6/24/24
10:38pm
Sat in the yard with the baby on our peace blanket. Toys and bubbles, floating all around us, getting stuck in the grass. The new fence makes it feel like our own bubble. Bluest of blue sky. Greenest of green trees. Half shaded, half sunny lawn. The three sisters are growing—corn stalks skinny like grass, bean shoots plump, pumpkin and squash leaves inviting.
I built her new playset: a tiny neon green climbing wall, tan playhouse landing, red slide no taller than 18 inches. She wanted to climb it immediately. She was slipping on the slick plastic climbing wall, but kept trying and kept trying, never taking her eyes off the platform above, as if something inside her was compelling her. She would get so close to reaching the top and then lose her footing. She whined as she struggled and I told her she could do it. And she did. She smiled so big once she reached the tiny platform, plastic house walls keeping her safe on either side. Her mouth wide open with glee, she clapped her hands and panted with excitement. She was proud of herself. Happy to be exactly where she wanted to be. It was beautiful to watch.
She sat on the edge of the slide, her legs dangling down. She tipped forward, smiling and apprehensive—generations of instinct telling her both to sit back and be safe, and to go for it, take the risk. She slid down fast, ungracefully, folding forward, and would have landed on her face if not for my catching her. Sliding properly takes practice of balance—another skill I never thought about.
She sat on the platform and rolled her new rubber blocks down the slide, and threw some the other way down the climbing wall. She enjoyed her new castle. She played with the bucket of water and soaked her lap. She explored the rainbow colored rice of the sensory bin.
I walked her around the yard, one hand of hers holding mine, and the other clutching a tiny bottle of bubbles. My husband took pictures and videos, shaking his head and smiling at the idea of her being so close to walking on her own.
We spent time as a family in our own backyard. We grilled turkey burgers. Admired the lights we put up. Appreciated the new privacy of our fence. Ate on our back deck at the picnic table gifted to us by our neighbor. It was beautiful to live.
/motherhood/