The summer heat has pushed all my desire to go outside back into the house. That fantasy of setting up our little kiddy pool and having lunch on the porch everyday? DEAD. When I look out the window and see the neighbor’s pool letting off steam, I just assume stay inside.
Its this time of year (along with the rest of the year) that I really fantasize about living up North. I know, it gets hot everywhere. However, I’m certain it doesn’t get FLORIDA HOT everywhere. Maine, Oregon, North California, Washington state (to name a few) are the places I dream of most. Mountains, Lakes, Snow, Seasons, Forests, Ocean… I want it all. I’d like to be able to stand outside for five minutes and not feel the need to run inside and take a shower. I’d like to check my mail without sweating. Its too fucking hot here.
It has taken some extra concentration for me to stay in the moment this summer. At the beginning of Summer, I felt I had to have my weeks planned out to where I could look at the calendar and we’d have somewhere to go, something to do… keep em’ busy, right? It was hard at first having Max home during the hours he was previously in school. It took some time but I (we) have adapted.
There’s lots of TV and movie watching, books being read (Max’s new favorite is, “Amazing Dinosaurs [1]”), and indoor playing going on around here. One of my favorite things to do outside of reading: I lay in bed while Max plays with my birth ball or runs by me as I try to hit him with stuff animals. We laugh, he gets his physical energy out, I get to lay down and Bella is included. I have yet to rack my brains on what to do or fill my schedule with activities that are age appropriate for my kids. If we get cabin fever we head over to my in-law's. The change of scenery, the extra adults around, and their pool is enough for us to feel we’ve “gone out for the day.”
I feel like sobbing like a baby as I type this out… but having Max home "for the Summer" has created a new rhythm for us. A rhythm that signifies his growth. A rhythm that marks the beginning of a season as it was marked in my childhood. A rhythm that means change is happening. My heart fills with that rhythm and it feels a lot like love.