At the beginning of the week, the temps nudged into the 60s. People started calling for an Indian Summer and I went off to Ben about how 60s do not equal "summer." Indian or otherwise. (By the way, Indian Summer was one of my most favorite movies in High School. I watched it a lot when home sick from school. Oh, and it has nothing to do with India).
But now it's two weeks before Thanksgiving and so warm that my kids are balking at clothing, so Indian Summer it is.
Today, because snow is but a breath away, I let them eat lunch outside for the second time this week, even though they end up eating more dirt and grass than food.
Because ice will soon turn the ground hard as rock, I let Simon plant carrots and sunflowers in the backyard even though I know they won't grow.
Because I know these days are fleeting, I let Talya dump her lunch off her plate and pile it high with mulch and dirt. I pretended not to care that she took her shoes off.
Because he won't feel it again for months, I let Charlie roll around in the dirt, pile it onto his head, heap it onto his tight coarse curls from which it will never be free, and even eat some.
I let them soak it all up because the winter is too, too long and the next time it's picnic weather, I'll be able to understand everything Talya says and Simon will be able to pump and I'll have one less kid to push higher and higher.
Because I've been trying to let the joy of God's gifts seep into my heart and out my pores, I figured I should let them do it too.
Charlie claimed victory over the slide today. He climbed, determined, up the slide until he reached the top. Then, he focused on the ladder and conquered that too. Then, he perched precariously at the top and laughed at my attempts to get him safely away from the edge. He tried to walk right down that slide instead of sitting on his butt.
And for that reason only, I will welcome winter (a tiny bit less begrudgingly) - because as nice as this is, if Indian Summer goes on for another week, my youngest will end up with something in a cast.
PS - whoever calls this pleasant weather "Indian Summer" has never spent a summer in India.