mary poppins meets the farm

we finally get to visit jen and joe's farm, where they house three boys, one girl, five goats, a dog, a farm cat with six kittens, and two horses. down the path lined with toilet planters leading to the quonset hut, on one side sits the metal grain-bin where they keep the goats at night and on the other sits the chicken coop.

off the porch of the rough, stuccoed farm house is an above-ground walmart pool with a view of the goat and horse pastures. green hills dotted with trees roll into the distance, making busy O street in the front hardly seem part of the landscape. farmers' cornfields mark the southern and western edges of the acreage denned in by shade trees.

down in the big kwonset hut where joe keeps his plumbing van and his tools is the place where the "magic" happens. as i let the kids know i am available as adult woman with crazy kid imagination, i become many things, from mary jane (peter/spiderman's girlfriend), to venom, to fellow spiderman, to just me getting to create stories and wonder in real life with real characters.

4 year-old nate is the boldest of all, asking to me to be his wife, which we pretend for awhile as we collaboratively narrate a drive-in movie with fast cars in the sky, the kids and i perched on top of a thick sheet of plywood propped against the metal quonset hut. 3-year-old sam goes from his mom in the house back and forth to us, asking me to push him on the tarzan rope but still a little too close to the ground to know how to pick up his legs. 7-year-old jake cuts nate a lot of slack while nate pretends to be in charge. from what i know of the dynamic of my older brothers growing up way before i was born, i imagine i am watching a re-telling of my brothers steve, ron, and tom. alexis, at 11, is the big sister writing plays that the boys have to practice before performing for the guests. i give them moral support in front of the adults and am the narrator.

after dinner, settled into chairs on the porch with the darkening sky, jen marks adult time busting out adult language and PG-13 jokes and stories. the kids burst into giggles at first and try their own antics to mark that it's not yet bedtime. i hold nate on my lap, where he's zipped himself into the not-your-average-joe plumbing sweatshirt his dad loans me. nate plays a game emerging from cocoon into butterfly, taking me along for a ride with a 40-pound-pregnancy that occasionally breaks into attempts at other adults' attention. finally he settles into contented whispers in my ear while the adults talk, laugh, and watch fireworks. little nate's hand tries to compete with clint's. i practice my mommy skills and eventually join in with the adults while nate's head gets heavier and hotter as he relaxes into sleep on my chest.

hanging out with recovering alcoholics there's no booze (except virgin pina coladas earlier in the day), but once adult-time really sets in, we're transported into bar sociality letting loose with coffee and cigarettes. non-alcoholic me can't handle the big-time of coffee late at night or cigarettes, but i tap a bit into my pot-smoking mentality, high off the little human in my lap who today loves me, laughing and playing along with the grown-ups while my gaze revolves from the people to the stars above and the fireworks bursting occasionally across my field of vision. little nate begins to doze while i feed him feelings of security, fun, and the truth that everything is good in the world, from his mom's colorful language to the splendor of fireworks and fireflies sizzling in the sky.

when it comes time to go, i ask clint to get the door because my hands are full of little boy in layers of blanket. i take nate up the steps and am not sure which bed is his but put him in a bed in one of the boys rooms. i tell nestling nate how fun it was to hang out with him and whisper sweet dreams, see you soon...

as clint and i drive home, come back into "the city" where cops wait on the O street shoulder for drunk drivers, joe calls and asks "where did heather put nate, anyway?" "i put him in a bed!" i exclaim across the front half of the car. "oh, okay... we'll check upstairs." clint jokes that i could have put nate on the couch or something, make him more visible to his parents. but i was carried away with playing mary poppins, visiting the farm, wondering if this could look something like my future. it is wonderful.