We’re wandering, slowly but with purpose, into this second week of summer. It’s these slow days that hint at how fast it’s going. Blah blah blah cliche.
My little one is taking a dance class. She is fearless and, I am told, has a lot to say. I smile and indicate that I’d rather she talk than be silent. Or silenced. She would hardly pry herself off my leg just a year ago.
My middle twin is suffering from some bug phobias. This is the logical progression from last week’s abandonment issues, I suppose. We’ve gone from “Mom, where are you going?” (“The bathroom.”) to “What do I do if a moth lands on me?”
Oldest is chatty and now that he’s not the littlest on the playground anymore, quite magnanimous. He was praised by several parents the other day for his manner and kind nature towards the little ones trying to join in his game. Just year ago he’d regularly cry that no one handed him the ball. And by “cry” I mean “bawl,” and by “handed him the ball” I mean “let him play.”
The three are thriving on my summer menu of “Yes, and.” I am trying to say yes to as many requests as possible, a far cry from School Year Mom, who is the Queen of No, Not Now (and the Duchess of Fat Chance, Bub). Yes, sure, as we hit Day 9 of Quite Unsummer Weather, you may have a Day of Screens. Yes, sure, we can get a cookie. Yes, you may stay up 15 minutes later. Tempered of course by the “Drop that Cheeto!”
We’re reading Harry Potter together. For 30 minutes every evening, we’re transported. It’s lovely. It’s a parenting moment I’ve been waiting for since they were born.
The neighborly landscaping occurs now 6 days a week. To be fair it’s not all the one neighbor. But it is all quite early and loud. I sing Pleasant Valley Sunday, also early and loud.
I’m still experiencing moments of overload. Our car needed to be jumped because i forgot to close the door after the last round of pick ups. I had left it open to get Little in the house during the ongoing rainstorms and just never turned around until the next morning.
Sometimes the constant child face-to-face time makes it hard to feel centered. They lie in wait, wanting to spend time with me and I feel guilty for wanting to hide in a corner for an hour. Due to Minecraft, they want to learn about gems and rocks and earth science. We research them together, and I’m amazed at how much they absorb and how readily we all jump down the youtube/Google rabbit hole. Summer is tough for kids who don’t excel at sports. I’m glad we have other activities.
I can’t think and craft strong writing at this time, but I can leave these little footprints to go back and digest when school starts and the house is achingly quiet.