Hand In Hand

We love our town.  One of the reasons we bought this house was the walkability of it, and the fact that there were actually things to walk to.  Sidewalks line the streets, there are numerous parks and trails, and we have a thriving small business community.  It's nice.  We really love it.  In the beginning, we pushed the kids in the stroller.  But now?  Now we walk.

It started with a one-to-one ratio, with one adult holding the hand of one child.  But, as they have gotten older and listen better (and since the weather here is BEAUTIFUL: I mean, 70s in March???), I've been taking them alone.  The other day, we walked a quarter mile to a park that I swore I'd never taken them to alone (it's open and I have a fear of kidnappers- I know... A tad unrational, but it's a pretty severe internal terror; there's a creek; there's no gate/fence; those sorts of things).  But we went.  And it was great.  They loved it and when I said it was time to go, there wasnt push back.

Earlier this week, a friend (and my first doula client, who had her baby last month!) texted and asked if we wanted to do a walk, so she came our way and we walked (.6 mile each way) to a local ice cream shop, where the kids chowed down on banana (B) and strawberry (M) ice cream cups, while she and I had smoothies (raspberry sherbet, OJ, and fresh strawberries for me- MMMM!!!!).  We walked home and then hung out on the deck while the kids played and I cooed over her new baby (TOO BEAUTIFUL!). 

There's something really surreal about it.  The holding of the two little hands... The walking down the street, just them and I.  Going places... together... Not me pushing a stroller of babies, but me walking with two little children.  More and more, I realize that soon, there wont be hand holding and I'll be reserved to watching... And then I'll be on the sideline... And then they'll be grown.

They aren't merely "two" anymore.  We've crossed the "two and a half" and now each day brings us a day closer to "three".  A day closer to being fully potty trained... to being in school (albeit only 2 mornings a week)... to being more independent. And, although I have a few years, I look at them today and can still see the newborns I held in Christening gown finery while seeing the six year olds who will be preparing for First Communion, and it blows my mind that this is them.  That this is us.  That this is our life.