This morning, with the soft morning sun in my eyes,wood stove smells wafting in my nose, and a very sleepy mind I wove in and out of yesterdays creations. I saw my boys busy, so busy, building yet another track; Choo-chooing thier way around the house, with not much more than a, “Morning Mama!” and a smile and it occured to me how suddenly my little paint smearing finger painters had turned into little boys who have coated our house with so much art and innovation that I couldn’t help but smile. How quickly this happened. I lied my bobble head baby down and snapped a few pictures.
This freedom to be bored is something to behold. With not much of a schedule, and the weather growing wetter and colder, they have been quite content to craft and create with such a fervor I can hardly keep up. There is a constant influx of rolls of tape, stacks of blank paper, lots and lots of writing utensils, and of course cardboard boxes. I have been thinking about the age of, “I am bored.” and when that occurs. I really don’t know. (Any of you with older children, please chime in!) But for now, I am soaking up the beauty of never ending ideas and energy surging out of their limbs. And trying to soak some of it up too.