Wordless Wednesday: Sidewalk Chalk

(Sometimes the simple things seem to slip my mind. When the babies go outside to play, we choose the front or the back. In the back, we've got the playhouse and slide. In the front, we've got all of the toys in the garage. Sometimes when given the choice, I'd rather not choose either.)

(Typically, when I take the babies outside to play in the morning, I in vision it to be relaxing. But it almost never is. While I'd like to be sitting there sipping at a mug of coffee or reading my book that I've been trying to finish for half a year- they're always wanting more more more. They can't just follow my rules and play with the toys I allow them. They can't just respect each other and behave nicely. They bicker and fight, kick and scream- they get overstimulated.)

(And I go crazy)



(Well it came upon me, the other morning, that instead of going for a walk and to the park, instead of choosing the back yard with the slide and playhouse, instead of opening up the garage and letting them be free with the toy bins- I could just keep it simple.)

(We'll play with sidewalk chalk today, babies. The same sidewalk chalk that you play with every day, only this time, just the sidewalk chalk, and nothing more.)



(Nothing to fight over, other than the coffee can that carries the chalk. Nothing to cry about, there are enough pieces for the both of you.)

(And theres no need to bother Mommy- shes busy taking pictures of dusty fingers and toes.)



(So theres a little bit of wind.)

(Just brush your hair out of your face, pretty girl, and don't lift that chalk from the concrete for anything.)



(Except maybe to use it as makeup. Your cheeks could use a little color, since we're playing in the shade, rather than the sun.)

(And gosh your eyes are gorgeous, Elie Belly. You and your Daddy both.)



(Well, what did you think it would taste like?)

(Every day, you bring the chalk to your mouth. Every day, you take a bite. And every day, Mommy says "yuck! yuck Charlie!", you spit it out, throw it down onto the ground, hard as you can, and then pick it up and start all over again.)



(While Brother is daydreaming about the big mud covered truck across the street, Sister is drawing snow covered palm trees that will later be trapped inside of an imaginary winter globe.)



(Just as the excitement wears off, Brother comes out of the flower garden, guilty, holding a single flower. He sits down, and does what any other one year old would do.)

(He puts the flower in between his dirty toes.)

(Somehow he knows to be gentle with it, while squishing it into place with his fingers. Hes extra careful, not to lose a single petal.)



(And of course, whatever Brother does. Sister has to do too.)