Tuesday, June 21, 2011
I almost can't believe that it's summer.
We're finding a rhythm for being home, together; re-negotiating our expectations of each other, our wants and needs and hopes. I don't have an answer for it all right now. As I sat eating lunch in a cafe with Cal, waiting to pick up Abbott from a playdate, I felt an unwinding. There was something about the sound of the fan, the bit of sweat slowly trickling down my back that settled me.
As I write this, the boys are outside with a neighbor. I hear them through the window, plotting about what they might be able to sell. Lemonade? Snow cones? Many ideas are tossed around. 'We're definitely not going to sell water, because people already have that.'
We have biked and biked and biked, and slept heavy, sun-and-exercise drugged sleeps. Exactly as I remember doing at their ages.