Life at the sandbox

I laid beside my oldest, trying desperately to coax her cranky butt into taking a nap...which are pretty much non-existent in her world these days. I figured that the extra snuggle time would cause her brain to slow down enough to give her some much needed rest. Read that: I was totally making excuses to get a few minutes of shut eye myself.

Abby: (grinning from ear to ear as her eyes lit up with joy) I played with Andrew in the sand today at recess. He threw sand in my hair.
Me: Did he get in trouble?
Abby: Oh no. It was fine. I threw sand at him too. It's okay as long as Mrs. S doesn't see you. We had a lot of fun together.
After managing a long lecture about "obeying the rules no matter if anyone is watching or not", I couldn't help but reflect on how much she has changed in the past few months. 3 months ago, she was running into arms of our pastor at church and wrapping her lanky arms around his neck. Everything we heard was "Brother David this" and "Brother David that" as she professed her love for him on a regular basis. But that season has seemed to have passed for the most part, and she has moved on to smaller and younger men in her life...specifically, those who still have hair.
I overheard the Absters talking to her friend the other day about the boys in their class, and I felt like an outsider in her life for the first time. She had opinions and likes and dislikes and giggled like a little...well...schoolgirl when talking about her little sandbox friend. I'm still learning a lot each day in the life of mothering kiddos that continue to grow older with each rise of the sun. This week's lesson: If you like someone, just throw some sand their way.