M just finished off 3/4s of a container of strawberries by herself. Dinner, done. (She ate a little bit of chicken pot pie earlier.)
I always imagined my daughter would spend her summers as I did, absorbing the wind and sun and water, right into her blood. The crickets would sing her lullabies, the frog and owl calls would be her white noise. She would sleep easily and deeply after a day splashing in the shallow water, collecting rocks and shells, searching for frogs, turtles and fish. I would weed and plant and tend the gardens while she picked flowers and chased butterflies.
Now that she’s two, and learning how to act like a human being (I was not a fan of age one), my fantasies of country parenting are becoming a reality. She splashes and frolics in the lake (always supervised, mind you), she pulls weeds and plays nearby while I prepare the garden, she spends time with the neighbors searching for frogs or running up and down their docks.
Hopefully this summer will be more of today. We will pick vegetables from our garden, spend hot afternoons in the water, and get dirty and sandy until our skin smells like the earth. Neighbors and friends and family all becoming the “village” that it takes to raise a happy and healthy girl.