Thinking back, I can see how the last few summers were just a hot mess of messiness. Last year I had a four-ish month old. And anyone who has had a baby knows that this is the point when you start asking yourself, “why is it still so hard?” You just want time to move along. At least I did.
And the summer before that was the year we moved up here to start residency. And that was a summer for the books. We moved into an unconventional living situation, where I woke up the first night with an unwanted cat on my face. Lots of tears followed in the days ahead. So there’s that.
And the summer before that I had a three month old. So again, back to the, “what is my life? will I ever sleep again?” routine.
And before that…well my memory starts to fail me when I try to think that far back.
So here we are. Summer 2013. I am so in love with you. I haven’t even made it to the farmer’s market yet, and I am still obsessed.
And the pool. Oh the pool! The only thing more obscene than how much we pay for that gym/pool membership is how much I would pay for it. It’s a luxury, yes, but also sort of crucial to my life, so it borders on necessity.
This is the first year, as a mom, that I have truly enjoyed the pool. Taking a baby to the pool is just not fun. They just sit, and you feel stressed if their skin sees the sun for like point five seconds, and you end up asking yourself, “why, why are we here?” But with a three year old and a 17 month old, it is perfection. They both could stay there for hours. The main pool is actually huge, but there is a wading pool that is fenced off and gated, which allows them to be floatie-free.
After we pack our mornings full of play time, Brother Bear naps hard. Sister Friend not so much. But she is currently obsessed with her Music Machine cd from our Fruit of the Spirit week. That thing is seriously vintage. Takes me back. She calls it her “story,” and listening to it each afternoon in her room gives us both some down time.
Then after rest and dinner we try to squeeze out a little more time outside before the kids crash for bed time.
I am having her wear alot of the same clothes from last summer, because, why not? And I just can not get over how arms-y and legs-y she is this year! She just keeps growing.
And I sorta need it to stop, although I know it can’t, and it’s good.
She must keep becoming. As we all must.
But if I could pick a time to drag out, it would be this very summer. This stage. This savoring of our little piece of time and space. It has felt just the way summer should.