Clear as dirt.

Yesterday, the ground was dry enough and the temperature warm enough for my kids to play outside.  By some odd twist of timing, our schedule was also free enough to allow this romp to happen.  I opened the front door and the back door and let the fresh air flow while I began to prepare dinner, listening to the various adventures happening a few yards away.  There was mud and stains and dirty dishes and pink, sweaty faces.  Showers were necessary before dinner and I’m not positive that any of the clothes worn during these exploits will ever return to their former state.  Stain spray can only do so much when red clay monsters are afoot.  As I dealt with the internal struggle caused by the monotony of carrot peeling, I realized that our margins were too full.  I need to be more intentional about finding space on the pages of our story where something can be written by choice or not written if being blank is preferred.  Before any of these afternoon capers began, I had declined an invitation for a day trip after looking at our calendar and observing how many big events we attended consecutively over the past few weekends.  When the kids spent almost an hour and a half outside without asking me for anything other than some dishes to dig with, I felt affirmed in my decision.  We might use an entire bottle of stain spray in one load of laundry, but sometimes, a plan to have no plan is exactly the plan you need.