Monday was my last day at work for the summer, and I am so glad to be home, even if I also feel a little spoiled. I wish everyone got summer breaks. I stand in support of summer. I want days filled with the luxury of time: time to hang my laundry out to dry, time to linger in bed, time to make my kids breakfast, time to actually eat it with them. I want my kids to remember what it felt like to have nothing to do.
We started our summer with a bang-- nine kids and a beach closed down due to waste water treatment overflow. The beach serves as our constant playground, an extension of our backyard. Without it, we almost don't know what to do with ourselves. We had to get creative. We pulled out the old kiddie pool, tried to make a slip n' slide, played a version of Marco Polo with a hose.
At first I felt the need to entertain them and to help them figure out what to do. But as the day wore on an ease took over. Little clumps of children found hidden spots to make mischief. They went tramping around my yard and my sisters' yard next door, went in and out of houses, searched for snacks, carried in mud and bugs. Arlo took to hugging Rory. Crushes developed. Hearts were broken.
We ended the night with hot dogs burned over a fire and our first attempt at an outdoor movie. Eight little people tried to fall asleep in a tent outside. One by one they all made their way inside, leaving only Gus asleep by himself. However, before the sleep, before abandoning the great outdoors, the grownups on the porch got to overhear rounds of truth or dare not soon to be forgotten.
This is summer.