A fenced yard is one of the tender mercies for mothers of young children. I know this is true.
How did I do it for almost five years at the Old Place? Oh, I have no idea. But now, now that we live in Heaven, and I’m beginning to feel like it may stick, like maybe no one is going to show up and tell us it’s all a joke and we have to move, I think I could give up disposable diapers, or running water, before I could go without a fenced yard. Well, ok, maybe not, but you get the idea.
Right now, I’m watching Beanie dance around on the patio, holding a large green Japanese parosel and twirling in the sunbeams- and I can see he forgot to put his undies on again. Jeffrey is zooming back and forth across the yard on his bike, and Abby is standing at the wall-length picture window in my sunlit studio banging on the glass and laughing at her brothers.
Because of our fenced backyard, the boys, and soon enough Abby too, have freedom they never knew and the Old Place. They can safely come and go as they please; creating forts and secret areas and hidden worlds away from mom’s eyes, but near enought that I know exactly where they are- a balm for them and for me.
Everyone needs a fenced backyard.