This week I made it a goal to get outside at least once a day with the kids. We've been cooped up with potty training and rainy weather. Since potty training turned out to be a bust (we'll try again in a few weeks), and the rainy weather isn't too cold in the afternoon, I've decided even if it's raining, we're at least going to get out the front door on the porch to breathe in some fresh air.
Yesterday was the perfect start to the new goal. It rained in the morning, but the sun peeked out through big, fluffy, white clouds in the afternoon, drying out the wet air. After nap time and a quick snack, we got ready to play on the still-patchy, but green, grass.
I quickly changed diapers, pulled on Aidan's Lightening McQueen shoes, and stuck my feet into my flip flops. With a soccer ball and blanket in one arm and Kimball in the other, I opened the front door and didn't even have to coax a football-in-hand, totally excited Aidan who said, "I got it!" when I tried to help him open the screen door that enabled our final escape to the outdoors.
He finally figured out the handle and pushed the black door open. He walked a few steps, then stopped and threw the football over the metal railing onto the grass and sidewalk below. Then we all hurried down to "play ball."
I set Kimball down on the dry grass, laid the soft, blue and yellow baby blanket down next to him, and then lifted him up and over onto the blanket. He was content just sitting there watching Aidan, playing with the soccer ball, and eating grass when he was able to grab a fistful of it.
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| Those overalls just kill me. I wish I had a million more of them to dress him in. :) |
While I was getting Kimball set up, Aidan took off across the lawn to a tall, dry bush at the edge of the parking lot on the other side of our apartment. Then he ran back, laughing and plucking up yellow dandelions along the way. He was almost beside himself being outside again. Obviously, this goal will be good for all of us.
After sitting with Kimball for a little bit, I watched as Aidan ran up to me and asked, "Mom, play?"
Well, how could I resist that?
I jumped up and chased him around, snatching the soccer ball from his hands and running away with it. He grinned from ear to ear and laughed with joy at the game. He then ventured on his own again, climbing the wooden fence, jumping in a small, muddy puddle, and asking me to help lift him to touch his fingertips to the lower branches of a tree. A few minutes later, I jogged over and picked up Kimball, balanced him on my hip, and sprinted after Aidan again. We ended up crowded together by the fence and watched planes fly by. "It's flying away! Bye, white plane!"
When we got tired, we all plopped back onto the blanket and grass and enjoyed the breeze playing across our faces and running its fingers through our hair.
At one point, Kimball crawled into my lap, leaving the baby blue blanket sitting by itself right by my knees. It was then that I thought of Alma.
That blanket was given to us at Alma's baby shower, and I've used it for both Aidan and Kimball. I thought of how he might be saying, "Play on the grass, Mom?" like Aidan does. Since he's a year older, he'd probably be saying it in more complete sentences, but I couldn't help but think a piece of him was there with us. The wind on my face. The yellow sun shining down, warming us up. The sounds of a toddler's laugh and a baby's happy squeal. The joy emanating from my heart in addition to the sweet love I felt for all of my boys.
It's interesting how grief comes unexpectedly. It wasn't so mean yesterday since it was more of a reminder of Alma rather than a sudden, sporadic, heart-wrenching moment of missing him. It was a slight tug, helping me remember him and imagine him playing and giggling with his younger brothers.
That slight tug yesterday reminded me of the sacred role of motherhood. Sometimes I get caught up in filling empty stomachs, diaper changes, grocery bills, brushing teeth, bath time, building block towers, kissing bonked heads and smashed arms, preparing the diaper bag, reading scriptures, praying, creating activities, bouts of boredom, and digging deep for patience - all the while wondering if it's amounting to anything. The world doesn't cheer mothers on, and it's easy to get caught up in wondering if there's "more" I could be doing that has "greater impact."
Then moments like yesterday happen - stacked on top of hundreds and thousands of precious, sacred moments - when I see the glow of delight on Aidan's and Kimball's faces and, with grief, I feel close to Alma.
Those moments, along with the hard moments that come with motherhood, are when I remember that being a mom is who I am supposed to be and motherhood is the greatest thing I could ever do. Nothing could ever replace it, and I am grateful to be a part of all of the moments I get to experience with all three of my kids.
And I'm excited to get outside more this week. :)
"Some women are not given the responsibility of bearing children in mortality, but just as Hannah of the Old Testament prayed fervently for her child, the value women place on motherhood in this life and the attributes of motherhood they attain here will rise with them in the Resurrection. Women who desire and work toward that blessing in this life are promised they will receive it for all eternity, and eternity is much, much longer than mortality. There is eternal influence and power in motherhood."
