Monday, May 31, 2010
I try to take the kids outside every day. I know how I feel when I've been cooped up in the house for more than a couple of hours, and I would guess that for them, the suffocating air of our downstairs is probably twice as heavy, and much harder to take in. Especially knowing that the sun is out there shining, and the parks are out there waiting to be played on.
My plan, most mornings at least, is to have a quick breakfast (usually a muffin and fruit), and then hurry up and get outside before the heat sets in. Its been summer in Texas for a month or more already, daily temperatures in the 90's (and hundreds later this week), the humidity at its worst. If we don't get out in the morning, the chances of us getting out for any significant amount of exercises at all, are slim to none.
The kids and I go for a walk around the neighborhood, about a mile in a half in the double stroller, before the sun is so high that it leathers our skin. Now with my being 6 months pregnant, and Charlie and Eleanore being a combined weight of about 80 pounds, plus the weight of the stroller itself- the walk is a challenge. Every day, I remind myself that its healthier, for all of us, to get out and fight about who gets to pick the flower growing next to 284 New York's mailbox. Its better, that instead of sitting inside watching a VHS movie, that we lather up in both sunblock and bug spray, and brave the blackjackets that like to skip around the ceiling of the garage and park gazebos, looking for new places to call home. If it weren't for our early morning adventures, as exhausting as they are, we'd all be bored out of our minds, unable to sit still, begging for life.
Though it may seem like it sometimes, I'm not a machine. I've decided to take the weekends off. That doesn't mean I take a complete vacation from fresh air, but- I don't rush into my jogging shoes and strap the kids into the stroller full speed ahead the way I do on the average week day.
And its a good thing.
Because sometimes, slowing down and spending the morning outside blowing bubbles, allows you to come across hidden treasures, right there on the brick of your own house, by the watering hose...
A beautiful butterfly, waking up from a long nap. Unsure of its new body, having never even used its brand new wings, probably scared to death about letting go of its sleeping bag- right there in front of us.
It was just something that made me smile. Something that was pretty wondrous to come across. Something that I never ever imagined witnessing, and once I caught sight of it, I almost couldn't let go.
The next day the butterfly was gone. I guess those newly formed wings worked just the way they were meant to. The chrysalis is still there on the brick, empty and abandoned, probably until the next wind storm, or until we wash it away ourselves.
I wonder where the butterfly is? And what its doing?
Anyways. Now whenever I'm feeling too tired to get up, I think about the butterfly, and how we would have never seen him emerge from his cocoon, had we not put our sandals on and opened the front door. Sometimes that doesn't stop me from sitting on the couch for an extra ten minutes when I know I should have gotten up and started them when I first thought of doing them (I'm human, I promise), but most of the time- it reminds me that I can't watch life being lived, unless I get up and participate in life myself.