Exploring Shadows

 We were at the park yesterday for our homeschool teen get together.  My two older girls and the rest of the group had chosen to spend their time outside playing soccer, or at least trying to.  While the teens kicked the ball around the field I was biding my time over on the playground with the 7, 2 and 3.5 month olds.  My son was at a geography class.  It was a bright and blustery day;  a bit chilly for park time when your main activity is sitting on a cement bench watching the clock tick by.

The wind was making my daughter's runny nose run even more.  I was out of tissue and the wind was whipping her hair into that gooey mess.  Gross.  The baby didn't enjoy the sun in her eyes and was starting to fuss.  I was tired of fumbling with the snacks and stroller. I was thinking about all the cleaning I needed to get done at home and wondering if my time was being well spent at the park.  Ever have moments like that?  You're mind is everywhere and nowhere at the same time?

"Let's go for a walk around the fields, girls."  It was my effort to get something beneficial for myself out of the experience.  If I'd been wearing my fitbit I would have been more excited about the walk.  As it was, I just wanted to get moving and warm up.  After hefting the stroller across the rocky and muddy remnants of last summer's stream, we began our lap around the fields.  Two minutes into the walk my 7yo pulls out a lollipop that she had won at the arcade earlier that day.   "Hide it!" I warned her.  Too late.  2yo was already begging and pleading, then whining and crying, then refusing to walk, and finally up on my shoulder wailing into my already partially deaf left ear.  OK.  I was ready to go home already.  7yo picks up her pace so as to remove the lollipop from view and enjoy her sugar high in peace.  That left me lugging a toddler and pushing a stroller.  Ahhh...love it.  Mom life, right?  Actually, I was feeling good about myself for not getting too annoyed.

Another five minutes into it and the wailing had waned.  I put her down.  We walked in silence.  The wind died down and the sun felt great on my cheek.  Then comes her question: "What are those lines on the ground?"  Imagine her cute little 2-yo voice and the question is even more curious. Lines on the ground?  Like the lines that divide the cement squares in the sidewalk?  No, wrong lines.  I keep trying to figure out her question.  Ah!  Then I realize.  Shadow lines.  Shadows?!  How could I have let my 2yo go this long without showing her the magic of shadows?  Shadows are cool!

It occurred to me that maybe in my daily rush to homeschool, run the house, etc I have neglected my sweet littles a tad.  With my oldest entering highschool this year and her siblings close on her heels, not to mention the new baby, I don't think I've given my 2yo the same focus and attention that I've given the others at this stage.  I felt sad for a moment. I had lost time.  Wasted time.  Missed out on memories with her.  I have so many good memories of story time, play dates, long walks, and snuggles galore with my older children.  But what about with this one? Her toddler years have been somewhat lost in the shuffle of two hectic moves, a new baby, and a stressed-out-homeschooling-mom of six.*

I pulled myself out of that sad moment and realized that there's no time like the present to DO something.  I didn't want to waste THIS memory.  I dove into the sweetness of the moment and did my best to show her what a shadow is.  "See my shadow?  That's me waving at you!  Hello!!  Can you wave at me with your shadow too?  There you are!  Can you step on my shadow? I'm going to step on the stroller's shadow.  I wonder if we run fast enough will our shadows keep up?  Let's see!"

The light bulb came on!  And it was amazing to watch.  "Mommy!  That's me!  It's me!"  Yep.  That's you Sweet Girl.  The twirling and bending began as she experimented with all the things her shadow could do.

Thank goodness for these moments. These are teh moments that keep me going.  The sweetness of the daily details overshadows the sometimes mundane-ness of  the routine.  Just when I was wishing we hadn't come, I was so glad that we had.

So, the truth is that she wont' have the same experience as a toddler that my older kids had.  That's the reality of having a larger family.  There's only one of me and six* of them.  But when I am granted opportunities like this to make a memory, I sure hope I'm not to busy to recognize it.

*I always feel bad saying that I only have six kids. It feels to me that I am dishonoring the memory of our 5th daughter that died in 2014.  She would be 4 years old now.  In her temporary, but long-term absence, my daily reality is that of a mother of six.  Someday I'll have them all together.  Someday it will be seven kids again.