{Midsummer}

They run out back after dinner, and I watch them each light on something different from my place here at the sink - Jonah scoots around the drive on a scooter.  Fiona pumps high and strong on the swings.  Ben finds a soccer ball to kick around and Dinah climbs the play structure.

After dishes are done, I fill a glass with ice water, grab four popsicles from the freezer, pop fresh baby in the sling and set out toward the garden.  My kids line up, youngest first, to pick out a flavor, and then slurp down frozen goodness while I locate the garden hose and give my neglected vegetables a nice long drink.

Before long, everyone needs to take a turn showering tomatoes and kale, basil and peppers.  When the plants have had enough, I reclaim the hose -- and turn it on those growing children of mine instead.  They shriek and run and skip and dance.  They marvel at the rainbow that appears, the setting sun setting waterdrops all a-sparkle.  An airplane soars above, and Jonah stops, mouth agape, to watch it buzz by.

The shadows lengthen and its time to go inside.  I have them strip out by the clothesline, and we all giggle at wearing nothing but underpants in the gathering dusk.  I line up their drenched clothes big to small, a snapshot of stair step-siblings at this moment in time.

Later on, mewling babe still clinging close to my chest, I tuck them each in, turn fans around to blow cool air in, ruffling the sheets.  Last drinks of water and promises of more fun tomorrow.

Its just a normal midsummer night, but like all things ordinary, therein lies the beauty of it all.