I wasn't looking forward to it. I was a bit down on Friday--no real reason I could state. Just a bit blue. the short work week had felt long. The rainy weekend awaiting seemed to stretch before me...a rainy weekend with kids at home. I was worried we'd all feel a bit trapped. Bored. Antsy. Missing the sunshine we've grown accustomed to.
But then Saturday dawned. And the biggest one wanted to bake muffins.
And the littlest one wanted to walk in the rain.
And so we did.
We made muffins and watched them rise. We put on rain jackets and boots and grabbed an umbrella and headed outside.
Little A led the way. We found puddles for splashing and took a turn on the neighborhood rope swing.
We went on a bear hunt.
She laughed. I laughed. I was cold. I was wet. But I was having fun.
And then she saw it. A chasm of a puddle. Filled to the brim with the brownest, muckiest water we had seen yet. And she headed towards it.
No. I said.
Why? she asked.
I thought.
Why not?
And so I gave the yes and watched her run with excitement and splash with joy plastered on her face and rising from her giddy voice.
That seems like such a small, silly moment, but for a momma who loves cleanliness and order--it felt huge. It felt like adventure.
On our walk home, amidst the drizzle and the mud and the gray and the cold, I started thinking about adventure. How this morning, this moment, this moment of yes instead of no was adventure to me. How I was stepping out of my comfort of the dry warmth inside on a day like that day. How I was letting myself ENJOY the gray and the cool and the rain. How I was letting my child DANCE and splash her way through the morning rather than insisting we stay cooped up inside.
And as it tends to do, my mind continued its ambling towards thoughts of adventure in my 37th year. I don't consider myself adventurous. I never have. In the age of social media, my life looks incredibly mundane.
But on Saturday, I felt adventurous. My spirit did (even if no Facebook or Instagram post could have captured it). And this is what I know to be true: Adventure looks and feels differently for everyone. For some it's adrenaline-filled excursions, hot air balloon rides, or riding massive rapids. For others, it's saying yes to what seems impossible or just a tiny bit scary.
And still for others, it's packing up a tiny Corolla and heading 600 miles from home knowing no one, but trusting that something really good lies ahead.
And all that good was jumping and splashing and singing right before me. And all that good was waiting for us when we got home, the smell of freshly baked muffins still lingering in the air.
And all that good is still unfolding, quite plainly some days, and quite extravagantly on others.
It's important to remember those shiny, extravagant days in the midst of the rather plain ordinary ones. There's extravagance in those days, too...even if it's harder to see.
On Saturday it rained.
and we laughed.
