Home Time

"I wanna GO somewhere!!"

This is often Luke's nagging refrain as we are driving home from preschool (or museum school, or ladies class, or the store...), and this afternoon was no different. And I might've given in on a trip to the zoo, except that I had my produce co-op share in the backseat and I knew the lettuce wouldn't survive another hour in a parked vehicle on a sunny day. So I did what I often do: set my ears to "deaf to half of what's said from the backseat" and grimly count the exits until home.

But here we are, an hour (and a bowl of oatmeal) later, and both kids are busy and happy upstairs - quiet even! Not "uh-oh" quiet (not yet anyway) - the occasional sounds of toys crashing out of bins reassures me that all is well and that I can continue to sip on my cup of decaf and peck away at the keyboard for a few more minutes.

I love that my kids can play at home.

I love that my kids can play together - and quite often happily.

I love that Sarah is especially fond of sneaking off quietly and can usually be found in her closet, surrounded by dolls and jewelry, carefully mothering a stuffed animal or outgrown sneaker or other unlikely subject.

I love that Luke, much more fond of having around-the-clock company, has learned to be content playing alone when he can't cajole his sister into joining him. And also that he succeeds in getting Sarah to join him, most of the time. (One time I caught them playing "Jake and the Neverland Pirates," and Luke was obviously the mastermind because he'd assigned Sarah the role of "Bucky." That's the ship.)

Next year our lives will change dramatically when Luke begins kindergarten. I'm trying to remind myself of that so that we will take these moments of down time at home and hold them close and precious. Much like Sarah and her tiger-babies and plastic-Ariel-babies and shoe-babies...