Sundays are family days in our house. We always do something, maybe we'll hit a museum or a park. But the rule is that we do it together.
I have visions that these are going to be days my kids will remember when they are older, perfect days forever etched in their memories. More often they are days I would like to forget. Someone cries, someone throws a tantrum, they both fight. Then I worry is the forced togetherness too much, should there be time for individuality instead.
But it's not too much. The kids can and should be able to hold it together for a few hours of family time. It shouldn't be a battle. So we have talks about choosing happiness, choosing joy rather than choosing to be in a bad mood. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't but we soldier on.
There are times, maybe one in ten, where it is all worth it. The fights over what to do, the tantrums in the museum are forgotten on a sunny and warm day in the park.
We chose to follow a path along a small lake. We rambled on looking at trees, rocks and plants. We stopped to stare in wonder at holes in trees and in the ground. Who lives there? We explored the lake's shore. Fifteen, twenty minutes spent watching a frog in the water, laughing as his whole body puffed up to let loose a might croak.
We found a waterfall. We sat on rocks at the base letting the water spray us. We reached out to touch the cool, clear water. We looked for tracks of animals who might have come early in the morning to drink, to splash, to play.
We walked on through native prairie. We climbed trees. We discovered a beautiful field of flowers, a riot of purple and white. We laughed at the flower's name. Phlox. "Momma it's a field of phlox. A fabulous, field of phlox. I wonder if we'll see a fox in the phlox."
It's days like this, one in ten kind of days, that I etch into my memory. These are the days that keep me going every Sunday. These are the days that make Family Day worthwhile.