“A baby is God's opinion that life should go on. Never will a time come when the most marvelous recent invention is as marvelous as a newborn baby. The finest of our precision watches, the most super-colossal of our supercargo planes don't compare with a newborn baby in the number and ingenuity of coils and springs, in the flow and change of chemical solutions, in timing devises and interrelated parts that are irreplaceable.” --Carl Sandburg
Well, I had a great time with my niece and nephew last week (and the rest of my family, of course!). Jamie is 3 and a chatterbox who loves Disney princesses and both hearing and telling stories, and Hayden is a 2 month old baby with all those great baby fat rolls on his knees and elbows. He’s got chubby cheeks and a very sweet and easy disposition; he mainly just wants to sleep, and be fed, and to sit on a lap and watch the ceiling fan turn.
They got me thinking about how simple life used to seem when I was a child. The days were for playing and school, being with my friends or curling up in a shady spot with a good book. Nights were for time with my sister and mother, one last story before bed, and then lots of rest to get me ready for the next day. Summers, we were outside all day, starting with the garden in the morning, shelling peas and shucking corn on the front porch, playing in the sprinkler or the rain—I still prefer not to use an umbrella or raincoat for light rain; I can hear my grandmother saying, “You’re not made of sugar nor salt; you won’t melt!” Things seemed easier then.
I wonder if perhaps I’ve grown up too much, and don’t let myself play much anymore. I’ve not been out in the kayak nearly as much as I’d like this year, and it’s been a busy year with school and a new baby in the family (and a baby blanket I still haven’t finished). Maybe I need to play more. You?