This moment
I’m standing in Grandpa’s backyard, pushing my son on the swing; by the time this article is published, it will be a little later. This piece is about the present moment. I was inspired by Joel’s blog post, and I thought I’d try this style of writing myself. The article is written originally in Hungarian and then translated to English, and I have used some AI help to correct the grammar.
The weather is beautiful; it’s finally warmed up a bit, so we came over to Grandpa’s place. Grandpa set up the soccer goals, and the cousins are playing soccer out back while my little boy swings. The cherry tree is in full bloom; if the blossoms don’t freeze, we’ll have plenty of cherries this summer.
Before we left, we rearranged the kids’ seats in the car: my daughter had outgrown her car seat, so it made sense to move her to the side with the door that opens normally (one door has a child lock that’s always engaged), and my other son went in the back. This is a more practical setup.
This morning—and part of the afternoon—was total chaos. Maybe the kids can already sense that spring break is ending, which is why they’re acting up more; maybe it’s the nice weather — I don’t know. The kitchen was echoing, and my nerves were frayed, so it feels good to be out here in the open air, listening to the pigeons cooing next door, basking in the sun, soaking up some vitamin D, and simply enjoying the quiet.
I’m already mentally preparing for tomorrow’s key handover: we’re finally getting the keys to our new house. There are still a few questions I want to ask the previous owners, such as when trash pickup occurs, where the entrance camera records, and whether it is recording at all — little practical details.
Then next week the chaos starts again in a different form. New projects are waiting for me at work, and my brother and I will paint the house; at least the kids will be at daycare or school during the day, so the noise level should be a little lower. I’ve noticed that, as I get older, noise bothers me more. I’m starting to understand the older people who used to tell us as kids to be quiet. I never thought this moment would come, but it seems I can’t escape it. It’s a little sad to think how we all grow old, but at the same time that’s just how life goes. Still, it’s nice to see the kids growing up, full of energy.
I’m glad I had an active childhood; I spent a lot of time outside running around, and it’s comforting to see my children share that same urge — even though sometimes I have to practically drag them out. My daughter is a huge bookworm and reads a lot, yet she’s also an amazing tree climber; she’s up in the cherry tree right now.
That’s all I have time for now; I’ll wrap this up so I can give my full attention to my son. Bye!