fresh air

Yesterday was a beautiful day for not being inside. It was in the mid fifties and felt positively spring-like. Kaes came home from school, and, after emptying her Valentines on the table, went to play in the backyard in the pink dress she had worn especially for Valentine's Day. She shoveled frozen, crusty snow from one bit of grass to another, and rode a stick around the yard like a hobby horse, with her dress hitched up to her waist. There was something involving buckets that I never quite figured out, but she was hauling something from somewhere and dumping it elsewhere. She was all alone while she did this, no friends or brothers to help her have fun. She is by far the most social person in the family, making friends while standing in line in the store and bringing toys to the park in case she meets a friend (old or new). And yet, when I send her brothers out to play, even if I send them out together, they stand around and look at each other, then at me through the window, and tell me 'there's nothing to do' and 'no one to play with.' But Kaes has an innate ability to play, which often manifests itself as 'constantly doing something' or 'getting into things.'

After an hour of re-discovering the backyard ("Mom, did you know there is grass growing on the side of the house?") she came in, took off her muddy shoes and announced, "I'm gonna get some non-fresh air."

That's my girl.