Just Rain

This was when I was still a super cool mom
who let her kids play in the rain
and before I unintentionally inflicted
muddy trauma on them.

Those of you who know me, know that I love rain. I feel like that is an understatement.

I am enamoured of rain. Rain is my other half (other than the Man, of course). It completes me. Without rain, I am nothing. Incidentally, the Man does know this about me, as is evident by this story here, and most days he's not jealous.

At any rate, you get the point.

Anyway, rain is hard to come by in this part of the U.S., I've discovered. At least lately. This is our third summer here, and each year we have had temperatures in the hundreds, drought warnings, water restrictions, and increase risk of fires. Yes, we are suffering for the Air Force.

Honestly, most days it doesn't bother me. Going outside in the heat reminds me of the Middle East, where you weren't sure if you were smelling a bakery down the road or the grass actually roasting in the sun. What I have really missed, though, is the rain.

We get rain storms every now and then, but they come accompanied by weird winds, tornado threats, and hail. They are exhilarating, for sure, but sometimes it would be nice to have a few days of steady, soft rain. And that's just what we've had since Sunday.

I don't know how it happened. I feel like we must have moved some place new, and I just wasn't paying attention. Is this really southwest Oklahoma?

In a nutshell, it has been wonderful. I have been in a daze of happiness. This afternoon, in fact, instead of taking a nap, I just sat in bed while the boys slept, read, ate second lunch, and listened to the rain. It was perfection. And I didn't even regret it later, as is so often the case these days when I miss my nap.

Can you see the tiny tear hanging
below his distraught eyes?
Happy first haircut, Tiny!

Then, after the boys woke up and we ran a couple quick errands, I decided to take them for a walk in the rain before we made dinner. In my opinion, this was a brilliant idea. I looked on this as a reward for their previous good behaviour considering the fact that I had dragged them to the DMV that morning and put Tiny through the trauma of his first haircut (he's fine--didn't even lose an ear or anything cool like that). And we were having a great time.

Until I talked Littles into jumping into a gigantic mud puddle.

In my defense, it looked incredibly fun. So much so that Tiny jumped right in after him. Then they both came out crying and distraught because for some reason, in their book, having mud in their shoes is not enjoyable. As the Man and I both said: whose kids are you? Luckily, I had taken the above picture of them before they dissolved into their own puddle of whining and had to be immediately taken home and thrown into the bathtub.

Regardless, I had fun. And while they were cheerily de-mudding themselves, I made a wonderful mess of curry for dinner and spent more time indulging myself by watching the rain out the window.

Yes, I am spoiled.