Splashing in the puddles.

The other day, 

When it was still warm Spring weather,

it rained.

I took the advantage,

I let go of the fear. 

I took my girls outside

to jump in the Springtime puddles.

The warm rain had left a small puddle in our driveway

where the nutrients and rich soil

drift in the tiny river 

covering the small delicate feet of my children.

Children don't understand the complexities of Motherhood.

The dark black footprints left on my white carpet,

The wet hands clinging to my cotton shirt,

tugging at me because they are barefoot.

They watch as the snails creep by. 

They too, are enjoying the wetness and smell of a fresh rain.

Splashing and jumping,

Splashing and jumping,

The girls become mud monsters,

Attacking me with their muddy hands and feet.

I lean against a brick wall and watch them.

I am filing this memory in a special place. 

Watching the clouds roll in, another rain storm is coming,

our time is short. 

I sigh and take more pictures,

because soon they will be all grown up,

and just like me, they will keep their shoes on, 

and lean back, 

and take pictures themselves.