See one. Do one. Teach one.

I led Winnie by the hand, out the church door to join the other children. I turned back to  to find that the door had been shut and locked behind us. Harry was strapped in his stroller on the other side. So, I couldn’t really tell you how her hunt went as I ran to find another door to rescue our poor second born. We rejoined Winnie in time to help her find one of the final plastic eggs. 

Hair pulling, smocking, and laughter. Plenty of laughter.

We packed up wooden eggs and paint before heading to the shore. The plan was to paint by the waves. Instead, Winnie finally succumbed to sleep just beyond the rising tide. I formed a basket of sand, and Harry was content to chew on the unpainted eggs.

While double digits of top soil and mulch bags sat dormant in the truck bed, we danced. They can wait.

Dr. Sears will tell you most children give up their nap between 3-5 years of age. This one is barely 2, and has decided to get a head start on her slumbering peers. Instead, she disrobes (diaper and all), sings, plays her piano, and generally destroys her room while her baby brother attempts to snooze next door. Yawns all around these days.

Spring break was spent among rows of purple chard and carrots. I had hoped Winnie would enjoy her week in the sun. What I didn’t anticipate is that she would not want to come home. She churned butter, and was presented lessons that ranged from mining to the care of livestock. As I drove her home she cried, “my garden, my garden…my friends.”