Thoughts from a rainstorm

 We had a lovely rainstorm Sunday evening.

 He had to wear a beanie, because the big kids across the street playing in the cul-de-sac were. Obviously.

 She got so excited she wouldn't stay under the umbrella and sat down in the gutter.

 But it didn't matter because the water was warm, like only a summer thunderstorm is. I love summer storms. Their suddenness and intensity unleashes an abandon that makes for poignant memories. My two favorite rainstorm memories are: frolicking, and then wrestling, with my next-door cousin Brinkley (she was the little sister I never had) in a mud puddle. We couldn't stop laughing.The other, jumping on the trampoline with my real sister, who always seemed grownup. Sensible, not the one to jump on the wet trampoline that made a heavy rebound underneath our feet, careless of lightning or even hail. As one who is usually sensible and reserved, occasional abandon is joyous.

 It wasn't a giant rainstorm, like we got early the next morning. There was just enough water for splashing in the gutter.

 As he walked down the sidewalk twirling his umbrella, I thought he'd be a shoo-in for "Singing in the Rain." And then I thought that my kids really ought to see "Singing in the Rain."

That night my son wanted to ask in his prayer that it would rain the next day. And it did--just too early in the day. By the time he got up and breakfasted, it was over. So, it's nice to know that prayers are answered, but oh, if only they were answered a little more conveniently.

I didn't want to go outside. My kids begged, and I finally relented. Something to pass the time until bedtime. Also, I'm trying to say yes more. I shouldn't say no just because I'm lazy.

And this was a good yes. It was a beautiful time, not wild with abandon, but full of sweetness and small discovery.

A blog that I love recently posted about art in everyday life:

 Since then, I've been thinking that anything we do is creative. Any work we do can be art. Being a lawyer, being a teacher, working as a cashier, a nurse, being a mom, a dad, a grandma. I really hate when people say something like, "You are so creative." Not that I don't like the compliment, but it suggests that only certain people have imagination and creativity. 

Just by being human, by being children of God—we are all creative in a hundred thousand different ways.

Can you see why I love this blog?

I don't think of myself as artistic, or even that creative, really. I'll never write a novel because I'd never think of a plot that would satisfy me as realistic. But art like this, I can do. Saying yes to my kids can be art.

Art like muddy puddles and hysterical jumping on trampolines, and a Sunday evening spent in a usually verboten place, the gutter.

Back to school, Back to school

I got my shoes tied tight....

I don't remember any more words. But that's okay, because my son wears velcro shoes and I really hope he doesn't turn out like Billy Madison. And it's not really back to school, because it's going to school for the first time. And that means... school supplies! I love school supplies.

Yeah, preschoolers don't need backpacks. Neither do toddlers. But I couldn't not buy them. Really what happened is I saw the apple one, and thought it would be perfect for my daughter. But no, she doesn't need a backpack. So I got the school bus one. Both the kids liked it so much that I decided the get the apple one when I was at the store today. Because I have a feeling nothing this cute will be for the having in a couple years when she's ready for preschool. And we've been using them for library trips. To justify the expense, you know. Put them to use.

I didn't think I'd do the preschool thing. I mean, I'm home. I could teach him. And what's all this about a hundred dollars for preschool? A month? No thanks. I had some people that wanted to get together and do joy school. More work, but more free.

But when this opportunity came up, it seemed right. It's run by the district, and my friend says the teachers are awesome. It's within walking distance. And with all the behavior problems we've been having in nursery lately, I figured the more practice the better, right? I think the social aspect will be excellent for him.

side note: my kid is not horrible. But nursery dealt him a double whammy all at once: the addition of his sister, and the splitting of nursery classes so he has to go straight from sacrament meeting to his lesson time. And all he wants to do is play toys. It's a hard adjustment. So there's been yelling and a little pushing (but only his sister. I guess he figures it's okay to push his sister at church, right? He does it every other day of the week, no problem.)

So we're getting all hyped up for preschool. Yesterday he packed his backpack for preschool (a water bottle and a matchbox car). He was all set to go. It's hard to remember that September is a long time away.

And I didn't think I would feel like this, but it's going to be a little weird and sad. I'm excited for him to go learn and grow. But I'm not going to be the only teacher he has anymore. (Yes, there is his nursery teachers, but that's only two hours a week.) And now for two hours a day, four days a week, I won't get to see his adventures. That's a lot of time.

But I'm pretty sure we'll both love it. And I think sister will also enjoy having a little bit of only child time.