A Magical Memory

We spent a magical time outside the other day going on a nature walk. It was the type of activity that I had always fantasized that being a stay-at-home mom would be filled with- time to linger, time to laugh, time to breathe the fresh air and notice those important things like the leaves beginning to bud on the wild blackberry bushes, and the cricket hopping crazy beside the gravel driveway. It was a time to discuss the types of birds that we saw and enjoy the crunch of the gravel beneath the tires of the car stroller as a kind of music. It was a time to hunt for the elusive “blow flowers” that my oldest calls dandelions. It was a time to notice new tree branches that had fallen to line the road. We enjoyed the space to sing the Peter Pan song about following the leader without worrying who we would bother or who would hear.  My oldest insisted on being the line leader and marched along with her stick much like a high stepping drum major wielding her baton. Again I say it was magical. A moment that will live on in memories of what life was like during these years of staying home with young ones. Everyone was happy. There was no arguing whatsoever or fussing. Anyone seeing us would have seen a mother and her brood spending time together in perfect harmony. It was a Hallmark card moment.

That is until we arrived home.  My oldest wanted to eat the last carton of her baby sister’s yogurt instead of her own yogurt.  An academy award winning meltdown ensued while we were outside trying to enjoy the first picnic of the season. Fortunately, we do not live close to neighbors or anyone nearby would have thought my child was being tortured instead of simply being upset over yogurt. So it is that our beautiful time outside came to an abrupt ending. Such is life with young ones.  But I know that in the library of memories in my head, the walk outside will somehow over shadow the meltdown memory in the way that our mind creates amnesia of sorts often allowing us to remember the pleasant over the painful. Of that I can take comfort.