The days are beautiful. The children are happy and healthy. Steadily their faces and little bodies are turning cinnamon and ginger bread colored from all the sunshine and fresh air they are consuming. They spend their mornings outdoors swinging, sliding, planting wildflower seeds, watering plants, riding tricycles and scooters, splashing in the puddles left by the garden hose and if they're lucky and their Mama is feeling permissive they get to squish their little fingers and toes (and mostly likely more) in mud pies, mud castles and mud forts until even their fair brown eyebrows are caked in mud. Then as was their plan Mama announces that it's bath time for everyone and all three excitedly strip off shoes, shorts, shirts and socks racing to the bathtub leaving multiple sets of muddy footprints on the kitchen floor. After a long warm bath, a bath that includes fountains of water being splashed high up in the air and onto the ceramic tile below, they are ravenous and ready for lunch. On the nicer days they take their plates of macaroni and strawberries or apples and grapes out to the picnic table and enjoy bites of food between games of tag and trips up and down the slide. Finally it's afternoon and after a long morning of running, chasing, laughing and playing in water they are ready to rest. The house is quiet in the afternoon. The shades are drawn to lull boys to sleep and with the promise of a show and popcorn even Sophia is persuaded to rest.
And for that short while the house is still.
But within a couple of hours the giggling and chatter from behind their bedroom door signals that they are up and ready to enjoy to second part of their day.
The part of the day that includes sitting at the kitchen table and drawing pictures of flowers and dinosaurs or rolling out dozens of brown snakes from the leftover play doh until finally it's their turn to help Mama with dinner, stirring the wooden spoon or sprinkling the salt.
The part of the day that includes racing to the front door and tripping over who will hug Daddy first, give him the first kiss. Each of them beaming at him and talking over each other, desperate to tell him about the worm they spotted or how many times they twirled in a circle before getting sick.
It's also the part of the day that includes bumpy rides in the red and blue wagon around the neighborhood, Momma and Daddy hoping to share about their day, while little voices eagerly interrupt to point out every ant hole, flower and barking dog along the way. Gradually the sun starts to fade, the ride comes to an end and even tireless two year old boys are convinced to go inside.
And finally it's the part of the day where Brown Bear, Brown Bear and Good Night, Good Knight are read. Where blessings and good night kisses are exchanged. And they fall to sleep, easily, ready to do it all over again in the morning.
