Well, the end of the school year has come and gone and I was too busy dealing with the logistical (teacher gifts, end-of-year parties/field trips/performances/ETC.; Julia's 11th birthday/party; visit from grandparents) and emotional (Julia's graduation from 5th grade/elementary school, with its heartstring-yanking ceremony in the gymnasium complete with big-screen photo slideshow set to Echosmith's "Bright" ("Days are good/And that's the way it should be...") (GAH the 5th-grade teachers were trying to kill us; all the moms cried); end of first year at amazing job I love like no other/saying goodbye to beloved kids/co-workers/boss for the next three months; sweet last-day-of school pics that make a person stand stock-still in dreaded realization that another grade is over and the kidlets are another year older now... intricacies to even THINK about writing any of it down.
Are you still with me? Did you successfully navigate that play-by-my-own-rules collection of parenthetical statements? Thanks.
And, even, two weeks of summer vacation have passed, and they have been as glorious--gloriouser!--as they ever are. I have experienced a new mental phenomenon, even as I run all over with my kiddos doing things like riding bikes, going to the pool, getting books from the library, working on jigsaw puzzles on rainy days, going to the movies, hiking in the Arboretum, shopping at Target, picking strawberries at the farm, having friends over to play, eating frozen-custard cones on a sunny Saturday, going to basketball, inventing arts and crafts, and the like: after nine months of working outside the home 38 hours a week and still doing all the home stuff, JUST doing the home stuff feels like...doing almost nothing.
It's CRAZY. Summer as a SAHM used to feel like the busiest time of all--the kids out of school and with me full-time, no solo grocery-shopping or exercising time, partners in crime along with me for every single chore and errand. But this year? I HAVE NEVER FELT SO NON-BUSY.
Of course the irony is that I'm as busy as I have ever been in the summer. It's just that my frame of reference has changed in the past nine months.
Summer life in Minnesota is blissful in a way that can be hard to put into words. When you live with roughly six months of cold/unpleasant weather each year, the three that constitute summer become over-the-top precious. The sun and the technicolor-green lushness of the woods and the perfect sky that looks like fake painted scenery, the impossibly cheery and melodic birds that remind you of an old-school Disney film, the sunrises and sunsets, the pool and the warmth and the smell of the air.... there's nothing better. Most boring paragraph ever, but sorry.
Life is good. ("And that's the way it should be...") Summer on.