Some days I wish I could simply bottle.
It's Labor Day weekend. We should be going to a park, or the zoo, or cleaning out the garage. We probably should be barbequing. Or shopping.
Instead, I'm sitting at the computer, listening to the chatter of two voices and the clink of their toys as they create a wonderland in the livingroom. There are corrals set up around the fireplace. Toy bins have been upended to make either traps or houses, it's hard to tell which. Molded plastic horses, and kitens, and dogs and jungle animals are carefully laid out in intricate interactions across the floor. There are strings draped from chair rungs to plastic hooves, and bits of paper shredded and piled as 'winter preperations'. There's giggling, and I catch bits and pieces of phrases like "Oh, wait...no, I have it...they should..." and "That's a great idea! And then..."
I let the moments wrap around me, holding my breath when I slip into the room, watching their heads bowed together over a cheap plastic saddle, and slipping out again, careful not to diturb their game.
We don't get full blown games like this very often anymore.
There was a time when any item, any moment, every day was filled with fantasy worlds and magical moments. But at 8 and 12, we're straddling the lines between child and teenager. Family or friends. Toys and gadgets. Games and gossip.
Today, I'm listening to the blossom of creativity as they dream. Anything could happen.
Earlier, Penguin asked for pizza bread, expressing a desire for some savory baked item. We went online, then whipped together a cup of brown rice flour, an egg, some salt, oil and just over half a cup of water.
Her tummy is filled with this concoction dipped in pasta sauce. (her sister spread jam on it...Bumblebee believes anything baked should be sweet) And I feel like it is a good day. A successful day. A fulfilling day.
Even if there are dishes to do and no path cutting across the living room.
There's laundry to fold, and shelves that need dusting...but just now, I'm going to close my eyes and listen to kids being kids. Because today won't last. And a camera couldn't hope to capture it.