Laughter

Laughter is the best medicine. I have heard that quoted everywhere from Reader's Digest to the staffroom when teachers are barely hanging on at the end of a rough term. It is so true. After four months that were the very busiest of the past twelve-and-a-half years of married life we are sitting back, relaxing, and laughing.

Yesterday, as I attempted to take the dog (which I am dog sitting, not ours) for a walk (not the jumping party she clearly wanted) Fiona and Josiah toddled along. They really toddled. Jo was pulling our little red sled, backwards, up the hill towards the reserve resembling a little green Michelin Man. Fiona kept walking ahead of him, then going back and asking, "When are you going to hurry up, Jo," in that big-sister-with-no-patience-for-pokey-little-brothers voice that all big sisters have used (I know as I am a big sister who still uses that voice).

Keeping a safe distance from the kids, so they would not be mauled in an oh-so-friendly way by a puppy who REALLY wanted to be friends, I watched them sort out the pulling of the sled without my running interference. I was impressed with how they interacted. There was the typical tone of long-suffering patience from the elder, and lots of stirring the pot from the younger, but they didn't hit one another or get mad. They worked it out. And they laughed. At the top of their lungs with complete freedom. It was a moment to hold on to and savour.

Maybe I need to learn to step back a bit in my parenting and let my kids work it out themselves more often.

We stayed outside until well past dark (which is currently at 4:20) playing in our three inches of snow without the puppy (who has almost no hair and can't handle the cold well at all). It reminded me of how I loved winter as a kid. All in all, a good day.