Today was the first super warm day of spring in chicago. Fitting as Spring is only two days away. It was Kyle's first day of spring break! One of our house mates suggested we take our two little munchkins on a trek to the park. My daughter, Cossette, cried just about the entire time. She has just recently come out of a long bout of stomache flu...I think she's still emotionally recovering. My son, Klaus, had a stick in hand before we were 10 feet away from the house. He was the quintessential picture of a little guy in Spring. Stick in hand, rhythmically pulling it across each fence...click, click, click...letting the stick graze on the top of every bush passed...digging in any exposed dirt patch peeking out of grass...joy.
The sights and sounds of Spring were evident everywhere. Chalk drawings and hot scotch outlines appeared under my chucks every 50 feet. Clusters of kid mobs kickin' around curbs, with bikes, and skateboards and a lot of noise. Cement mixers sweatin to the oldies. Sun grins...everywhere. I saw a couple of boys walking down the sidewalk...one saw a rock and he kicked it, then they both ran to kick it again. Kids...sometimes they just know how to be people in a way I wish I did. Simple. Carefree. Forgiving.
Kyle and I went to see a high-school production of Grease tonight. Fun! Two of our housemates watched our babies. After we got home about, we were all talking a how disinterested kids can be about the past. My son has an iron trap memory. He remembers EVERYTHING, but if you ask him what he did earlier in the day, he just continues on doing whatever it is he was doing. Not in a disrespectful way. It's more like, wait we're playing now, why would we talk about something we already did. As adults, we tend to dwell almost exclusively on the past. Case in point? I'm blogging. We ask each other, "how was your day?" "What did you do at work?" Why? Are we trying to make life interesting? Can we not think of anything else to do when we're together except talk about the past? We spend time talking about the mundane, and not creating new memories. This isn't bad, per-say. I like stories. I am especially interested in the "past" of those I love. But, could we learn something from kids about being present in the present? Playing and learning from anything and anyone around?