Fall is the perfect season for boys. First, there’s a natural cushion of leaves blanketing much of the yard, so if anyone falls off the treehouse, the chance of broken bones is slightly diminished. Or so I like to tell myself.
Second, it’s soccer season, and soccer is mostly running. Lots and lots of running, and very few injuries.
Third, the weather is still good. Not too rainy (except on soccer days), not too hot, and cold enough for a jacket (see note above about extra cushioning).
I used to love being indoors (preferably curled up with a good book), but having boys has changed all that. Clearly, boys were created to live outdoors; in fact, the outdoor life yields all sorts of benefits. For one, it means Ken and I can converse at the dinner table. On a good day the noise level at our table is, well, deafening. (Just ask the grandparents.) These are not words, mind you, they’re just…sounds. Car sounds, shooting sounds, bodily sounds. Playing outside expends some of the energy that goes into making sound.
On days they can’t go outside, the boys compensate in other ways. They kick each other during dinner. They fall off their chairs. (Actually, they do that anyway.) They spill their milk because the pent-up energy leaks out of their arms. They follow the letter of the law, not the spirit. But playing outdoors tires them out so they can’t devise ways to come really, really close to breaking the rules without actually violating them.
I once read a story about a mom locking her kids out of the house on a cold winter day. Back then, it mildly shocked me. Now I shrug, what’s the big deal? They were probably hitting each other at the dinner table…