I think this may come across as odd, but I want my kids to play outside. Like, all of the time.
That was a lot harder last year, because Little Bear was so small. I was completely uncomfortable putting him outside for extended periods of time. This year, though, it’s game on.
Bring on the sprinklers, the sand box, the balls and bats, the bikes, and the sidewalk chalk. Bring on the dirt. Bring on trips to the park.
Bring on the summer.
I can honestly say this is the first time I’ve ever had that thought. I used to hate summer. When I was in high school, summer meant hot weather, traffic, and irritating tourists. And I liked school, so even though I was generally ready for the break come late May/early June, I hated being away from learning for that long.
But then I remember the summers before high school. The summers when I played outside until my mom had to call my parents called me in for the night, when I relished the evenings when my parents would sit on friends’ front porches and let the group of kids play as long as they were in sight.
I wish I had that for my boys.
There isn’t much in the way of playmates for our kids in our neighborhood. There is one house across the street where the kids are outside pretty often, but they’re a bit older than Butter. That’s why I love the idea of the family fellowship we go to every other week. Our church has several young families. It’s really nice to see Butter playing with all the other kids, and LB playing with the younger kids.
Bring all of it on.
I’m so ready.