The mom hosting the party ended up preparing for the possibility of a few siblings and welcomed my daughter and a couple other younger siblings right in to the party! I was impressed, appreciative, and plan on crafting a nice little note to send her way.
Most of the moms spent the party sitting in a circle gossiping about the neighborhood they live in. They were busy dissecting the heinous amount of decorations one neighbor uses for Halloween, the copious amounts of sex the other neighbor's daughter is having in the car with her boyfriend, and who was videotaping who's bedroom window. I suddenly became slightly grateful that my neighborhood is so unfriendly.
But, as they went on and on about their gossip I got up and walked around. I got up and decided to just watch my kids play. Not hover - just observe. And what I saw was nothing short of amazing.
I watched my youngest, who's not much past her second birthday, play in a world of strangers with no inhibitions. She danced and laughed and scurried her way around the room enjoying her own imaginative world far more than those created by the kids around her. She climbed and fell and climbed and fell and climbed and fell again.
She didn't try to keep up with the big kids, but marched to her own beat, her own drummer - hell, her own band. She played with purpose, ease, and simple joy. She was the essence of youth.
She was simply a child.
At one point she caught me watching. She smiled, waved, and ran along to finish her game.
Damn, I love that kid!
