Sunday, 1 September 2013
Don’t magic my sister
We have moved into our new house, our home for the next two years. It is a regular looking townhouse, red brick, 3 stories and a basement. Hubby and I are happy – it is a lovely house, in a good location, in a good neighbourhood.
For our girls, it is like a castle, and they are living a magical life. They are loving being in Ottawa – and what four and two year old wouldn’t.
Because, besides other wonderful things (like Mumma being a SAHM), they live directly opposite a playground that is perfect for the 0-6 child .
The magical playground as I like to think of it.
It is magical playground, where we have met wonderful children and wonderful parents. The Eldest has two new best friends, both also 4, beautiful girls who play so well together and love each others company. It is like The Eldest has known them all her life.
In the magical playground, the two new best friends, have wonderful Mums – one Canadian, one Australian, who have become my new best friends. Lovely ladies to chat with, share stories with, find my Canadian feet with, who have helped to keep any homesickness at bay, who I am enjoying getting to know and become friends with.
The magical playground has made The Eldest braver. 'What's your name?', 'Will you play with me?'. A willingness to make new friends without holding Mum's hand. Friendships that last an hour or two. Or develop into longer term, like weeks.
The magical playground has made The Youngest overcome her tactile issues with walking on sand and getting dirty. She climbs, and runs, and swings and slides, wearing herself out so that the afternoon nap has stretched from one hour to almost two. The magical playground is enclosed so I can’t lose The Youngest. Magical.
The magical playground has toys that people have donated, that nobody steals, that the children love to play with. Ride on cars and bikes that they fly down the mini hill on, using barefeet as brakes. Buckets and shovels and kitchens and shopping carts. A drinking fountain provides water, essential for the making of mud pies and other magical playground treats.
The magical playground is giving my children the opportunity to live childhood the way it should be. Outdoors, endless play, getting dirty, friendship, fun.
In the magical playground squirrels frolic in the trees, and sticks are magic wands. It is a place where The Eldest looks out for her little sister. As magic was flying around, changing children into different animals and places, The Eldest very clearly said to her new best friends:
“Don’t magic my sister. She is too little.”
Followed by “Mum, don’t worry. No one is going to magic [The Youngest]. I promise she will be ok. I am looking out for her.”
Ah yes, the magical playground. It even builds sisterly love, family bonds and protective behaviours.
A magical existence indeed.
Posted by Jen at 18:22