Summer Saturdays

If every Saturday summer night could be like this one, I would be one happy mama.

We took Rachel to Grant Park just after she awoke from a huge, almost three-hour nap. She woke up in just enough time for us to get our sandwiches, drinks and fruit, the picnic blanket, stroller, toy bag and diaper bag together. (I love this current stage of Rachel's but I will be really glad when we don't have to lug Napoleonic Army provisions everywhere). We had a leisurely walk to the park, getting there just as the concert started, and set up the blanket right near a tree that a dozen kids were simultaneously trying to climb.

Rachel spent the evening trying to climb on Drew and act like she wanted our food, but when we offered her some, she wasn't interested. Too bad -- I had hoped she would like plums as much as nectarines, my two favorite summer fruits.

She couldn't keep her eyes off the bigger kids, who were running and screaming and throwing grass at each other. Every once in a while she would make a little disappointed whine, as if to let us know that she really, really wanted to run with the kids but just can't yet. But she stood up a lot, using our legs for balance and even standing for a second or two on her own.

We saw two girls laughing and rolling on their dad's chest while he kissed them on their heads. Turns out one girl was his daughter, the other his niece; their mothers are twins. The girls looked like sisters. I looked over at them and their dad and told Drew, "that'll be you someday." Next year we figure we will spend the concert chasing after Rachel, who no doubt will be bored by the music and will want to run and explore.

We met a little boy, Simon, 15 months, who thought nothing of marching over and grabbing Rachel's toy car and cups. She kind of looked at him with puzzlement, then buried her head in Drew's lap. Simon's grandma remarked how generous Rachel seemed. I am sure that will end when she figures out the concept of other kids taking what's hers. I just hope she doesn't get whacked too much, or that she doesn't decide to do too much of the whacking.

The concert ended with a "toy symphony." The kids in the audience were given plastic flutes and got to play them with the Portland Symphony. Drew noted that if Rachel ever wants to get into music school, she can honestly say that she spent several summers playing with the symphony (as soon as she is old enough for one of the flutes).

Ha ha, I said.

We walked her home through the cloudy, slightly cool night. Perfect weather. The rain in the air and the smell of charcoal grills reminded me of Africa. Someday, no matter how tightly we have to squeeze our pennies, I will take her there.