It's all very simple

In the midst of sadness, there is happiness. There is this:

My grandmother, my dad's mom, passed away this week and as sad as it is to lose someone, someone you have memories of, stories with, and ties to, there is young, sweet, happy life happening all around. Still.  When things seem sad, of course it's important to feel the sad. Swim with it for awhile and let it wash over you.  But then you turn the corner to this. An innocent life that has just begun. That is thrilled by the prospect of owning her brother's glasses for just a little while.  Life is something to be thankful for. 

And because in the midst of sadness, I find my self appreciating more of what I have. Healthy kids, a healthy family. So much in terms of everything I need and even want.  What's worth more that seeing little faces light up to the sound of jazz in the park? Freedom to dance, roll, sing, shake, and hula hoop.  Nothing. Absolutly nothing.

Before the music started, we walked over to the duck pond and fed the ducks.  Quinn was pretty impressed, not afraid, and fed them all like a pro. She was pretty pleased with herself. 

Someone forgot who the bread was for. Busted! I see that bread on your lip!

If we could sell Declan's affection, we'd be rich.

He's a fan of the 'thumbs up'

They could feel the beat, they had no inhibitions. They rolled, jumped, sang, whistled, twirled and fell. They are so deeply loved. They are so deeply bonded. They are so deeply blessed.

Oh, I forgot to post that Picture Overload Warning. 

The fun did not stop there, that Thursday night.  On Friday, we took a slew of kids downtown, all color coordinated so as not to lose anyone. Just kidding, they did that themselves. Genius kids, I tell you. 

They all learned the fine art of window shopping.  The window with the rows of rubber ducks disguised as Elvis, Dorothy, KISS, even Obama, won out as the favorite window. Who knew?

We searched for Cha-Cha lessons for these flouncy girls. We ended up just having to teach them ourselves....

And then comes the clencher.  It may sound scary, so brace yourself.  Here's the set-up: a very small downtown store. Very small.  Narrow. Small.  Six kids, 4 and under.  A table set up with wooden instruments, puzzles, and books.  Surrounded by merchandise. In the midst of merchandise. The kind that's for sale.  But yes, the table was meant for play. 

And it was beautiful.

Mom bought this dress for Isabella because she swears she had the same, exact dress, when she was younger. That's what she thinks. And we think our 4 year old has morphed into a 10 year old overnight.  Sniff, sniff. Seriously, though.

And in September, when she starts ballet. This twirling girl will be in heaven, I am convinced.  She has never been more excited about anything. And that is more than I could ask for.

And when her little shadow hears her talk about ballet, he says he's going with her.

And she tells him that is just fine. Because boys take ballet too. Just like in her Angelina Ballerina book.

There is a lot of angst in our world, in our personal lives, and in our relationships. But to them, that doesn't exist.  When they see Ryan's truck pull in the driveway as he comes home from kayaking, and they run across the yard with their arms flailing, and jump in so they can 'drive' the rest of the way, they feel nothing but joy.  And it's little pockets of that, that help the bigger pockets of pain, heal.

Fun is all relevant.  For us it tends to need to be grandious, exciting, and new. 

Isabella told me that I was 'fun' the other day.

I asked her why.

She said:
"Because you let us run to the chicken coop every morning and check for eggs."

I never knew it could be that simple. I'm glad she told me.