Eau de Outside

Today's weather was perfect, sometimes sunny and sometimes not, with an ideal moderate temperature and an awesome breeze. NTB, but my bub was nearly perfect today too. We had gymnastics this morning and, come circle time, he reported to the center of the gym and sat right down, no coaxing necessary. He did his stretches. He clapped along to the songs. He touched his knees and toes as directed. Sure, he would periodically hover right over the instructor's boom box, but he did so without adjusting the volume, turning it off, or falling into it. When the time came for actual gymnastics, he did the bearwalk for three whole feet. It was a pleasure. For once in a large group setting involving me and the bub, I did not break a sweat.

After a respectable nap, we met my cousin at the park. The good behavior continued. There were several attractive ride-on toys that did not belong to him at the park and, of course, he really wanted to ride on them. This past Sunday at our neighborhood's "alley party," the bub faced a similar situation and, much to the chagrin of me and the hubby, dealt with it by hitting another toddler in the face in an attempt to take the driver's seat. (We apologized profusely and then headed inside in shame). But today, the bub showed no signs of violence. He was able to content himself with pushing a little girl's car-thing as she drove and, later on, to have his attention diverted to both a wagon and a Hippo. Blessed are the peacemakers. NTB.

Arriving home from our walk back from the park, I noticed a familiar scent while taking the bub out of his stroller. I sniffed a couple of times before I placed the scent. He smelled like the outside. When I was an adolescent, there were few crimes that got to me more than that of sporting eau de outside. Often at family dinners, I would look with disgust at my younger-but-not-youngest brother (who turned 29 today, by the way) and protest, "You smell like the outside." He earned that scent by being a good old fashioned kid--riding his bike and playing endless games of baseball, football, basketball, soccer, H-O-R-S-E, and etc. with the kids in the neighborhood. Sure, I sometimes played outside, but I didn't have that much spare time, what with the Babysitters Club novels I needed to read, the Kate and Allie reruns I needed to watch, the imaginary students I needed to teach in my basement classroom, and, as I got older, the junior high history tests I needed to give myself ulcers over. Perhaps that outside smell was just especially repugnant (ninth grade vocab. word) to me because I had not been outside myself.

So anyway, we got home today and I realized that my bubby smelled like the outside. I guess I don't need to tell you that I didn't mind one bit. It was a great day to be his mom. It was a great day to be outside. And, at the risk of getting too sentimental, I'll say that it was also a great day to be alive. NTB.