The Last Month

July has always been my favorite month. Egotistical, since my birthday comes right near the end, but it's true: I look forward to July all year long (except for Christmastime; that supercedes my birthday by a longshot!). But now it's here and rushing past.

It's been fun; filled with weekend jaunts to the beach, outdoor playtime, crafts. New this year: enjoying the chubby stickiness of 7-month old Josh, watching the sunlight shine through his growing blonde fuzz. Seeing Sean learn how to swim while not give up holding his nose, and repeatedly attempt to ride his bike without training wheels down our front lawn.

But August is lurking right around this Friday's corner. August 1st is Sean's sixth birthday. And that signals a coming change: school starts before September.

This is the last month... of summer, of having my two boys home with me full-time, of being mommy with no schedule other than random playdates, occasional doctor appointments and haphazard naptimes.

Although I'm not returning to work full-time (Thank you God for large blessings!), this end of summer will bring Structure marching back to our house, clipboard and homework in hand. She will demand lunches be pre-packed the night before and clothes are laid out on the end of the bed. We will have to schedule extra time in the morning for the inevitable last-minute diaper change or gas station stop. Playtime will be relegated to evening hours and weekends. My day will be full of only one baby boy, which I will love, but my heart aches for my big kid even though he hasn't left for class yet. This is The Last Month, and it makes me sad. Blessed, but sad.

It's sunny out today - we're going to go to the park, and make our pinata for Sean's party; blow fuzzy dandelions to the wind and wish for the August days to go ever so slowly...

Pretty Confetti

A glimpse of my morning: Walking outside holding Josh (ALWAYS holding Josh - 19 lbs of wriggly chub pivoting on my left hip) I'm watching the sunlight shine through the growing blond fuzz on top of his head. I pick one of the purple-pink flowering weeds near the mailbox and breathe in the fragrance. I put the flower to Josh's nose to see if he will imitate my sniffing. He grabs the bloom with one chubby hand and plucks a handful of blossoms, beautiful confetti on our driveway. Sean comes to the door in blue underwear. "Can I come out, too?" "No. Go get dressed please." "Awww." Josh wants to shred more flowers.

Accolades from a 5 3/4 year old

Upon finding the Black Spiderman suit (on his bed): (sung fortissimo) "You're the best Mom / in the whole wide world/ including Chinese / and all the States / That's how great my mom is/ You're the best!/ (spoken) Thank you, Mom."

Really. Who gets praise like that in any regular workplace job? Love that kid.

P&Q

Sometimes there is joy in the stillness. I don't get to experience stillness or silence very frequently: there's always some buzz of motion; present, impending or just zoomed past. But today, at the beach, just me camping with Josh and Sean, there have been moments of purely blissful peace & quiet.

Josh fell asleep in his mini-swing. After the tinkling electronic merry tunes shut off, the only sound was the rhythmic tempo as the mini-motor leveraged itself against his almost 17 lbs of sleeping chub. The unusual compounding of this and Sean's unscheduled nap in the blanket fort made for a noticeable quiet. I smiled to myself as my thoughts came creeping out, coaxed by their natural curiosity.

I remembered Things in the quiet. Things I wanted to do: write, take some great pictures of the kids, resolve my ongoing eBay dispute, promote recycling. Not a Have To Do list, just some Want To Do's that needed P&Q to see sunlight.

The day went on; the kids woke up and crying, laughing, whining, singing, giggling ensued. but it's quiet again now in the nighttime, and I'm thinking how much I enjoy the daily noise with just a dash of P&Q thrown in.

Family History

My mom called this morning - no surprise there. 

"What are you guys up to today?" Translation: Can I see my grandkids? 

"Nothing much, Mom. Why?" 

"I'm headed down to see Mom-Mom. Do you want to go?"

So, since there are no plans for the day, Sean, Josh & I pile into the minivan with Mom, my sister-in-law, Lauren, and niece, Ella. Several temper tantrums, red lollipops and 1 1/2 hours later, we pile out in drizzling, grey Dundalk and walk up the familiar narrow sidewalk to the butter-yellow bungalow. 

Hours later, my head and heart are happy we went, and heavy that we don't get down there more often. My only grandmother is getting older. My grandfather isn't well, but he won't tell you so himself. We watched the kids play, passed around the baby, ordered pizza, ate Tastycakes and enjoyed a few hours in the informal bliss of family. We don't go down there often enough.

Making the most of the southern visit, we pop in to my Aunt Norma and Uncle John's house, about 5 minutes down the street. In their 80's, my grandmother's sister and husband live next door to where my grandparents lived, where my father grew up. Their house has been sold and remodeled. A fence now divides the two yards, which I always remember being joined in a giant play area. I explained to Sean the genealogy of these relatives visited so infrequently. "These are Poppie's aunt and uncle. Poppie grew up next door. They have three boys who are grown up like Poppie - his cousins." Age is a concept out of his grasp; a five-year old's ignorance. Uncle John, sickly for as long as I can remember him, tickles Josh's feet and smiles at the goos and drool. We made his day. They don't drive themselves, or tolerate long trips well, so it's up to us.

We should do it more often - I feel like I accomplished something meaningful today.

Summer of the Beach: The How's, Why's & Where's

This is it. Money has exchanged hands. Supplies have started stockpiling. Word has reached certain relatives' ears: we purchased a camper and it waits at a scenic campsite AT THE BEACH. I have unfettered access to a beach retreat anytime from now through October. While I am nervous (as I am with any large purchase), I am giddy at the idea of being able to spend time with my family at the closest beach venue anytime we want. 

I look at it this way: 

1) Have I mentioned I LOVE the beach? As Sean says, "Are you going to marry it?"; I would if polygamy to a natural scenic location were an option.

2) It was a g-r-e-a-t deal. Even for a frugal, penny-pincher like myself - it didn't take more than 2 minutes for me to say "Yes." 

3) Who knows if I will ever have an uncommitted summer and an opportunity like this coincide again?!? No formal job. Two children schedule-free until late August (save a few soccer games and 2 weeks of summer camp, yet to be booked.) A husband blessed with fruitful self-employment. Family who will gladly visit & assist as needed (trading late night feedings for afternoon naps on the sand - not such a bad deal.)

We parked the camper at Castaway's campground about 3 weeks ago, spent the night, but didn't hook-up any utilities. We are 50 ft from a very clean bath house/laundry/shower facility, so we weren't really 'roughing it'.

My parents spent the weekend away together at Ocean City, so, seeing a weather forecast with 4 days of 80+ degree weather, I decided to drive down with the kids & meet them. They did not know about the camper. I called around noon - thinking I'd catch them well before they headed back north. NO! At noon, they were not only packed, but on the road! We planned to meet in Cambridge at they Wendy's. Thankfully, the kids slept and I sped down to meet them.

To be continued...

Enter the Blog-age.

I can't think of any better way to chronicle the joyful noises of life than to write & post stories about my family, my work, my friends and my dreams. I tend to obscure myself, using "our" and "we" in place of  "my" and "me"... but here I am the writer of the adventures of We. Onward Ho.