On pretty days like today, booger and I head inside when we get home, I change clothes, and we head right back outside.
Sometimes we putter around in the back yard, drawing boats and dragons and kitty cats and hopscotch boards on the patio with sidewalk chalk. We lie in the hammock. We chase each other around the shed. We watch the birds at the feeder, and I lift him up so he can play with the wind chime.
Other days, we head out to the reservoir to watch boats come in and out, feed the ducks (if booger leaves them any bread - he is notorious for eating it all before the ducks get any), pet friendly doggies, count the number of bicycles we see, run all around every place, and inspect any heavy equipment left on site at the neighborhood they are building near ours. (We call the machinery by its Bob the Builder name. Today, we saw a big yellow "Scoop.")
He usually hops on my back for a horsey ride on the way home, and we sing songs out loud as we go back to the house.
For the past two nights on the way back from our walk, he's looked at me and said, "Mama, I'm happy." His little blue eyes shining. His fair, fair hair lifting in the wind off the water.
When we get home, we eat a little dinner, have bath (bonus if the hooded monster towel is clean), read lots of Curious George stories, and go to bed.
I guess that I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I just know I want to remember these moments and hold onto them for as long as I can. I know that one day, my little baby will care more about convincing me to give him the car keys than he will about showing me the squirrels we see on top of the fence or the rocks he found that he just had to take back home.
I love that kid.