It's In The Air

DISCLAIMER:

Megan: I must be PMS-ing. I totally lost it when I came home today.

Me: Me too. I'm making Rice Krispie treats, listening to some sad music and drinking PBR (from a can).

Megan: Rice Krispie treats sound sooo good right now.


Over the last few months I've been making plans for summer. Plans to make a bunch o money, basically. However, one day very recently I had an epiphany!

This is the last time that Olivia won't be in school all day, everyday for the REST OF HER LIFE!!! Oh geez. I just started crying! Where did the time go? What the hell happened to the first day of school three years ago?! I remember it like it was yesterday! Damn those people that told me, "It'll just fly by!"

So...my summer plans have changed.
I make these plans knowing full well that come July I will think it was the stupidest plan on the planet but I also know that (in the words of Paul Simon hehe) "these are the days of miracle and wonder" and I will never get them back.

So I will temper, "Get me the hell out of this house!!" with, "oh my baby is growing up, sob, sob" and I will hope for a good balance of spending time enjoying these last days of freedom from obligation with keeping mom's sanity intact.

It's a tricky balance for sure but I hope to come away from this summer with a good healthy dose of snuggles, blanket forts, giggling, monkey legs wrapped around me, her brilliant ideas, sweaty baby neck (mmm), lots of talking, and all the wonderful things about my 5 year old sweetie. I will store them away and 10 years from now (oh god. 15!) I will cherish them.

Two things that made me cry recently:

Pioneer Woman. The picture of that beautiful baby waking up then falling back to sleep in the way that only a toddler can do.

And from Soule Mama:

"As a new season of growth begins for us in the garden, I feel the growth of my children too. I'm reminded through this seasonal rhythm we celebrate and treasure - these yearly markers of time passing. One tells me ever-so-gently that I'm putting the potatoes in the ground incorrectly. He knows how to do this better than I (and he really does - with his memory and his body that has gardened his whole life. I still look in books). One explains to his sister in great detail and with accuracy just how it is that all that worm poop is good for her peas. She, old enough now to write, makes markers for each crop with an enormous amount of pride. And this year, I feel the kicks of a happy, vibrant boy on my back - the one who was still just a dream himself at planting time last year.
And thus, another season of growing begins."