Mommy Molecules and Parenting Particles: Dear Neighbors...

To my lovely Neighbors...

It's true. My lawn in the back of the house is calf-high, littered with weeds you've never even heard of, and more brown than green come the middle of August. There are toys scattered, vines choking the entire length of the chain link fence, threatening the basketball hoop and grill alike, and the garden no longer exists. And I know, the front lawn though cut a smidge more often than the obscured back, isn't a whole lot prettier with it's patches of yellow and basketball sized holes where the woodchucks are burrowing. In fact, I'm sure right now you're thinking fondly back to its glory days when the previous owners, retired, meticulous and patient as they were, grew lush, ankle high blades of perfection, flowers and neatly trimmed bushes.

I do indeed remember the one time a fallen branch fell onto your (which is to say our but we're happy to let you use it since we've all got black thumbs here) garden. I do in fact realize it was days before the branch was removed...by you.

The thing is, neighbors beside, behind, across and to the corner, I've got this little family here...

You might see them sometimes, stomping down those weeds, loving the tickle of that long green grass on their bare knees, kicking that weather worn soccer ball to the other side of the yard before tiring and abandoning it for another unforeseen stretch of time. Somedays carting out more playthings to enjoy under ceiling of sky and cloud and sun instead of plaster and lathe. Soaking that vitamin D into their sweet, soft skin.

And you see, I know I could be "productive" at that time. Maybe whack a weed, trim a tree or maintain the lawn...it's just that...

Well, the lawn doesn't giggle and twirl in her dress and beg me to watch. The trees provide just the right shade for a perfect picnic on a blanket. It's so much more fun hunting for that soccer ball in a tangle of brush. The backyard is their veritable secret garden and my lovely ladies are too busy exploring and asking me to hold their hand for me to be terribly concerned with its upkeep.

It's nature...isn't it ok if I let it grow the way it will, at least just for now lest I miss seeing my babies grow in the perfect way that they will?

I know what you're thinking by this point, dearest neighbors and occasional passersby: that spouse of mine. I know once in a while you might wonder why the man of the house isn't abreast of its current outdoor physical condition, and if he is, why isn't he acting? But I'm sure you'll understand the love and desire for time spent together when two people are apart far more than they'd like and how that can overshadow almost everything around them screaming for their attention. How when he and I at last end up in the house awake and at the same time after a long day at work, tedious hours spent studying, or child rearing, the rest of the world just kind of fades to a dull drone in the background of this amazing moment that is ours and ours alone. Yardwork? For the birds.

I'm sorry, then, if you're offended by the eyesore that is our yard. I sincerely apologize to the previous owners who surely drive past and discuss at length the neglect their former home is subjected to.

But know this....

Within these four stucco walls, we're so very hard at work building our memories...