Yesterday afternoon we took a muddy walk around the city, stomping in as many puddles as we could find, while searching for the earliest signs of spring. We saw them. The very beginning buds on a couple of trees, patches of grass emerging from snow blankets to reveal last fall's chestnuts and pinecones, the brightness that remains after five o'oclock--even a plump robin bobbing along on one of these grassy spots.
And, of course, the puddles. While I would say it's a bit early to announce the beginning of mud season here in New England, we're certainly getting close, and for my little ones, that means lots of puddle-stomping. I wrote in last spring's edition of Rhythm of the Home all about our family's springtime puddle-stomping, how it's an obvious marker of spring for us, how the kids look forward to dedicated puddle-stomping walks, how it makes passersby smile to see children splashing happily in sidewalk puddles.
During yesterday's particularly muddy puddle-stomping session, an older woman walked by us and commented about how nice it was that I didn't mind the kids getting so soaked and dirty. Now, we were close to home, we were dressed appropriately for the conditions, and we were going straight into the bath--but the reality is, what's another load of laundry? Kids are washable, pants are washable, jackets are washable--and given the never-ending pile of laundry in my house, a few more dirty things don't make much difference. But these dirty things make a huge difference in the attitude, energy, and enjoyment of my children.
Spring is coming, the signs are emerging, the light is growing, and the laundry basket is filling.