Out You Go

This morning I realized that the twins don't have rain boots that fit. How have I not discovered that yet this winter? I'm not a mom who feels guilt over what my kids don't have because they really do have everything they need. But I always feel a twinge of regret when they don't have proper equipment for extended periods outside. In our days that type of stuff is more important than school supplies or trendy, techy toys. Thankfully, today I can give myself credit for putting them in hiking boots and raincoats and arming them with umbrellas. I love watching those two umbrellas float right up the walk.

As I write E has come in to ditch his umbrella so that he can use both hands to save worms that have been washed into the small culvert in front of our house. He relayed the mail to me from the postman, and then he headed out again. He poked his head in to request a cup. Then he brought me his coat because it was too bulky, and so now he is out there in his hoody alone. I might see him once or twice more with news from the gutter before he gets too cold.  

I sense my kids' need to roam and observe independent of my agenda. All too often I hurry them through the natural world that is our front yard and across school playgrounds and other community green areas so quickly in my attempt to stay on schedule. Even in "bad" weather, and sometimes especially in bad weather, they seem to want to linger outside much longer than I plan. I sometimes wonder if their favorite outings aren't to destinations removed from our home. I think their favorite outings might possibly be the independently-guided ones out our front door to kick their way through drifts of fallen leaves or splash their way through cold, puddled rainwater.