The big girls are outside playing during the lull on this forecasted rainy day. I can hear the Gator running from one end of the yard to another and then its sound takes a pause. I haven't peaked out to see what they are doing, just yet.
I find myself intrigued at the idea of what they might be up to. My imagination is probably completely wrong but that doesn't stop it from rambling on.
Kyra walked out of the house with a sketch pad and pencil in her hand. Moments before going outside, she was perched in a chair by the back door, feet pulled up into the seat as she held the paper to her knees which was by her chest. She was busily drawing something she spied outside, never noticing my gaze.
Kyra is our creative one. She likes to sketch and draw still life or whatever is in her imagination. She is often plucking trash out of our recycle bin to "reuse" for yet another creative project. She's the one who pulls leaves from the branches only to glue them to a piece of paper and call it art. She see the world in a way I always wished I could.
Lydia walked out of the house with her Cars book in hand. She likes to carry that book around, identifying which cars she has, which ones she wants, which ones are nice and mean. She studies the pictures and remembers little facts about many of the cars from the countless number of times Jeremy or myself have read this book to her.
Usually, when they're together on the Gator, they're collecting things to make nests or finding various critters and relocating them against their will. Lots of times, they'll drive to their favorite tree to take a break and climb it, sitting in the higher branches discussing whatever is on their minds. A lot of times they pretend to either be or chase various animals.
The two of them are an amazing team.
I often wonder if they even realize there is a three year difference between them. My wondering sometimes gives way to internal giggling when they point out this "too big" or "too little" difference, but usually its when its in their best interest. "I can't do that because I'm too little..." when asked to do a chore. "You can't do that because you're not big like me..." when wanting to do something alone.
Ninety percent of the time they're inseparable, the other ten percent is a mix between sibling bickering and quiet time alone.
I wonder if they'll be this close after they grow up. I'm certainly not close to any of my siblings, mostly because we have absolutely nothing in common outside of DNA. I'll hope for more of a relationship between my girls once they've left my nest, but I certainly won't hold it against them if it doesn't work out. Blood may be thicker than water but that doesn't make it the glue that binds.
No need to rush into that train of thought. I think I like remaining in today; right now.
Right now I hear the Gator stopped, again. The girls are pretending something about horses. I can only assume this from the loud neighing that erupts though out their play.
How glorious it is to watch and listen them play. If I get to heaven, I hope these are among the sights and sounds I'll hear.