changing seasons

Last night, we hooked up the sprinkler one last time to enjoy what's sure to be the last of our summer days this year.  Mid-September and near 100 degrees?  A bit strange after having near winter-like conditions on Friday - cold, with temperatures dropping into the 40s and windy.  

But that's Kansas for you.  Finicky and unpredictable.  

 

As much as I love summer and always place it highest on the top of season pedestals, I know we will relish in the best of fall too.  It's one of our prizes for us midwesteners who put up with the crazy temperature swings, wind, elements and extreme heat in the summer and brutal cold in the winter.  

We know its fleeting and will change so quickly that it will only seem like tomorrow, we'll wake up and notice the leaves are changing, the air is much crisper in the mornings, and suddenly pumpkin everything sounds delicious.  We find the good in each season and hold onto that and realize one day the difficulty of each season is already behind us.  

 

As Henry ran back and forth, back and forth, back and forth through the sprinkler, only stopping to get a quick drink from the fountains, intent on making sure I watched him, Nelle clapping her big brother on, happy as can be spilling Cheerios all over her blanket while Andrew worked on a new, big adventure in the backyard, I realized this season of toddler tantrums ...

 

...when asked, "do you want to wear the white shirt or the grey shirt today?" is a question that does take two minutes of pondering both options, 

only to hear wailing "white shirt, white shirt!!" after you've just heard a decisive "grey shirt!"only seconds before.

...when a glass of orange juice is left waiting on the table with the rest of your breakfast, all of a sudden to appear clutched between two chubby toddler hands in his sister's room, and he says, "I drink mommy's orange juice!" and then the glass slips and shatters all over the floor and rug. 

 

...when you ask if your toddler twice if he wants eggs for breakfast because he always does, but he still says no, you don't make him an egg for breakfast, but once you leave to go change his sister's diaper, he swoops your egg off your plate and scarfs it down before you can get back...and licks the jelly off your toast.  And this is the same little boy who the next day you decide to make his own egg no matter what, set his plate down on the table 

with egg cut up into bite size pieces, and he dumps it on the floor.

...when you decide to go set out to buy him new shoes because his current pair has suddenly gotten way to small, he throws a tantrum in the store, and then the next morning runs outside, chasing the dog, and after a few minutes, comes back in and finds you in the back bedroom, announcing "I have puppy potty on my new shoes!"  Which means puppy's potty is also allllll over the floor in a little foot print pattern 

from the back door into the bedroom.  

(Yes, it's been that kind of week.)

 

...this season of toddler tantrums, just like the changing seasons, will be fleeting.

(Repeat, repeat, repeat intermittently mixed in with deep breaths and counting to 10.)  

 

As Andrew and I finished checking on the kids before slipping under our own covers last night, making sure Henry was just so in his bed and Nelle had a paci within reach, he reminded me, "It doesn't last forever.  They're only little once.  We're going to look back on this and wonder where it went."  

And he's right.  This is but a mere season, slightly changing and marching on each day.  

The week is almost over again, there are more leaves on the ground than yesterday, 

and I felt a distinct crispness in the air this morning on our walk that called for a pile of blankets on little laps to cover teeny tiny toes.  

Season's changing.