Saturday, April 26, 2014

Those Rainy Days

There are some days when you just have to ignore the rain, or embrace it depending on your state of mind.  This morning we ignored it and went outside.  Wednesday we embraced it and went outside.  It proved much more empowering to be a participant rather than a bystander.  And, after surviving the snow and the cold of these long winter months, we can do spring rain.    

My little three year old hasn't been herself this past week.  It's hard to know what is going on inside her head and even more of a struggle to know how to best respond.   I had the opportunity to try out the entire variety pack of parental tactics -igmoring, diversion, empathy, and the ugly head-to-head battles.  Our highs were very high and our lows were very low.  She would fully commit to whatever emotion was felt as if we were at acting class.  "Now be really excited!  Okay, this time try it from the depths of despair."  My sister and I decided that it is really hard to be three or five or eight.  It's hard being a kid.  There's a lot you can't do, there is a lot you are told to do.  But there is still a standard of behavior to uphold.  And being an adult is no cake walk either.  Most the time I would like to be throwing a fit.
But even with all of the ups and downs, even because of them, it was a exceedingly rich week.  We had an open schedule and family to enjoy.  There is a card my mom gave me on my fridge that reads, "Nothing is impossible to the valiant at heart."  Valiant.  It felt as if the world was ours for the taking.

So when Wednesday came and the rain was falling and our inside game was falling apart, I knew we could not let it get the better of us.  We had plans to meet friends at a park and take turns watching our kids while we each went for a little run.  I had my sneakers on and the girls were dressed head to toe in their rain gear.  So even when they cancelled one by one, there was no turning back.  I strapped them in and off we went with a stop at our favorite grocer.  Two blueberry muffins and an orange poppy scone can cure all ills.  

The moral of this story:  invest in rain pants.  Just kidding.  Maybe the moral of the story, of my story, is that it is all a beautiful mess.  And I'm really, very grateful.


  1. Messy and beautiful, precisely.

  2. yes, i'm finding it's hard to be 2 and 4, as well! as far as the the newborn life goes, well, that's a breeze ;) liz

  3. It's hard for me to express how absolutely perfect and gorgeously stated I think your description of three-ness is. I will be quoting it and crediting you: "She would fully commit to whatever emotion was felt as if we were at acting class. 'Now be really excited! Okay, this time try it from the depths of despair.'"