I know that December is hours away and I know that Christmas is wonderful. But November forever, you guys. There’s nothing manufactured about November. It’s the pause between the plastic ghosts and furry spiders of October and the twinkly lights of December. The sky goes from light to dark just in the span of our walk. The kids pick up sticks, point out birds. Abby trots along, nose to the ground, hoping to track down one of the bunnies that live under the bushes of the nature walk. Tovi and Cruz and Abby walk ahead while London squats down to pick up the exact stick she spies. She sees a bird and sprints off on her chubby legs, off the path and into the overgrowth of plants lining the slough. I catch her by the waist and swing her back onto the trail.
Four is a magical age and eighteen months is a magical age and somehow they hit both of these ages simultaneously. I tell you, we’ve hit the kid jackpot with these two. They are so different and they still want to hang out with each other constantly. Cruz was in timeout the other day — for sitting on London — and she went and sat next to him on the stairs because they just want to be together all the time. They race together. They climb on fences. Cruz declares himself the leader and London runs past him so that she can be first. The sky turns pink then orange then indigo and I’m about to burst from all the simple beauty rushing around me. November forever.