The Sounds of Springtime
“Luca, pick up your toys so we can go!” I call upstairs for the 3rd time. It’s the first nice week of spring in the midwest and I want to take every opportunity to get outside and enjoy the warm air and sunshine we’ve been without for the last several months.
I open a couple windows in the kitchen to let the breeze in and gaze at our freshly cut backyard. The grass is getting green and in another month or so we’ll be able to plant flowers. The winters are incredibly long, but those first days of spring are worth the wait.
I don’t actually hear any of the Hot Wheels cars being dumped into bins, so I climb the stairs to my son’s bedroom and peek inside.
“LUCA. WHY IS NOTHING PUT AWAY?” I shout. I yell at him for what feels like the 12th time this morning to pick up his toys. And I yell at him for not listening to me the first time I asked. Or the second, or the third. He slowly starts throwing cars into the white plastic bin and something outside his window catches my eye.
The older couple that can often be found walking around our little neighborhood is passing by our house. I see them look at each other with amusement and glance up at Luca’s open window.
Great, our whole neighborhood probably had a front row seat to me yelling like a crazy person this morning. Well that’s embarrassing.
I can remember causing a fuss about something as a kid and my mom or dad telling me “shhhh, the windows are open.” Apparently, I still need that reminder. After all, in addition to impromptu playtime in the driveway with neighbor friends, walks around the cul-de-sac, and all the other wonderful things there are about having neighbors in close proximity to our own house, our neighbors have the ability to overhear everything, just as they did in my own neighborhood growing up.
I think back to all the things I said this morning, probably a little too loudly, and I cringe. If the neighbors heard me tell Luca to pick up his toys, they probably heard me tell him that he has to flush every time, “even if it’s just pee.” They would have also heard me telling him to get his finger out of his nose. And his pants.
Our windows have been open for a few days, on and off now. Did any of our neighbors walk by right when I happened to see vomit on the floor of my bedroom yesterday? We have two small children and two large dogs and no real evidence for who was responsible for the vomit. “Who threw up???” I remember calling out to no one in particular. And then looking over at our unmade bed with confusion, “and why is the toothpaste tube in my bed?”
(I still don’t know the answer to either of these questions).
Did they hear me say, “how are you still hungry” to one kid and “how can you not be hungry?” to the other? I can only imagine how many times they’ve overheard “GIA KNOCKED DOWN MY TOWER!” followed by the saddest, loudest cries you’ve ever heard. I only wish people could see the cute way Gia will go hug her big brother when she hears him cry. And the way his arms reach around her to hug her back.
If people overhear the members of this family yelling and fighting, I can only hope they also hear all the dozens of times I say “good job” and “I love you” every day. I hope they heard me tell Luca this morning “you are so creative!” after showing me his latest art project. I hope in addition to hearing me impatiently say, “put your shoes on please,” and “don’t do that,” they hear the joy of two little kids running and playing, their giggles ringing out through the house.
Do our neighbors hear us talking as we eat dinner as a family? Do they hear us say repeatedly, “eat over your plate!”
Do they hear all the times my husband and I have yelled across the house to each other “thanks for unloading the dishwasher,” and “did you give Luca his medicine?”
Did they hear Gia crying last night? Did they hear us ask each other this morning, “how many times did you get up with Gia last night?” If only they could have heard us counting all the new teeth our sweet little girl was getting.
I smile, thinking about someone possibly overhearing Luca ask, “how did the baby get in your belly?”
Luca finally tosses the last of the cars into the bin and I quickly usher both kids downstairs to get their shoes on before they have a chance to get any more toys out. We all slip on our sandals and skip the coats, and a feeling of contentment washes over me. I’ve been waiting months to not have to bundle us all up just to leave the house. Those first spring days are just… different, in the best possible way.
We walk outside and Luca immediately runs to the front yard and grabs a huge stick, his sister toddling after him. The sky is bright blue, without a cloud in the sky, and the sun is hot on our faces. For the first time in what feels like forever, we feel warm air and sunshine on our bare arms. The small tree in the front of our yard will soon start to get those little white flowers I love so much. It only blooms for a short time though, so I remind myself to watch for it, and enjoy those little white flowers while they’re here. I remind myself to enjoy all the things these short-lived spring days bring.
And also, looking up at our house, I make a mental note that all the windows are open.
