Wednesday, March 18, 2009


I am soooo not a morning person. I guess I wouldn't mind them if they didn't start so... early... but they do and I hate them.

So, I'm still working on a new list of blog topics - the old one only has one or two items left on it, so it's time to go back to the drawing board. Trouble is, I think I'm running out of stuff to blog about. I hope I can come up with a new list, otherwise things could get real boring, real fast.

The weather's finally getting nicer (and spring is only what? two days away? I have to check the calendar because I always thought it was the 21st, but I have a feeling it's the 20th this year. How can it change?) Today is supposed to be pretty nice and I've already promised the Boy that, when he gets home from school, we will go out and play in the backyard.

That's one of the best things about little kids. Everything is so new to them. One of the greatest pleasures in the Boy's life is to pick up sticks and toss them into the creek behind our house. He will do it all afternoon, if I'd let him. He likes the whoosh a stick makes when it zings through the air, and the sploosh that it makes when it hits the water. And I sit on the swing and just watch, because it truly is one of the most entertaining and adorable things to see.

I wish I could remember what it was like to be so fascinated by the simplest things. That's the wonder of childhood and the sadness of adulthood. We lose that fascination - whether by choice or by the simple act of growing up, I don't know - and that's so sad. I recapture bits of it when the Boy and I go outside, but it isn't the same. It's close, but not quite there.

The saddest thing about it is that it's so fleeting. I watch him now and wish I had some way to simply stop time. Just freeze it. Or even slow it down a little. He doesn't realize it, just as the Girl doesn't realize it, and how I didn't realize it until it was too late - childhood really does fly by. He'll be four in October. The Girl will be nine. And before much longer, that little boy, giggling over the sound of a stick hitting the water, will be a memory.

I think that, if everyone had the chance to just stop, and look at the world through a child's eyes, the world would probably be a better place for it.

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