Andy and I fell in love with our house the moment that we walked through the door. It’s a small townhome tucked away from the surrounding chaos by a farm and a creek. While we don’t have much of a yard, the community property is well maintained and provides ample room for toddlers to run around like the little balls of energy that they are.
When we moved in it was a mostly child free neighborhood, but the past few years we have seen a baby boom. There are now a good number of toddlers running around, and Michael has become good friends with two of them. J, a boy the same age as Michael is one of the sweetest little boys I’ve ever met. He has big eyes, soft hair, and a smile that lights up his whole face. M, a girl that is a few months younger than the boys, is the queen of the neighborhood. She has beautiful blue eyes and dark curly hair and keeps the boys in their place like a pro.
I really love living in this neighborhood. I love hanging out on our lawns chatting with J and M’s parents while we watch the little terrors run around and play. It’s interesting to see how similar, yet different each child is. One thing they all have in common is a love of sidewalk chalk.
Each child started off with a nice, neat box of side walk chalk, but it didn’t take long before it started to migrate. Some of the chalk made it to the other toddlers’ houses, and some of it has ended up under cars, in the storm drains, under the neighbor’s shrubs. It’s truly become community chalk. Walk outside, look around, and you are bound to find at least one piece of chalk.
Not only have they sprinkled the neighborhood with chalk, they have also marked up the sidewalks, driveways, a few houses, a couple of trees, and maybe some other things that I shouldn’t mention. (I don’t take responsibility for what happens when the dads are in charge.) They are like a little gang of sidewalk chalk graffiti artists that tag the neighborhood with pastel scribbles and the occasional “H”. I’m not sure how our neighbors feel about all of these scribbles, but it never fails to make me smile when I come home after work and am greeted by a rainbow of squiggly lines. And, every rain storm wipes the slate clean and the process begins all over again.