The night before last, I spent most of what should have been my sleeping hours, rubbing Ava’s shins. Growing pains. Do you remember having them growing up? They were terrible, and worse is when they happen to your barely-four-year-old who is: a. already a bit of an obsessive hypochondriac, and b. has no idea what is happening to her legs. It did not a restful night make.
Years ago, when I was in college I took a Child Development class. I’m still not sure why that particular course was required; it had absolutely nothing to do with my major, but I took it nonetheless. One day, in the middle of a lecture on helping children interact with nature, my professor said: “There’s no such thing as inappropriate weather for children, just inappropriate clothing.” I don’t know why, but it was one of those random bits of advice you get in life that just stick with you, and it has come back to me over and over again in the past 13 years since I finished the course.