues, being held is a tricky proposition. Mommy held him firmly, so the light touches that could freak him out were not an issue. He still did not actively seek out someone to hold him, but he at least knew he would survive if he needed to be carried somewhere. These days, though he walks most places all of his own volition, he has suddenly learned to enjoy being in Mommy's or Daddy's arms. I find myself doing what I can to carry him so I can appreciate suddenly having a little boy who wants his parents to hold him.
These four years have gone by much too fast. It seems odd to me that it took a post-hurricane family walk for me to realize just how quickly my kidlets are growing. I know my oldest is nine, and I cannot fathom where those years went. But with each new kidlet our family acquired, I became busier and busier taking care of more people, and that somehow made me lose track of time. My youngest is four, and the days of me carrying him anywhere are almost gone. But by golly, was I content to enjoy that today.
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