Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Long Summer Days

I've had so many blog posts running through my head this summer. I've already mentally composed a piece about the sensory story times I'm doing at the local libraries, a post about the professional books I'm reading, my reaction to Inside Out, a string of ideas and plans for next year, and general thoughts and observation about the teaching profession. It's all running through my head and every day a new post forms. I find myself thinking, I'll write that during nap time, or at bedtime, or I'll wake up before the kids do and write.


By nap time I am exhausted and in need of a nap myself. It's like summer camp all over again- the whole house shuts down for rest hour. It's beautiful. Not productive, but beautiful.

After bedtime I'm lucky to be churning out a few full sentences to my husband, and those few coherent phrases mostly involve trying to recap the day's events without making him leave the house and never come back.
"Refused diaper change... poop everywhere... drank bubble solution... massive fight over who got to use the washed out yogurt cup in outdoor water play... but you should have seen them play together for five minutes this afternoon. It was so cute! Best day honey, how was yours?"

Is it a giant mess? No, it's a beach. Obviously. Just not sure when we get to clean the beach up.
So I go to bed every night thinking I'll get up at 5 am and blog, return emails, or do the general grown-up chores one enjoys when not chasing a three year old and a one year old. You can imagine what happens when the alarm goes off at 5. It goes OFF. As in off, silence, not even a snooze button. Because at 5:45 the one year old will be up and ready to go and I feel like I need every ounce of energy to make it once she's awake.

So, little has been written, responded to, or completed. But despite the lack of complete thoughts, adult interactions, and productive workdays, summer has been good to us. In a slightly abusive-relationship good-to-us, but we'll take what we can get.
30 seconds. I turned my back for 30 seconds. And she's mad I didn't let her finish the beard.

I never want summer to end. 

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